Wolf in Sheep's Clothing (Big Bad Wolf)

by Charlie Adhara

  “Right. Don’t think. You know me, no problem.”

  Cooper logged in and quickly found the test. He tried to read the introductory paragraph, explaining the test as a highly refined personality inventory, as carefully as possible. But the words pulsated in front of his eyes and he found himself continuously having to jerk back into his body when his attention was elsewhere. It wasn’t that his mind wandered, it just sort of...powered down. And he kept having to double back, unsure of the last line he’d read before blinking out.

  “Hey,” Park murmured. He was sitting on the bed right beside him, and Cooper couldn’t quite remember him moving across the room.

  “Shhh, I’m trying to concentrate.” True, but also ridiculous, ’cause right now all he was doing was picking out random keywords in the paragraph because it seemed easier and less time-consuming than working through the sentences in order.

  Park’s hand slid onto Cooper’s thigh which only then did he realize had been shaking up and down, moving the bed. “What’s wrong? Why is this making you so nervous?”

  “Just don’t like surprise tests,” Cooper muttered. “Stupid.”

  Park continued to stroke Cooper’s thigh, and though it didn’t eliminate the jitteriness he felt, it was a nice, soothing feeling laid over top. “It’s not a test you can fail, you know. It’s like any other personality quiz. Am I an introvert or an extrovert? Do I fuck like a bear or a bird? What kind of prisoner am I, the Count of Monte Cristo or Mrs. Rochester?”

  Cooper gave him a look. “I worry about what you spend your free time on.”

  Park kissed his shoulder. “Eighteen or eighty, whatever you get, doesn’t matter to me.”

  “Great. Now I’m terrified of getting below an eighteen,” Cooper said, and felt Park smile against his shirt. “What do you usually get? A thousand, I suppose.”

  “Most alpha-types fall between sixty-five and eighty. The test is zero to a hundred and you can’t get a one-hundred—like you can’t reach infinity, you can just approach it.”

  Cooper groaned. “Writing and math?” He stared at the screen, finger hovering over the start button. “Is it multiple choice or are there like essay questions?”

  “Cooper!” Park laughed and flopped backward onto the bed. “The more information I give you, the less accurate it will be, so will you just get it over with already?”

  Cooper eyed him suspiciously. “You’re curious what I get, aren’t you?”

  Park closed his eyes. “Don’t be silly,” he said archly. “AQs are almost as antiquated and problematic as IQ tests. If I was a little curious it would merely be the lingering remains of a lifetime’s worth of indoctrination into an outdated, toxic value system that means nothing in contemporary society and even less to my own personal relationship.”

  “So yes, definitely curious,” Cooper said.

  He knew, despite Park’s dismissal of the test, deep down he was expecting Cooper to get a high AQ. He’d told him so, months ago in Cape Breton. It’s unexpectedly soothing to follow your lead.

  But if he was wrong...if he’d mistaken the brashness Cooper had developed to conceal his own anxieties and near constant feelings of incompetence and confusion for a leadership quality... Then what? Where did that leave them?

  Park poked him in the ass.

  “Hey, what the fuck!”

  “Sorry. Just demonstrating how to use a touch screen. You seemed to have forgotten.”

  Cooper pointedly shuffled backward until he was sitting on Park’s hand, trapping it to the mattress. “Stay. And don’t distract me.”

  He took a deep breath and, with a determination that was just as impulsive and undeserved as his previous flailing, started the test and tried not to think how the results could change the dynamics of a partnership he could no longer imagine existing without.

  Chapter Four

  All things considered, Cooper would rather be at a masked orgy under a full moon right now. It honestly sounded like less work.

  His shoulder ached where the hard plastic of a bundle of oars dug into the muscle, and his legs were shaking. When they had made their way to the lodge promptly at four o’clock, they’d found most of the other guests milling around the front steps. Of the small, five-person staff, four of them would be joining the hike—a short, white, heavily tattooed woman named Reggie, who quietly introduced herself as the “relaxation expert”—meaning who knows what—and the two therapists, Dr. Vanessa Claymont and a man who introduced himself as Dr. Bradley Joyce. Vanessa’s partner and co-director, Paul Claymont, was nowhere to be seen, and it was obvious his absence was unexpected. Vanessa’s opening speech sounded uneven and rushed, as if she’d had to take over last minute.

  “Even couples who have been together as long as we have and know all the tricks can have the odd miscommunication,” Vanessa admitted, and the small crowd laughed, more to ease her embarrassment than anything else. Jack Nielsen the cook would apparently be filling in as an extra set of hands in place of Paul.

  “He’s certainly handy,” Cooper remarked to Park. “Who isn’t he filling in for?”

  “My mate,” a short woman nearby said, playfully elbowing the equally short man next to her, presumably her aforementioned mate who just smiled and rolled his eyes in an easygoing manner. “But the weekend’s just getting started.”

  The small group around them all laughed except for a tall, sour-faced man who sucked his teeth pointedly before moving away, across the yard, leaving his own partner, an extremely talkative woman, to smile embarrassedly, speechless for once, and follow him.

  There were nine couples attending the retreat for this weekend in total, including Cooper and Park, and though they’d all introduced themselves, most of the names and face blurred together. He didn’t feel particularly bad about it. It was highly unlikely any of the guests had anything to do with Kreuger’s disappearance, and Cooper figured he’d have plenty of time and forced bonding over the next five days to get to know his neighbors. His only real concern was whether anyone there would recognize Park.

  But nearly every guest seemed to live outside the Park family’s northeast territory. No doubt they’d still recognize the pack’s infamous name, but were far enough not to know Park’s face on sight. Almost all of them were from the southeast. Five of the couples even hailed from the Carolinas themselves, practically locals. Cooper and Park got some interested looks when they said they were from DC, but really no one seemed terribly surprised.

  “Well, where else could a couple like them go openly?” Cooper overheard the talkative woman whispering to her sour-faced husband in a matter-of-fact, if somewhat pitying tone. He assumed she meant because he was a human and not because they were gay, since there were at least two other visibly queer couples there besides Cooper and Park and no one batted an eye at them.

  Dr. Claymont hustled everyone toward the trail as soon as the final couple arrived, two laughing Black women in their sixties who apologized for holding the group up, though they were hardly two minutes later than Cooper and Park.

  When Dr. Claymont had described the trip to the top of the falls as a journey, Cooper thought she was being cute. Or maybe alluding to the emotional journey they’d need to traverse together. An hour and a half later, he realized she’d actually been downplaying it. Odyssey would have been more accurate. They had hiked two and a half miles of steep terrain at a forty-five-degree angle from the quarry, carrying all the gear they’d need to then raft another two miles down the river. In Cooper’s humble opinion, if he and Park had actually been having relationship issues, all this physical work would have sent them over the edge.

  Speaking of which...

  “This is the same river that turns into that enormous waterfall, right?” Cooper asked Park as he dumped the bundle of oars to the ground at last.

  Nearby, one of the counselors chuckled. Dr. Bradley Joyce was a cuddly-loo
king white man in his fifties with shaggy brown hair and a close-cropped beard. Somewhat barrel-chested, he had a deep voice that could be heard laughing often as they’d hiked. Like the rest of the staff that had joined them on their quest, he had floated between the groups, introducing himself, answering questions and quietly observing the way guests worked together.

  It chafed Cooper’s nerves how obviously this was a test of teamwork, and yet he still found himself acting almost ludicrously conscientious. Fortunately, he wasn’t the only one affected by the observation. The whole hike had buzzed with Watch your step ahead and Does anyone want to swap out? and gentle touches to the shoulder paired with concerned eyes and How are you doing? No one got touched more than Cooper.

  Tired, hurting and worried about what other activities lay ahead, the extra attention felt cloying and superficial. At least ten times during the hike, another guest had wandered over to touch Cooper’s arm and ask how he was and if he needed help. The frustrating thing was that Cooper couldn’t even blame them for being concerned. While everyone was undeniably working hard, Cooper felt like the only person who looked like he’d already taken a dip down the falls and then fought his way back up, he was sweating so much and breathing so heavily.

  “There’s a large bend and stretch of still water before the drop-off,” Dr. Joyce explained. “You’ll have plenty of time to row to shore. It’s quite safe.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” Cooper said. “This one’s not much of a sailor.” He jerked his head toward Park, who snorted at the understatement while carefully setting the raft down on the riverbank along with the couple they’d been partnered with: the same sour-faced man and talkative woman from before. The man had warmed to Cooper and Park just enough to brag about what an experienced outdoorsman he was and how this was actually their second time at the retreat.

  “We’re just here as a nice little getaway, not for all that counseling stuff,” he’d announced to Cooper and Park, a bit defensively. Whether that was true or not, he certainly did like acting as if he was one of the staff.

  “What class rapids are these again, Bradley?” the man—Jimmy—asked Dr. Joyce, leaving Park and Jimmy’s talkative partner, Lisa, to secure the raft by themselves. “Four? Five?”

  “Oh, goodness no,” Joyce said. “The river’s a one, with some small sections of two. Really, you don’t need to have any whitewater experience for the distance we’re going.” He directed this last part at Cooper, which seemed unnecessary. “If you’re nervous, Vanessa always packs a couple of lifejackets, just in case.”

  “Actually, I grew up on the water,” Cooper said tersely.

  “Really?” Joyce said, with more curiosity than the comment warranted. “That’s very interesting.”

  Was it? “Yeah. I mean, don’t try to connect it to my unstable sense of self or daddy issues or anything,” Cooper muttered, regretting he’d said anything. “Those are all strictly land-based.”

  Joyce laughed again and looked like he was going to respond when Dr. Claymont clapped her hands and called for everyone’s attention.

  “Well, look at that! The first stage is complete and you’ve all made great time by working together and encouraging your partner and your teammates.”

  “Teammates?” Cooper heard Lisa whisper to Jimmy with a somewhat insulting degree of concern. “Do you think we have the same team the whole weekend?”

  Jimmy shushed her and hissed, “If you shut up for once and let me actually listen, maybe we’d find out.”

  Lisa looked down quickly and crossed her arms over her stomach. As if remembering they were supposed to be the most evolved couple with the least amount of problems, Jimmy glanced guiltily over his shoulder and caught Cooper watching him. His face turned a blotchy red and quickly turned away. Cooper couldn’t resist looking at Dr. Joyce beside him, and saw he too was observing the couple with a small, concerned frown.

  “Now the hard work can begin,” Dr. Claymont was saying. “For safety, we’re going to launch one at a time and have a staff member in each raft.” She began to assign the nine couples an order and, hearing that he, Park, Jimmy and Lisa would be last, Cooper finally gave in to the urge to sit down, back against a large tree.

  Park sat beside him and touched his shoulder lightly. He peered into his eyes with exaggerated concern. “Hey there. Hey. How you are you doing? You need me to carry you?”

  “You’re lucky I’m too tired to break up with you,” Cooper warned, but was unable to contain his chuckle, and a few people looked over at them curiously. He lowered his voice to match Park’s near whisper. “So I was right. People are being extra worried for me.”

  Park didn’t bother denying it. “You look less competent than you are,” he said simply. Cooper couldn’t tell if he felt insulted or flattered. “Christopher isn’t a wolf, either, you know,” he added.

  “Who? Just so I know who to flash the secret signal later.” Cooper scanned the crowd as if he’d be able to tell. At the river’s edge, Vanessa and Nielsen were supervising the first raft’s launch and helping “relaxation expert” Reggie into the raft along with two of the more enthusiastic couples. As he watched, Nielsen slipped slightly on the slippery river stones and Vanessa’s hand reached out instinctively to steady him, and Nielsen jerked quickly away.

  “He’s Mutya’s partner,” Park was saying. “Over there.” He indicated a short, Filipinx man and woman, talking to Dr. Joyce. The woman, Mutya, was the same one who had made the raunchy joke that had pissed off Jimmy. Now she stood with her arm wrapped somewhat possessively around her partner Christopher’s waist, while he waved his hands around, describing something that made the doctor laugh.

  “He’s human and six inches shorter than me. How come no one was asking him if he needed to sit down and rest his legs?” Cooper asked a little peeved.

  “All of us together, working as a group like this, activates our pack-ier instincts. Subconsciously they just want to be near your high AQ.”

  Cooper frowned and shifted uncomfortably. “Don’t say that,” he said without thinking, and Park looked at him, surprised. “Sorry, just...never mind.”

  He guiltily looked away and his gaze found Nielsen again. Neither he nor Vanessa were looking at each other, and they seemed very careful not to touch again. An odd thing, to be the only human working at a camp run entirely by wolves and ostensibly for wolves.

  As Cooper considered this, a faint motor sound grew to a loud grumble and an ATV pulled into view and parked in the small clearing. A man climbed off hurriedly, scanning the area.

  “Sorry I’m late, everyone!” He gave a slow-moving wave that reminded Cooper of a dictator on his balcony. “An errand in town. Two years living here and I still forget how long it takes to get in and out of the mountains.”

  He was tall, white, bald, in wiry good shape and, interestingly, significantly younger than Vanessa. Fifteen years or more. He looked like the sort of man who thought it was his god-given duty to benevolently inform everyone else on the health benefits of juicing and paddleboard. Cooper immediately blamed him for today’s agenda.

  “Sorry, Vee. Thanks for holding down the fort,” the man continued, still loudly enough for everyone to hear, and kissed Vanessa quickly on the cheek. “My rock. What would I do without you?”

  “Paul Claymont, I assume,” Cooper murmured to Park as the couples who hadn’t launched yet dutifully awwed and vocally aspired to being referred to as a rock after their partner left them holding the bag all day. He watched Vanessa extricate herself swiftly from Paul’s hold and begin loading the second raft with two more couples and Dr. Joyce. “Do you think he’ll try to speak to you?”

  “Santiago said she made it clear no one was to know. That he should treat us as any other guests.” Park sounded a bit like he was trying to convince himself. Like he was hoping more than anything not to be acknowledged, sought out.

  “But...” C
ooper said gently.

  “But I already smell his excitement, his fear.”

  Indeed, even as Park said this, Paul was looking around the group, barely paying attention to the couple introducing themselves to him. It was exceedingly obvious the moment he caught sight of Park. Paul startled and took a hasty step back. He excused himself and walked in their direction at an alarming pace.

  “Paul, buddy!” Jimmy called in a friendly voice, and made to intercept him, but was brusquely dismissed with an impersonal wave.

  Cooper inwardly winced at Jimmy’s expression, caught off-guard and embarrassed. For a moment, Cooper could have sworn he saw Jimmy’s face jump in place, like the flickering of a screen. It was unlike anything Cooper had ever seen from a wolf.

  “Did you see—” Cooper started, and Park looked questioningly at him, but Lisa had already pulled Jimmy away and Paul was drawing nearer. “Ne-never mind. Should we stand up?” Cooper asked instead.

  “Why,” Park simply stated. It wasn’t a question. His voice and expression already set to carefully uninterested and unbothered. It reminded Cooper of the Park he’d first met. A Park he now understood carefully hid years of hurt and loneliness under a blank mask.

  Up close, Cooper could see Paul’s head was shiny, and his T-shirt pit-stained—as if he, too, had needed to trudge up the mountain—and his eyes were wide and dilated inhumanly. About a foot away Paul dropped eerily fast into a crouch, waddled awkwardly a couple steps closer, then dropped again to his knees so that he was about eye-level with Cooper and Park. He licked his lips, nervously, but after all that rush seemed reluctant to speak. Park, too, remained quiet.

  Normally Cooper quite liked a man on his knees in front of him, but this was too weird for him and he worried for Park if this turned into another antagonistic meeting like that with Muñoz. He broke the silence.