by Faith Gibson
It took Matt about fifteen minutes, but he finally chose a movie they all agreed on. When the credits rolled, they all said goodnight and went to their respective rooms. Before Abbi walked to her door, she stopped Frey and held his hand. “Thank you for everything.” She tugged his hand down and stood on her tiptoes, placing a kiss on his cheek.
“You’re welcome.” When she closed her door, he leaned against the wall, sighing. His cock was trying to escape its confines. He knew then it was going to be a long night.
Frey hadn’t been wrong. He willed his hard-on to go away for over an hour and finally gave up. He started off taking a cold shower, but his dick would not deflate, so he allowed his thoughts to drift to the beautiful blonde across the hall as he tugged one out. He woke a couple of hours later, his dick once again standing at attention. Instead of taking another shower, he slid his hands under the covers, removed his boxer briefs, and grabbed his erection tightly.
He reached out with his senses, hearing both his guests were breathing evenly, good and asleep. Once more he brought the vision of Abbi to his mind, her beautiful smile, her toned body, her pert breasts. Gods, she was perfect. Frey closed his eyes and imagined his mate, straddling his body, riding his cock for all she was worth. It didn’t take long until he was shooting his load into his underwear. Using his boxers, he cleaned the come off his spent dick. Hopefully, that would sate his need until morning.
Abbi had risen early and cooked breakfast for everyone while the boys had gone down to the dock for meditation. Once again, it had been the three of them eating together, talking about their upcoming day. “I’m ready whenever you are,” Frey told Matt when the teen came down from his shower.
Frey so wanted to kiss Abbi goodbye, like he would if she were already his. Instead, he gently gripped her shoulder and squeezed. “Jasper might get here before I get back. If he does, he’ll let himself into the gate, so don’t be alarmed.” Frey had explained their cell phones and the preprogrammed numbers the night before. “I’m going to drop Matt off and check on the dojo. If you need anything before I get back, just call. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll see you soon.”
“Bye, Abs.” Matthew kissed his sister on the cheek and followed Frey to the back door. “I’ll be glad when my time’s up at the restaurant. I can’t wait to work for you instead.” Matthew climbed up into the jeep and buckled up.
“Won’t be long now. You’ll be washing stinky towels instead of dirty dishes before you know it.” They both laughed. Frey turned on the radio. “Put it on whatever you want.”
Matthew gave him a guarded look. “Seriously? Dude, I listen to metal. You don’t look like a metal kind of man.”
“Oh, yeah? What kind of man do I look like?” Frey regarded him out of the corner of his eye.
“Country. Maybe some old rock, just not the new stuff.”
Frey grinned inwardly as he turned up the volume, metal music blasting through the speakers. Matthew’s eyes grew wide to match the grin on his face. He just shook his head and started singing. When they reached the restaurant, Frey peered around for Sixx, spotting his car in the lot across the street. Frey turned the volume down. “There’s Sixx. He’ll probably sit in a booth toward the back, out of the way, so he won’t interfere with your job. Just don’t leave alone, okay?” Sixx walked in front of the Jeep giving Frey an almost imperceptible nod.
“I still think Desmond Rothchild is that man’s love child,” Matt said staring after Sixx.
“That’s highly unlikely. Now, get in there and clean those dishes. I’ll see you at home later.” It wasn’t lost on Frey that he said home.
Matthew held out his fist and they knuckle bumped. “Later, Frey.”
Frey waited until Matthew was safe inside the building before driving away. With Sixx there watching, nothing bad could happen to the teen.
Dane arrived at the coffee shop a little before eight. He took a seat at the same table where he’d previously waited for Katherine to show up. That meeting had been at her request. Since then, he’d only seen her on the news or at certain crime scenes. Scenes she shouldn’t have been privy to, at least not as quickly as she was. He asked her to coffee under the false pretense that he had some news to share with her.
Julian sat at the next table over, sipping coffee, typing away madly on a laptop. Dane was nervous, and if he was being truthful, feeling a little unwell. Marley, the pretty waitress who served him before, arrived at his table with her usual chipper smile. “Hello, Detective. Having your usual?”
Dane smiled back. He liked that she was attentive and knew what he wanted. “Yes, please.” She walked toward the kitchen, tossing him an extra smile over her shoulder. Someone cleared their throat. When he turned around, Katherine Fox was standing beside his table.
“Am I interrupting?” she asked, a little snark in her tone.
“Not at all, please have a seat.” Dane stood, pouring on the southern charm as he pulled out her chair. One glance at Julian was enough to have the new half-blood rethinking this meeting. Julian’s fingers hovered just above the keys as he glared at the news reporter. Dane knew if Katherine was his mate, he would feel something in her presence. He took in her long red hair, green eyes, the freckles that dotted her cheeks. Was he feeling anything out of the ordinary? Maybe.
“Abbott, are you going to stare all morning, or are you going to tell me why you asked me here?”
“I wanted to let you know Gordon Flanagan is dead.”
“You could have told me that over the phone.” She leaned back in her chair, tossing her arm across the top rung. Casually, she asked, “What’s this really about?”
“I…” He glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention. “I need to ask you something. You show up at crime scenes often before some of our officers do. Who are you getting your information from?”
Katherine sat up, gesturing for Dane to move in closer. A faint growl came from the next table over. Shit. He did as she asked, leaning in. “You know I won’t give up my source.” She leaned back, the smirk alive on her lips once again.
“If your source happens to be someone inside my department, I need to know about it.”
Sliding her chair back, she stood and stepped to his side of the table. “I guess you’ll just have to keep on wondering, now won’t you?” She turned to leave, and Julian all but jumped from his seat, shoving his laptop in the sleeve as he was headed to the door. That hadn’t gone as planned. He mentally chastised himself. If he was going to be Chief, he would need her as an ally more than an enemy.
Marley returned with his latte. The nauseous feeling was back. Shit, could Marley be his mate? She’d been present the last time he’d met with Katherine. He glanced up into her face, a face that was no longer smiling. Not even close to friendly. Shit.
Troy cracked open an eye. His second hangover in a row, only this one was worse. He sat up on the sofa, swinging his legs over the side. He leaned his elbows on his knees, placing his head in his hands. “Abbi, bring me some aspirin,” he yelled as loud as his head would allow. When his wife didn’t answer him, he yelled louder, “Goddamnit, Abbi, bring me some fucking aspirin.”
Where the fuck was she? He stood on wobbly legs, pausing to gain his balance. He took stock of his clothes which were rumpled from sleeping in them. They also smelled like sex and booze. What a time he and George had last night. Again, both women had been up for anything. When Debbie suggested he and George suck each other off, that’s where he drew the line and called it a night. He wasn’t a faggot and never would be. Girls eating each other out was a huge turn on, but two guys sucking dick made him wanna puke.
Troy plodded into the kitchen, looking for a cup of coffee. The pot was empty. “Abigail!” He headed to their bedroom, fully expecting her to be there. When he pushed open the door and saw the empty bed, he lost his shit. Forgetting about his headache, Troy stomped to the door leading to the garage. He knew in his gut before he opened it her car wouldn’t be there since she wasn�
He picked up the landline receiver and dialed her cell phone. She was probably back at the fucking community center instead of being there to cook his fucking breakfast. The call went directly to voicemail. He hung up and dialed it again. After the fifth time of receiving no answer, he left her a message. “Abigail, I don’t know where you are, but I suggest you get your ass home. Right fucking now.” He slammed the receiver down and headed to the shower. He would have to go to the coffeehouse around the corner until she decided to get her happy ass back where she belonged.
As the water sluiced over his skin, Troy thought back to the previous night. Both those girls could suck a tennis ball through an exhaust pipe. He couldn’t get Abbi’s mouth anywhere near his cock unless he shoved it there while holding onto her hair. Thinking of Debbie sucking him off had his dick getting hard. He reached down for his shampoo and found the bottle empty. “Fucking bitch didn’t get my fucking shampoo.” Not caring that Abbi’s smelled fruity, he reached for hers only to find the bottle missing. “What the hell?”
His cock still demanded attention, so he grabbed the soap and lathered up. When he’d shot his load on the wall, he bathed his body and used the soap to shampoo his hair. As he was drying off, he noticed a nice purple hickey on his neck. “Damn, those girls were feisty,” he said to his reflection. He opened the drawer where Abbi kept her minimal supply of makeup. The only reason Troy didn’t throw the shit out was in cases just like this one. He’d perfected the art of concealing his infidelity. The drawer was empty. He shut it and opened the one above it. No makeup. Her toothbrush and toothpaste were missing as well. “What the fuck?” he spit as he noticed other items missing from the bathroom.
Not caring that he was naked, he strode into the bedroom and began opening drawers. At first glance, nothing seemed amiss. It wasn’t until he opened the closet and noticed the clothing that normally hung toward the back was missing. The clothing that really fit her body, showing off her spectacular curves. “You cunt. When I find you, you’ll wish you’d kept your fucking ass at home!”
Troy threw on his clothes, swiped deodorant over his pits, and shoved his feet in his shoes. He grabbed his keys and headed out the door to his truck. The first place he would look would be the community center. She was probably teaching some stupid kids how to do the ballet shit she loved so much. First, though, he stopped in the coffee shop. He had to have a jolt of caffeine before he went searching for his wayward wife.
The line to the counter was almost out the door. Why couldn’t the fucking place have a drive-thru? It was too far to drive to a chain restaurant, and the convenience store’s coffee sucked ass. Troy’s stomach grumbled, so he decided to have a seat and order some breakfast. A cute little brunette stopped by to take his order. “Good morning, what can I get you?”
Troy glanced at the nametag attached to her uniform top. A top that was slightly showing cleavage. Marley. “Good morning, Marley. You can get me a large black coffee and the bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich.”
Her smile faltered when she said, “Coming right up.” Her ass swung from side to side as she sashayed off to another table. A table where sat none other than the lead detective at the precinct. Fucking pretty boy Dane Abbott. He was probably gay like his partner. His eyes didn’t stray to Marley’s chest. No, Abbott kept his eyes on her face, smiling his fake gay smile, laughing at something the pretty waitress said. After taking Dane’s order, Marley left for the kitchen, only she turned back, giving him another smile. Bitch.
He did his best to keep out of Dane’s line of sight. When Marley brought his coffee and food, she asked, “Can I get you anything else?” She was being courteous, but she sure as fuck wasn’t flirting with him like she had with Dane. He started to ask for her phone number anyway when her eyes widened, then scowled. He followed her gaze. When he saw the object of her ire, Troy decided it was time to get the hell out of there. What the fuck was Katherine Fox doing meeting with Abbott? She better not let him know he was the one who always tipped her off when shit was going down.
“Here.” Troy pulled out a twenty and said, “Keep the change.” He didn’t care if the tip was way more than the girl deserved, he needed to leave before that Fox bitch saw him. He grabbed his coffee and sandwich, making a hasty retreat. Once outside, he juggled his food as he unlocked the truck. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he placed the coffee in the cup holder and started the engine. It was a little nippy for a November morning. As he waited for the heater to warm up, he devoured his sandwich and made short order of the coffee. He took out his phone and called Abbi again. If it took him all goddamn day, he was going to find the bitch.
Chapter Eighteen
Troy drove over to the community center, but Abbi’s car wasn’t there. From there he drove to the school on the small chance she could be there but no luck. As his truck sat idling, he dialed Matthew’s number. If the kid knew where his sister was, he’d tell Troy if he knew what was good for him. That call also went to voicemail. “Fuck!” he yelled as he smacked the steering wheel. His next attempt would be going to the restaurant where Matthew worked. He would have to wait until the kid went on break. There was no way he could get away with harassing him while he was on his shift. Troy had a reputation to uphold after all.
When he arrived, he didn’t see the piece of shit the kid drove in the parking lot. Troy knew he worked every Saturday morning, so maybe someone had dropped him off. He circled behind the building hoping to catch the kid out back goofing off. Just as he entered the alley, the back door opened, and Matthew emerged carrying a large black bag. Taking out the garbage, good job for a piece of trash. Troy threw his four-wheel drive in park and angled out. He caught up with Matthew just as the kid threw the bag into the dumpster. As soon as Matt turned around, Troy was in his face.
“Where is your sister? And don’t try to lie to me, Son. You know I don’t tolerate lying.”
“I’m not your son,” Matt seethed, trying to step around Troy.
Troy smacked Matthew with an open hand. “You’re right. My son wouldn’t be as wiry and worthless as you. Now, tell me where the fuck your sister is.”
Matthew touched his face where Troy slapped him, but he didn’t back down. Where the fuck was the kid getting a backbone from all of a sudden? “I don’t know where she is. If she’s smart, she is getting the fuck away from you.”
Troy punched Matthew in the gut. The teen doubled over, and Troy brought his knee up catching the kid’s face. “I’m only gonna ask you this one more time. Where… punch is… punch your… punch goddamn… punch sister?” The kid was bleeding all over the place. Fuck! He had to get out of there before they missed him inside. As Matthew fell to the ground, Troy kicked him in the ribs a couple of times for good measure. “Don’t bother trying to convince anyone I did this. It’ll be the word of a punk kid against an officer of the law. Besides, if you do tell Abbi, I’ll kill her.”
Troy kicked him one more time. If Matthew was hurt badly enough, he’d have to go to the hospital, and Abbi would show up to see to him. He’d find his fucking wife one way or another.
Michael “Sixx” Gentry normally dressed conservatively for his job as an investment banker. On the weekends, though, he looked like a rock star wannabe. Today, his clothing was somewhat subdued, but his black hair was spiked and his eyes were lined with kohl. Trying to remain inconspicuous as he sat waiting on Matthew’s shift to end was getting harder as his young waitress continued staring and pointing. When she brought him a refill on his coffee he asked her, “Is something wrong?”
Blushing, she quietly asked, “Has anyone ever told you that you look like the lead singer for Cyanide Sweetness?”
Instead of responding, Sixx picked up his coffee and sipped. The waitress opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by someone yelling in the back of the restaurant.
“Matt, Matthew! Help! Someone help!”
Sixx slid out of the booth and ran through the kitchen, not caring that he wasn’t an employee. When he reached the back door, someone was bent over a lifeless body. Matthew! “Someone call an ambulance!” Fuck! How could this have happened? He was given one task, to keep Matt safe. He failed. “Move!” he yelled to the man squatting beside the teen. “Matthew, can you hear me? Matt?”
Blood gushed from the boy’s nose as he mumbled, “Abbi.” He lost consciousness after that.
“The ambulance is on its way,” someone said from inside the door.
“Hang on, Matt. Just hang on. Did anyone see what happened?” Sixx looked around, but there were no spectators or suspects other than the employees gathered round the door.
“I sent him to take the garbage out. When it was taking too long, I went looking for him. I found him laying there, all bloody.” Sixx didn’t bother to look at who was talking. The police would be there soon, and they could investigate. Right now, he had to get Matthew to the hospital. He was contemplating taking the boy himself when his shifter senses picked up the sirens. Ten minutes later, Matthew was loaded in the ambulance and on his way to get help. Sixx didn’t ride along. He ran to his Bugatti and drove like a bat out of hell. As he was driving, he made the dreaded call. Frey was going to have his ass.
Jasper rolled up to the gate at Frey’s property and spoke into the security box. The gates opened and he drove on through. His heart was heavy, and he really had wanted to stay at home and mope. When he got home from patrolling the previous night, Trevor had been gone. He had cooked noodles and obviously ate, because there was a dirty plate in the dishwasher. He had not waited on Jasper to get home. He didn’t call, didn’t leave a note. He just left. Maybe the pictures had been too much. He’d called and texted Trevor but hadn’t heard back from him.
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