by Rick R. Reed
Chapter 10
SAM HEARD Graziela emerge from the back just as he closed and locked the door behind Thad. The click of her heels on the hardwood stopped, and her gaze burned into his back. He wondered if she had been listening to their entire conversation. He turned to face his sister.
She was grinning at him.
“So we send Demonic away because he’s ‘homesick’?” Graziela laughed. “That’s a good one, Sam. Why didn’t you just tell your young man the truth? If he is going to be a part of your life, don’t you think he should know? Don’t you think he should have the, er, information he needs to decide if he wants to be with you?”
Sam put a hand to his temple. Thad’s visit, all that had transpired over the weekend, and now his sister’s almost accusatory words caused a sharp, needling pain behind his eyes. He closed them and moved his hands lower to press against the lids, as if he could force out the pain there. He blinked and took in his sister.
She was so beautiful, but she was a cold one. She had no heart, and the only love she had was for Sam’s son. She had always been Domenic’s ally and often came between father and son, undermining his paternal authority. But Sam didn’t have the energy or the nerve to get into a screaming match with Graziela just now, although he knew that’s probably just what she relished. So he went to the bar, poured two mugs of strong black coffee, and went to the table where only minutes ago he had sat with Thad.
Graziela frowned, but she joined him. Sam was determined to keep his voice soft and his tone even. “Look, I will tell Thad. Eventually. But you have to give me time. I want to be sure of our relationship first.” Sam was sure of the relationship. What he was not sure of was whether telling everything about him and his family might cause Thad to run—fast—in the opposite direction. Sam wouldn’t blame him.
Graziela sipped her coffee. Sam wondered how someone could look so beautiful yet be so hateful on the inside. He knew she didn’t care about seeing him make a go of it with Thad. She just wanted to see the relationship destroyed. That’s what she had always wanted, for them to be alone in their insulated little family. No one else allowed, unless related by blood.
“I see,” she said. Sam knew she saw nothing.
“I will thank you, sister, not to take it upon yourself to reveal any family secrets to Thad. If not for me, then for Domenic and the rest of us. This is an issue that has to be handled carefully.”
“I don’t see why you want to fool around with that boy, anyway. Why don’t you find someone like us?”
A snatch of music bubbled to the surface in Sam’s thoughts, something from West Side Story and Anita singing to Maria about sticking to her “own kind.”
“Someone Italian, you mean? A paisano?” Sam eyed his sister, smiling. He hoped maybe she would catch the joke and help him in lightening the tension that lay between the two of them like a live wire, sparking.
Graziela shook her head. “You know that’s not what I mean. You should know, from how things went with your wife, that bringing people not like us into the fold can be a very dangerous thing.”
A jolt of queasy nausea rocked through him at the thought of his ex-wife and all that had happened in Sicily. Domenic had never been able to forgive him. Maybe that’s why he was the way he was. “You’re right, sister. But I am a passionate man. We are all passionate. And I cannot help who I fall in love with.” Sam wanted to add “You’d know that too, if you had ever been in love yourself” but kept quiet and reminded himself he wanted to keep things civil.
Graziela sniffed, as if she didn’t believe him, as if he were making his love up as a way to irritate her. “And what of your son? Where does love come in with him? Do you think he feels love, being banished?”
Sam drew in a deep breath, reminding himself yet again to stay calm. He would not take the bait. “You know as well as I do that things were not working out here for him. He would have ruined things for us all if we let him stay. I thought we all agreed on that.”
Graziela drew herself up, folding her arms across her chest. Fire sparkled in her eyes; color rose to her cheeks. When she spoke, she didn’t yell, but her voice held an intensity that would have made screaming a much better option. “We all agreed, as you put it, because of the alternative.” Tears rose to his sister’s eyes. “I can’t believe you could do that… to your own son.” Graziela stared down and whispered, “Just because he doesn’t accept you for what you are.”
Sam felt sick at the thought of what he had originally proposed for Domenic. Didn’t Graziela realize it broke his heart too? And in his defense, he didn’t know if he could have gone through with the plan he had originally proposed.
Yes, they were werewolves. But they were also Italian. And with Italians, family always came first. That was the reason he had sent Domenic away, back to the place from which they had all come. Maybe back there, amidst the rocky outcroppings and the olive trees, Domenic could learn to behave.
And learn to love his father.
Sam looked up at his sister, feeling his own eyes sting with tears. “I’m sorry, but I can’t talk about this anymore. What’s done is done.”
Graziela sneered. “Yes. Indeed.” She crossed the room to pick up the morning paper, holding it aloft so Sam could read its werewolf headline from across the room. “What’s done is done.”
AS THAD approached his door, he heard the familiar tone from his cell phone signaling he had a text message waiting. He paused to extract the phone from his pocket and read.
Can I see you? I don’t like being by myself.
Thad sighed. Jared.
He couldn’t blame his friend for not wanting to be alone. The poor guy had been through horror and trauma beyond Thad’s understanding and wildest imaginings. But Thad was tired… and that was the plain and simple truth of it. He knew he should be a better friend. He knew he should reach right down into some bottomless reservoir of sympathy and be there for Jared, but his energy needle sat firmly on Empty. All he could think about right now was taking Edith out to do her business, coming back inside, stripping off his clothes, and collapsing onto the bed for a long nap—perhaps one that would last until the next morning.
He unlocked the door and smiled in spite of his weariness as Edith jumped at his shins, yapping and bouncing as though her legs were equipped with springs. “Okay, okay.” He took the dog outside and called Jared. It was easier to talk than text when you had a fiery Mexican dog at the end of a leash, pulling you every which way.
Jared sounded tired himself when he answered.
“How are you? Are you feeling any better?” Thad did his best to put his exhaustion aside, to demonstrate his concern for his troubled friend.
“I’m scared.” Jared’s voice was whispery, unlike the voice he used to know. The one that cracked wise, that was full of sexual innuendo, that could always make Thad laugh. Thad missed that voice. “And I can’t sleep. Can you believe it? I am too tired to sleep.”
Thad did laugh at that. He couldn’t help it. He understood and empathized only too well with that particular plight. “I know. I know exactly what you mean. I feel the same. Listen, I was about to go in and take a nap. I just had a weird talk with Sam, and I’m so tired I can barely stand up.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”
“You know that’s not what I mean!”
“What did you mean, then?”
“I only meant I need to sleep. Just like you do.” Thad had an idea. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but if you feel up to it, why don’t you come on over on your bike? We can nap together. Maybe it’ll help us both to sleep with a warm body close by.” Thad realized that, in other times, this would have been just what Jared wanted to hear. Under almost any other circumstances, his words could not be interpreted in any other way than seductive.
“I know what would really help me get to sleep….” Jared’s voice took on some of its old suggestive qualities, and Thad smiled. His friend hadn’t completely taken leave of hi
s old self. But Thad was pretty sure he had willpower enough if Jared did attempt to make a move on him, even next to him in bed, that he could stave him off.
Maybe.
“I’m happy to hear your mind hasn’t completely vacated the gutter.”
And it was so good, then, to hear Jared laugh.
“Sure. I’ll come over. I’ve been waiting since the first day I met you to get an invite into your bed. No matter how bad I feel, there is no fuckin’ way I’m turning down this offer. Later!” And Jared broke the connection.
Thad wanted to tell him that he’d leave the door open, that Jared should feel free to come inside and just crawl into bed with him. He would have to trust that Jared could figure things out for himself. He wasn’t sure he could keep his eyes open long enough to wait for Jared to make the short trip to his apartment. He just didn’t know what he’d wake up to or if he was opening a door that might not be able to be closed.
Inside, he unleashed Edith, freshened up her water bowl, and took off his running clothes. He sniffed at his pits to make sure he didn’t smell too heinous after his run—the thought of even a shower was daunting—decided he didn’t, and stripped, leaving his sweaty shorts, shirt, and socks in a heap on the floor. He slid into a pair of worn gray sweats and an old oversized T-shirt and crawled into bed. Aiming the remote at the TV, he turned it on and was pleased the see an old rerun of The Golden Girls. The show was television comfort food to him, and before Blanche had made even one lascivious comment, Sophia cracked wise, or Dorothy given one of her classic deadpan double-takes, he had drifted off to sleep.
Thad ran, the silvery course before him lit by the moon. His legs felt strong as they pounded the wooded trail, and he breathed easily. The night air cooled the sweat on his body, and it occurred to him that he should run at night more often. He looked down at his feet and saw they were bare, yet he felt no pain as he dashed over pebbles, earth, and pine needles.
And then he realized something else: his feet were not the only things bare. He wore nothing. Yet as he gazed down at his naked body, at his dick bobbing up and down with his steady rhythm, he couldn’t believe how good he felt and thought maybe running nude at night should be his normal routine going forward. His breath came in and out of his lungs effortlessly, and his legs felt as though they could go for miles and miles without tiring.
A scream pierced the darkness, and Thad’s good feelings dashed away from him like traitors. He stopped in the woods, listening for the pained anguish of the man’s cry once more. He heard nothing save for the wind, now stronger, rustling the leaves in the trees. The moon disappeared behind a bank of clouds, and Thad realized he wasn’t alone.
Someone, very close by, watched him.
“Who’s there?” Thad cried into the shadows.
The wind answered him, telling him nothing.
A twig snapped, and something with a heavy tread approached. Thad’s temperature dropped as the thing in the woods drew nearer. He peered into the darkness, frozen, both dreading and anticipating what he would soon see emerge if the thing stayed true to its course. He stopped breathing. The sound of his hammering heart was suddenly all he could hear.
A branch moved and the interloper revealed himself.
Sam.
He was naked too. His hair-covered muscular body glistened in the moonlight with sweat, much like Thad’s own. An almost painful-looking erection jutted out before him, impossibly hard. It leaked precum onto the ground below.
“Mio amore,” Sam whispered, raising his arms.
Thad closed his eyes, giddy with passion, the residue of fear, and relief. He went to Sam and found himself engulfed in the man’s strong embrace. Sam pulled him against his own body so tightly it just about cut off Thad’s wind. But he wouldn’t have stopped him. He buried his face in Sam’s stubbled neck, inhaling and kissing. He smelled sweat and something else, something foreign, with a sharp metallic tang. His mind flashed briefly on the scream he had heard only moments before. But his rising cock and wildly elevating internal temperature forced the fear out of his mind, to be replaced by a hunger so overwhelming Thad could only pause for a second to marvel at the uniqueness of it.
And then their mouths mashed together, hard, tongues dueling, and Sam reached down to play with Thad’s aching cock, bringing him close to release with his deft fingers. But that would have been too soon.
Sam spun him around and, with a strong hand, forced Thad to bend over. Sam positioned himself at Thad’s hole and pushed savagely inside. Thad cried out as white-hot needles of pain coursed through him. But they vanished almost immediately, and he found himself pushing backward into Sam’s frenzied thrusts, hoping to get him inside deeper, deeper….
Sam rode him faster, and Thad reveled in the sound of his lover’s breath quickening. He knew Sam would come soon, and he couldn’t wait to be filled with his seed. He reached back to pull at Sam’s thighs, urging him in as deeply as possible so his gut was mashed against Thad’s cheeks. He wanted to feel the pulse of Sam’s dick as he exploded deep within him.
“Mio Dio!” Sam shouted into the darkness, bucking, writhing, and groaning. He pounded even harder into Thad, emptying his seed. At the same time, Thad looked down to his own cum jetting out, pale and ghostly in the moonlight, shooting three feet or more in ever-decreasing ebbs. It felt like the very life was being drained from him.
It felt wonderful.
He stood slowly and let Sam’s cock slip from his hole. Finally, with a small pop, the head slapped against Thad’s thigh, wet. Thad closed his eyes, trying to calm his beating heart and accelerated breathing. “That was amazing.” He stood up fully and turned to kiss Sam.
Behind him stood an all-black creature, a giant wolf, standing on its hind legs. Its eyes blazed, and it panted, its tongue lolling out of its mouth and revealing a row of fangs coated in blood.
Thad threw himself away from the hands grabbing him. A strangled scream still burned in his throat. He practically fell from his bed, trying desperately to get away from the claws attempting to grab at him and hold him down. He batted at whoever was on him, punching and slapping.
“Hey! Hey! Stop! You had a bad dream, that’s all. It’s just me.”
Thad finally opened his eyes and looked up into Jared’s concerned gaze. He held Thad’s hands back by his wrists, his face twisted into an expression of sympathy and, yes, fear. “It’s okay now. It was just a dream.”
Thad looked around his little studio as if seeing it for the first time. Edith sat at the edge of the bed, watching him. The TV—now playing a rerun of Roseanne—squawked softly. Pale gray light outside told him it was late afternoon. He forced himself to breathe regularly and to swallow.
He looked again at Jared, who now smiled kindly at him.
“Honey… you must have been having one hell of a nightmare.” Jared let go of Thad’s wrists and drew him close to his bare chest. “I’m sorry if I made it any worse.”
Thad still couldn’t find the presence of mind to form words. He simply buried his face in Jared’s chest, comforted by the feel of his friend’s strong hands stroking his hair and soothing him.
“I just let myself in. I hope that’s okay. The door was unlocked. You were dead to the world, man, so I took the liberty of just climbing in with you. Your snores knocked me out.” Jared stopped stroking Thad’s hair. “Until your screaming woke me up.”
Thad moved away and locked gazes with Jared. “Sorry.”
“No. No, it’s okay. I’m glad I was here.”
Thad let himself recline on his pillow once more, and Jared did the same, both on their backs. “For a while,” Jared said, “it was kind of hot. You were moaning, and it definitely didn’t sound like a nightmare.” He chuckled. “You were pushing your ass up against my crotch.”
Thad reddened. “Are you naked?”
“Nah. I have my boxers on. But much more of those moves, and I gotta tell you, I might have taken ’em off, sleep or no sleep. There’s only so much a man can
withstand.”
Thad thought the appropriate response right now would be to laugh, but the remains of the nightmare still clung to him, like clammy hands trying to pull him back down. “Jesus.”
“And then there was a shift. You tightened up and the screaming started.”
“Thank you for being here, buddy.” Thad turned to look at Jared.
“No prob. What was the dream about, anyway?”
Thad closed his eyes and the dream images rose up to assault him. He hoped they would disappear quickly, but right now he felt as though they would stay with him for a long, long time. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Chapter 11
THAD FACED Sam across the checkered tablecloth. At the Blue Moon Café, the diners had trickled down to a dedicated few, lingering over almond biscotti and vino santo or a final grappa. Between them lay a great tray of imported Italian cheeses, clusters of grapes, perfect tangerines, and a bowl filled with hazelnuts and walnuts, still in their shells. A nutcracker lay close by, ready to be pressed into service.
Yet most of this postdinner feast sat untouched. The espresso Sam had insisted on them having had gone cold.
Thad had eaten little that night, in spite of Sam trying to tempt him with a black truffle risotto and sautéed Swiss chard with garlic, olive oil, and a dusting of fresh nutmeg.
Sam looked into Thad’s eyes and covered Thad’s hands with his own. “What’s the matter? You have been cold and distant all night. I try and make you happy. Try and tempt you with my cooking, with me, and yet it’s like you’re not you anymore, if that makes any sense.”
It wasn’t fair to be so chilly with Sam. He had done nothing wrong, not really. But Thad couldn’t help the feelings that clustered and festered inside him, mostly residue from his nightmare earlier that day, but also from the plague of doubt that had arisen after Sam had told him about his weekend full-moon trip to New York. A trip of which Sam could have easily given him a little advance notice. There was also the fact that Sam had sent his son back to Sicily, hurriedly and one might say secretively, under the remnants of a full moon.
