by Julia Talbot
“Yes, boss.”
They were in so much trouble, both of them. Jaxon just looked so pleased.
“Sit there and figure out how things went backassward.” How had he lost control? Had he ever had it?
Jaxon nodded easily. “Sure, boss.”
He put his head in his hands, trying to focus, trying to think. How had this…? Okay, he would just ask to go back to the apartment at the tower. Then he would come back by himself.
Now that he knew he was looking for felines, now that he had a direction, he could make tracks. Especially unencumbered. He needed the rest to be safe, though.
He didn’t want to get Jaxon or Ty hurt.
Hell, he wanted everyone safe. Everyone except the motherfuckers who’d hurt his uncle Ron.
“You’re thinking too much.” Jaxon reached out to touch his hand.
“I need to finish this.” He wanted to go home.
“I know. But they weren’t playing. You need to not go off in all directions.” The press of Jaxon’s fingers made him tingle all the way up his arm. “Please, Sebastian. You’re not alone in this.”
“I’m not letting you put yourself in danger.”
Jaxon blinked. “But it’s okay for you?”
“Of course.” Sebastian was the one Ron had sent.
Now Jaxon frowned, storm clouds gathering in his expression. “No way.”
“It’s my job,” he growled. Whether he wanted it or not, he was the head of the pack until Ron recovered, and he could do this. He could.
“And it’s my job to help—”
“Limeade?” Tyrone asked loudly.
“And tater tots. Three orders.” He snarled at Jaxon. “What do you want?”
“Cherry limeade and a chicken toaster, please.”
“Get me a double burger. Two.” Shifting made him ravenous.
“You got it, bossman. Just don’t eat the big herd animal.”
“Shut up again, Ty.”
Tyrone laughed, then ordered for them. With the Hummer, Sonic was the best place. No squeezing through the drive-thru. They could pull in to the end spot at the drive-in and be huge. Tyrone got onion rings and cheddar jalapeno bites along with one of those blue drinks. Weirdo.
Sebastian looked down at his hands, at the way they shook, praying that no one else noticed. He wasn’t a coward. He wasn’t, but… he didn’t like being shot at either.
Jaxon moved closer to him, hand on his leg now. The warmth that lean body put out was astonishing.
“Never been shot at before.”
“No? Makes your nerves rattle?” Jaxon was practically in his lap.
“Little. I did okay.” He hadn’t run away; he’d run toward.
“You did great.” Jaxon petted his chest, which made him moan a little. “Just let the adrenaline ease, huh?”
“Trying. I’m trying.”
“I know. The body is a crazy thing.” Jaxon petted him, soothed him, and made him breathe until the food came.
He knew he ought to stop it, to back away, snap, but he needed it.
“Eat,” Jaxon told him, backing off to leave him plenty of space.
“Yeah.” He snarfed up the burgers and one of the tater tots before he slowed down and began to breathe.
Jaxon was watching him, nibbling a fried chicken sandwich on Texas toast. Super adorbs.
Sebastian rolled his eyes at himself. He needed to go to the mountains. Seriously. All he needed to do was find this kitty and he could go.
“Mmm.” Tyrone was making sex noises up front, licking an onion ring.
“Perv,” he called up.
“Your fault, Seb.”
“Mine?” He tried for affronted, but really, he knew he sounded too happy.
“Uh-huh. Pheromones.”
“Right. Pheromones. Butthead.” He needed to go back, see what he could see.
“Can I steal a tot?” Jaxon had busted through his food too and was staring at the extra tray of tots neither of them had actually ordered.
“Of course. As many as you need.” The urge to protect, to take care was like a pang, like a drug.
“Oh, I can share.” Jaxon’s fingers brushed his when he reached for crispy goodness.
Focus, Sebastian. Focus. Bad guys. Bad kitties. Killers.
He didn’t need hot little foxes who carried guns and knew how to use them disturbingly well.
Not right now. Maybe next spring…
“Take us home when you’re done eating, Ty.” That was the best thing. Sebastian needed to regroup, call Alan. Go back to the warehouse tonight, alone.
“Are you sure?” Jaxon asked. “I’m armed.”
“No, you’re right.” He smiled, hoping it was disarming and charming. “Shooting bad.”
Jaxon looked pretty skeptical.
Still, he would be armed when he went back. Armed and ready to face whatever he had to so he could go home and be at peace.
THIS WAS the most fun ever.
Jaxon was already in with the typing pool, so to speak. He was the darling of the admins after only three days.
Too bad he couldn’t get Sebastian to give him the time of day. Oh, Sebastian Zeller had researched him. Every site he’d set up for himself had gotten pinged.
Curious little puppy, wanting to know about him.
He grinned. If Sebastian stayed busy investigating him, he didn’t have to make excuses for following the guy when he left the building.
Speaking of, there went his primary, right out the front door.
He rolled back his chair, grabbing his sidearm out of the desk. He headed out, making sure to give Sebastian plenty of space.
Jaxon had to admit that Sebastian was something to look at—tall and dark, broad and fine. He liked the type. Very Alpha. Manly. Rrrrar.
Sebastian’s steps slowed, the man’s head tilting. Clever, clever.
Jaxon faded back, actually holding his breath. He needed theme music. Duh, duh, duh da….
Two big men, bulls or possibly buffalo, began to flank Seb.
Okay. He put on a little speed, just in case, but Sebastian seemed to know them. So he shook off his burst of adrenaline.
Sebastian led them into a bar—some seedy piece-of-shit dive where he was never going to slide in unseen. Crap. He wasn’t one to just sit and wait outside. Seb was his responsibility and… fuck a doodle doo.
He slipped around back trying to find a way in. There had to be a kitchen, a supply door, something. There. A guy came out the back with a crate of bottles. Jaxon waited, keeping to the shadows.
He slipped into the storage room and made his way, quiet as a mouse, through the kitchen. Seriously? He was sneaking through a kitchen. This was ridiculous as it was amusing.
Sebastian sat with the two thugs, heads together over a tablet in the center of the table.
What the hell were they doing? It wasn’t like he was showing off designs.
“…no one’s claiming responsibility, Mr. Zeller. No one. This is a big job; someone ought to be bragging.”
“I want to know who paid.”
“Of course. We just haven’t had any luck.”
Oh, Christ. Sebastian had hired thugs to find out who had attacked Ron Zeller.
“Make some luck. I have to be out of here in two fucking weeks. I need answers.”
“Got it.” The big guys looked at each other. “About the budget….”
Sebastian growled, the sound pure predator.
“Right. Right. Got it. We’ll let you know when we find something.”
“Good boys. You have ten days. I’m serious.”
“Yessir.” The big guys stood, nodding, then left. Leaving Sebastian by himself.
Sebastian stared down at the tablet, a look of pure agony on the man’s face.
He was on a mission, and yeah, Ron Zeller was right. It was going to get Sebastian in trouble.
Too bad for his own personal puppy that Jaxon wasn’t going to allow that to happen. No, he was going to keep Sebastian safe, e
ven from himself.
Sebastian began to draw on the tablet, the pen moving quickly, easily. That was more like it. Do your work, bud. Get the job done.
He could see Sebastian sink into his own world; the wolf stopped looking when the doors opened, stopped sniffing for danger.
So Jaxon drifted out to the main room, staying in reach. This was where Sebastian was most vulnerable. He kept his head on a swivel, buying a ginger ale so he wouldn’t get kicked out.
When the heavies walked in the door, the three pit bulls made a beeline toward Sebastian. Dammit.
He slid out of his chair, hugging the wall until he was three feet from his primary.
Sebastian lifted his head, his nose wrinkling. Good boy. Close up shop. Good dog.
The tablet went into the bag, and Sebastian stood, unafraid as a wolf who knew he was at the top of the food chain could be.
The three guys began to move in, but Sebastian abruptly walked up to the bar, leaning across the wood surface to speak to the bartender.
The bartender offered Seb a wicked grin, then something shiny and dark passed hands. Oh, for fuck’s sake. Seriously?
Shit, he had to stop this before it went outside. Now.
“Sebastian! Hey!” He walked up to his “boss,” put one hand on his arm. “Funny running into you here.”
Sebastian blinked down at him, pure shock on his face. “Imagine. This isn’t your kind of place, I would think.”
“Every so often I want a ginger ale from the soda gun, you know?”
“I…. Ginger ale?”
“Yep. This place has the best. Do you want me to call the driver? Uh, Tyrone?”
“To go where? I didn’t have a meeting.”
“No, I know. But this really doesn’t seem like your kind of place either. Boss.”
“No? Not a biker daddy, am I?”
“Well, maybe in deep secret, but you know, it doesn’t match up with the dossier Ron gave me.” He might as well let Sebastian know he understood more than just a virtual assistant would.
“A dossier. Nice. Come on, man. Time to get you somewhere less grumpy.” The piece was slipped back over the bar as Sebastian turned to him.
“Is it grumpy?” Jaxon put on his innocent face. Sebastian was protecting him. That was droll. But it would work.
“Apparently. See you, Baxter.”
“See you, baby doll. Come back anytime.”
Sebastian waved over his shoulder, then guided Jaxon out to the street. “You should call the car.”
The street was crowded and hot, the people trying to get home, to get out of downtown, to get to a restaurant. He pulled out his phone, keeping close to Sebastian, his head on a swivel. “Hi, Tyrone? Jaxon. The new guy? Sebastian and I could use a ride. We’re at….” He trailed off, looking at Sebastian.
“Main Street Garden Park.”
Okay, then. “Did you hear that?”
“On my way,” Tyrone said.
Thank God. He needed to get Sebastian in a controlled space, out of the crowds and into the car. So far the three big dogs hadn’t followed them, but they had to be back there somewhere.
“Don’t be worried, man. I’ll protect you.”
“Yeah? This is a shit neighborhood.”
“It’s not. We’re good. No worries.”
“No? I don’t know Dallas. I’m from California.” And he let innocent slide into worried.
“Well, I’m no local, but I spend some time. You’ll learn to like it, I’m sure. The people are great.”
“Cool.” Jaxon bounced a little, hoping it looked like optimism.
The car arrived, and he’d be damned if Sebastian didn’t try to slide him in and shut the door behind him.
“Boss?” He put a bit of nerves into his voice. “Where are you going?”
“I was… oh, for fuck’s sake. I’ll deal with it later.” Sebastian slid in, the wolf born and bred to take care, to protect his pack. The man was a powerful beta, that was for sure.
“Oh, cool.” His grateful smile didn’t need to be faked. Score one for bringing out Sebastian’s need to keep his pack safe. “Everything is new.”
“Like I said, by the time I leave, you’ll be able to navigate. The Metroplex is a dream.”
“I’m sure. I really am capable. I just thought you were about to get mugged.” There, see what Sebastian said to that.
“Possibly. It happens. I can handle it.”
“Sure. Sure, of course. You’re a wolf, right?” Jaxon was laying it on a bit too thick, maybe.
“No. I’m a bunny in disguise.”
Okay, totally too thick.
“Sorry.” He gave Sebastian a rueful curl of lips. “Your uncle told me to be… well, a little delicate.”
“He stresses. Don’t worry, man. Seriously. I’ll be out of your hair in ten days. I need to beat the snows.”
“I’m not one to run off, man. I can really do you some good. Give me a shot?” Jaxon half held his breath, hoping he looked appropriately enthusiastic.
“What are you on about? No one’s fired you.”
“No, but you keep saying I have ten days….”
“I’m heading home. It’s time to go.” He could see the exhaustion in Sebastian’s face.
“Right, but I can still do a lot of work for you.”
“I’ve never needed a PA.”
“No, but then again, you were a junior executive and designer.” God, talking made him tired. He was good at it, but Jaxon liked action far better.
“Uh-huh. Where do you want to be dropped off, man? Back to the office?”
“Actually, my rooms would be great. I’m in the Zeller Tower. I’m starving.” Come on, bossman. Offer to take me to supper.
“You are? Huh. You like it there?”
“It’s nice. Big. I’ve never stayed on the twenty-fifth floor before.”
“I have rooms up there somewhere.”
“Really? Where do you stay?” Like he didn’t know. Sebastian slept on the couch in his office, for the most part, burning the candle on both ends and in the middle.
“Wherever. I’m not too worried.”
“Oh.” He couldn’t manage disappointment, so he went for hopeful. “Where can I get good tacos?”
“Oh, they have them—”
A sickening crunch filled the air and Sebastian grabbed him, wrapping him close as the car began to spin in a wild circle.
“Shit.” He couldn’t do a damned thing. Sebastian was too strong, and they just kept skidding.
“I got you. You’re okay. Tyrone?”
“They’re coming again, boss!”
“Turn away from them! That will reduce the impact,” Sebastian growled.
Smart pup.
“Trying! Two cars. Hummers.”
“Motherfucker.” Sebastian dove for the floorboard, pushing him down and coming up with a .44. Jesus, this man! Who kept a monster like that in the car?
He rolled to hands and knees, ready to spring into action as soon as they rocked to a stop. Tyrone was a good driver.
“Stay in the car. It’s bulletproof,” Sebastian growled, the sound rough and raw and lupine.
“Right here, boss.” He ducked down, but he was looking for a way out. Sebastian was about to get himself killed.
“Good man.” The car crunched to a halt, and Sebastian tensed, crouching as he reached for the door.
The sickening crunch as another vehicle hit them came before the nauseating spin of their car.
The impact sent Sebastian’s forehead into the door, and the man crumpled, falling to the floor with a dull thud.
“Well, fuck.” The car rocked to a stop, so Jaxon popped up to look at Tyrone. Out cold. He grabbed his sidearm from its pancake holster. Time to get into the fight.
The pit bulls swarmed the car, but they were having the devil’s own time getting in, thank the moon. He watched, waiting to see what they would do because they were in a high-rise area now, for fuck’s sake. Shooting up the place would b
e bad. Car had to be armored.
Not only that, but this was fucking downtown Dallas. There ought to be cops fucking everywhere….
The sirens and the lights showed even as he had the thought.
He shoved his weapon back where it belonged. They were the victims here.
“You want me to drive, boss?” Oh, fuck yeah. Tyrone was awake and moving.
“He’s out, man. How do you feel about Colorado?” Jaxon snapped.
“Exceptional. I fucking hate Texas. Now?”
“Now. They can ship anything we need up.”
“You got it.” Tyrone took off like a fuck-starved jackrabbit, the dogs falling to the side.
The cops would convince those boys to stay off their ass for the moment, and they’d be gone before the bastards realized they hadn’t gone home.
“You know where we can trade in cars? This one will be noticeable. Can’t be at the high-rise.” Jaxon hauled Sebastian back up in the seat and buckled him in.
“Grapevine. We’ll trade in, head up to Amarillo and crash for the night, yeah?”
“Works for me. I’ll let the big dog know.” He had a direct line to Ron, so no one else would know where they were.
“Good deal. Boss okay?”
“Breathing and pulse are good. He just whacked himself hard.” Jaxon would check Sebastian’s eyes, but really, he wanted the man asleep until after they hit their vehicle exchange.
“Excellent. It was more than time to get out of Dodge. The mountains are calling.”
“You got that right.” Jaxon grinned at Tyrone in the rearview. “I can tell you and I are gonna get along great.”
“I think so. This whole death-wish shit’s for the birds.”
“You noticed it too, huh?” Good. That made it easy to collude with Tyrone for Sebastian’s safety.
“It’s hard, when the lead bull proves he’s not infallible. Real hard. You have your heroes.”
“Yeah.” Hell, he’d never thought of that. Sebastian had to be scared to death. That was where the bravado came from, not any real desire to be Alpha, he’d bet.
Jaxon got Sebastian settled on the seat, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt. There. Better.
The scent of pure male predator hit him and made him bare his teeth. Damn. Whoa, tiger. Well, okay fox, but still. He just needed to get his shit together.
He grabbed a bottle of water, then his phone so he could text Ron.
