Boarlander Silverback

by T. S. Joyce

  “Nah,” Kirk said, turning on her. He squared up to her and pushed her short hair behind her ear. “You’ve been through it. A little banged up, but tough as all get-out. You know how to get things done because no one ever coddled you. Independent, headstrong badass, and if anyone wants to pet you, you’ll make ’em earn it.” He lowered his voice and said, “You’ll make me earn it.”

  She searched his face to make sure he wasn’t teasing, but he wasn’t even smiling. No one had ever pegged her so accurately and in such a way that made her proud of who she was. In a soft voice, she admitted, “I like that name much better now.”

  “Moosey’s has the best damned barbecue around, and I feel like my belly button is rubbing a burn on my backbone I’m so hungry.”

  “I could eat,” she said coolly as he guided her around a giant rain puddle in the muddy parking lot.

  He hesitated in front of a trio of open doors that seemed to be the entrance to a garage-themed restaurant. “Look, the food isn’t the only reason I brought you here.”

  “Ulterior motives, huh? Spill it.”

  “You said earlier that I should give you a chance to meet my crew. Well, one of them works here. She’s Second in the Boarlanders—”

  “Audrey.”

  “Yeah.” Kirk frowned. “I forget you probably have files on all of us.”

  Ally snorted. “Yeah, files I stopped reading. It didn’t feel right reading someone else’s intel on people who haven’t done anything wrong. I wanted to form opinions of you guys on my own. Reading those files made me feel like I was stealing your stories. I would rather earn them.”

  Kirk drew back like she’d clawed him. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. Is that her?” Alison waved to the leggy brunette wearing a pink Moosey’s Bait and Barbecue shirt, cutoff jean shorts, and cowgirl boots. She wore a megawatt grin and was waving at them. Alison had seen Audrey’s white tiger the first night she’d met the Boarlanders, but she’d never seen the woman half of her.

  “Yeah, you need her,” Kirk said in an odd voice.

  “Need her how?” she asked as they made their way toward Audrey.

  “To protect you from Clinton.”

  She opened her mouth to ask what the hell that meant, but Audrey hugged Kirk’s shoulders and then arced her friendly smile to Alison.

  “Oh, my God,” she murmured, the grin falling from her lips. “You’re the cop.” Audrey took a step back and looked utterly confused. “I didn’t recognize you out of uniform.”

  “Yeah,” Alison said with a nervous laugh. “There aren’t many parameters with my job out here. My boss said I was fine to wear the same clothes I did at my last position, and, well…I was undercover. I don’t wear the uniform much.”

  Audrey flashed an intense look to Kirk, then back to Alison. “You gave Emerson the note. I know you didn’t mean it for me, but you helped me to register with the Boarlanders before the deadline. So…thank you.”

  “I was really happy when I saw that you’d been able to do that. And I was cheering for Bash and Emerson, too. The law changes aren’t my choice, nor do I agree with them. I’m just supposed to enforce them.”

  Audrey lifted her chin and stuck her hand out for a shake. “I’m Audrey.”

  Alison grinned and shook her hand. “I’m Ally.”

  Audrey pointed back and forth between Ally and Kirk. “And you two are here to conduct an interview? Oooor…”

  “I’m taking her on a date,” Kirk said, sliding his hand in soothing circles on Alison’s back.

  “Wait, wait, wait. You two are a thing?” Audrey yelled too loud.

  “Audrey! Customers!” an older man called out. He wore a Moosey’s shirt and stood behind a covered grill area outside.

  “Sorry, Joey!” Audrey twitched her head toward the counter where, in fact, there was a couple staring up at the menu written on a huge wooden board over a meat cutting station. “Walk with me.” In a whisper-scream, she said, “You two are a thing? Does Harrison know? Or Damon? Or Clinton? Does anyone know?”

  “You do. And I’m pretty sure Damon figured it out. And Mason,” Kirk admitted, casting Alison a quick glance. “He’s been my sounding board.”

  “You mean he was who you talked to when you were avoiding the hell out of me,” Alison muttered.

  “Oh, he avoided you?” Audrey giggled. “That doesn’t work. When a shifter animal chooses a mate, it’s done.”

  “Wait, what?” Alison asked.

  Kirk pursed his lips and shook his head at Audrey like she was crazy.

  “What do you mean when an animal chooses a mate?” she pushed. They were not done with that little bomb Audrey had just dropped.

  A sharp rumble came from Kirk’s chest, and the air felt muggier, which made no sense because they’d just come under the protection of the barbecue joint and there were fans up in the top corners of the room.

  Audrey’s face had gone comically blank.

  Urgently, Alison said, “Tell me!”

  “Great dusty balls, I ain’t good at lyin’, Kirk,” Audrey muttered. “You should’ve told her.”

  “Dammit, Audrey. She isn’t a shifter like you. She’s human. Different timeline.” Oh, now Kirk looked pissed.

  Audrey jacked up her dark eyebrows and looked stubborn. “Emerson is human, and her and Bash’s timeline was just as short as me and Harrison’s. Maybe shorter!”

  “Nye!” Kirk said, slashing his hand through the air.

  Audrey’s mouth flopped open, and she looked like one of those cartoon characters with smoke blowing out of their ears. With fire in her brown eyes, she rounded on Alison and whispered, “His gorilla picked you. I can tell. You’re it for him, and if you stick around, he’ll be an awesome mate for you. He won’t be able to help himself. Your happiness will be all he’ll think about.”

  Kirk wrapped his hands around air in a choking motion. Audrey flipped him off before she turned and made her way behind the counter.

  Alison was dumbfounded. Shocked was too small a word. His mate? Mate? That sounded huge. How did she not know the exact meaning of this? She was a police officer. She should’ve been prepped better than this. She should’ve known the culture of the people she was watching, protecting, and conversing with. But with Audrey’s declaration, she now felt in way over her head.

  Kirk felt big, and now he would never be able to deny it. She was big, too.

  “Your animal picked me?” she asked in a strange, husky voice she barely recognized.

  “I was thinking we should split some jalapeño sausage.”

  “Kirk.”

  “You’re right. Ribs are better.”

  “Kirk.”

  “Cheesy corn is a must.”

  “Kirk! Am I your mate?”

  “I don’t want to talk about this here.”

  Alison gritted her teeth and squeezed his hands, leveled him with a fierce look. “Tell me quick, Kirk.”

  “Yes.” His voice cracked on the harsh word, and now he wouldn’t meet her gaze. Jerkily, he nodded his chin. “I chose you. I didn’t mean for it to happen. Didn’t want it.”

  That stung like a slap on cold skin. “Why?”

  “Because you can do better.”

  “That right there is a bullcrap cop-out. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Kirk crossed his arms over his muscular, barrel chest and sighed. “Because now you’ll be the one running.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Okay.” In her lap, Alison readjusted the to-go boxes of food they hadn’t eaten. “Okay,” she repeated for the tenth time since she’d found out she was someone’s…mate. That word felt huge.

  “You’re freaking out,” Kirk said low. Even though he was the epitome of relaxed, leaned back against the seat of his Mustang, arm draped over the steering wheel as they coasted up the winding mountain road, his eyes had been that eerie yellow color that said his animal was just under the surface.

  Posturing seemed to be a big thing for Kirk, but maybe that was
important to all gorilla shifters. Or all shifters. Crap on a cracker, she regretted not doing more research. She was a friggin’ cop after all, and she’d just adopted this if-it’s-important-they’ll-tell-me attitude. That wasn’t her. She’d never been a go-with-the-flow type of girl. She’d always been a know-as-much-as-possible-so-she-could-freaking-survive type of person.

  “I haven’t been upfront with you,” she murmured, holding onto the handle on the door as Kirk sped around a curve in the road. “There is a reason I was picked for this task force. Or not task force as much as a post up here in the mountains.”

  Kirk tossed her a dangerous glance. “Are you spying on us?”

  Anger blasted through her veins that he still thought she was some kind of snitch on him and his people. She took an extra beat to steady her temper before she responded. “No, I’m not a spy. But I think you should know the whole story before you pick me.”

  “Too damned late, Holman. It happened that first night I saw you in the woods. Sleeping with me only made it ironclad. You still have an out. You do. I’m not pressuring you to continue with me, wouldn’t want to force a pairing with anyone. I don’t want to drag you along beside me for this.”

  “Do you have an out?”

  Kirk clenched his teeth so hard a muscle twitched in his jaw. “Too late for me. Like Audrey said, you’re it.”

  “It’s a lot for a first date.”

  “And you’re flighty, which is why I have been trying to keep this slow and casual.”

  “But I shot you!”

  “And I still couldn’t bring myself to be mad at you!”

  “I was pulled from active duty,” she blurted out.

  Kirk’s angry expression faltered. “What?”

  “You should know what kind of terrible person you got mixed up with, Kirk. You should know just in case your animal can take that decision back. In case you want to pick someone else.” She sucked in a shaking breath and explained, “I was working undercover at a cocaine factory. It was this huge setup, and they had a guy who had been undercover for years and worked his way up the chain of command. But they needed someone who was always there, taking note of who was involved, who they dealt with, how much product was moved. Someone who could get their hands on documents and proof when the time came.”

  “You?”

  “Yeah. I was young and looked hard. I was a street rat and knew the language, knew how to play the part. I landed a job cutting coke from bricks and bagging it up to deal. I was lucky. That’s what my handlers said, but they weren’t there. They didn’t understand the cost, or maybe they didn’t care. I lived in a roach-infested one-room apartment at night, and during the day, I worked in a dark, dank, hot room. And I wasn’t allowed to wear clothes.”

  Kirk swallowed hard and looked sick. Slowly, he pulled over to the side of the road and put the car into park. “Why not?”

  “Lots of reasons. Fabric is flammable, less risk of us stealing product if we were naked, the powder could’ve got on our clothes and tipped off drug dogs. Lots of reasons were given, but it didn’t take away from the fact that I was nothing. Naked. Invisible if I was lucky. The tattoos were a way of feeling covered. I started getting ink the second week I worked there.”

  “Because you didn’t like people looking at you?”

  “One in particular. Riggs was the undercover cop who had risen mid-level in the operation. I respected him. I was uncomfortable being naked in front of him because…” Her cheeks burned, and she dipped her gaze to her clasped hands on top of the to-go boxes. “I cared for him. He openly flirted with me in the factory. It was expected, and lots of the guards did it. One of the lower-level guards had taken a fancy to me, and his attention was terrifying, but Riggs swooped in there and took me under his wing. Told the guy if he ever even looked at me sideways, he would rip his throat out. And he played his part well. Too well maybe. I don’t know. I grew feelings. I looked forward to seeing him on the days he was supposed to come in. I felt safe when he came in, but how seriously could he take me if I was naked? If I was always cowed, just observing the operation, cutting coke, day after day, doing my part. Doing a job that kept me less-than. We went on like that for two years and, eventually, it didn’t feel like undercover work anymore. I gave into the show. It felt like my life.”

  “Where is Riggs now?”

  She swallowed bile and squeezed her eyes tightly closed at the memory of him lying on the floor, gasping for breath, eyes on her, silently telling her not to give herself away. “They made him as a cop, and they killed him. They made an example of him in front of all of us. It was slow.” A tear slid down the bridge of her nose, and she shook her head, desperate to ease the pain in her chest. “I wanted to stop after he died. Wanted to grieve and run far away from that hell hole, quit my job, the whole nine yards. But I was cracking that operation wide open with my intel, and we still needed to connect big names to it. I was supposed to just carry on, but I couldn’t get Riggs out of my head. The guilt… I didn’t do anything.”

  “You couldn’t have. They would’ve killed you, too.”

  “I know, but most days, I thought maybe that would have been better. Easier.”

  “Fuck,” Kirk gritted out, wrapping his hand around hers.

  “He was the only friend I made in all that time. The only one I allowed myself to have. And when he was gone, the man who killed him started looking at me with this sick hunger in his eyes. So, one day, he took me into one of the back rooms, and I’d been prepped, you know? I was supposed to do whatever I had to do not to get made, but he’d killed Riggs, and I couldn’t just spread my legs for him. Couldn’t.” She wiped her tears from her face with the sleeve of her shirt and looked up at Kirk so he could see what a monster she was when she whispered, “And so I killed him.”

  Kirk pulled her in tight against his chest. His arms shook around her, his heartbeat pounding too fast. He should know about the dark parts of her before he picked her, though.

  “I barely made it out of there, and after that, I couldn’t go back. I’d compromised all those years of work. I’d failed Riggs. Failed my department. Failed myself. My intel gave the proof to put a lot of the low-level players away, but we didn’t get the big fish because I cracked. I failed my psych evals with flying colors. PTSD was the diagnosis that got my ass dumped onto deskwork, and eventually they got tired of denying my requests for anything else to do, so they sent me here. I’m not here to spy on you, Kirk. This job is my punishment.”

  “Why, Ally? Why would you sign up for something like that?”

  “Because what choice did I have? I remember my mom. She was beautiful and funny when I was a little kid, but then there were the years of addiction. Of her being on the streets and not at home with me. Of her being strung out, slurring her words, bringing all these guys by, and not caring for me. She had no idea who my dad was, so she had no financial help there. I was taken away from her, and I didn’t know how to feel. Relieved that I would have somewhere safe to sleep? Angry that she didn’t try harder? Sad that I wasn’t enough to keep her straight? She got locked up and the state kept me, and all the sudden, the only person I recognized in my life was one of my mom’s friends, Regina. She visited and gave me letters my mom mailed me from prison. She even tried to adopt me, but she had a criminal record, and it never went through. No one wanted an angry ten year old. People want cute babies to raise, so I aged out of the girls’ home. Do you know what percent of kids go homeless who age out? Go to the streets? Get addicted? It’s a ridiculous number, and I didn’t want to be another statistic. I wanted to do something that could help people. And I know that sounds fucked up to you, because who was I possibly helping by sitting in that damned drug house bagging up coke? But I was taking major operations off the streets that had ruined my mom. I was the good guy.” She was crying now, punching her words out through her sobs. She hadn’t talked about this with anyone other than her required therapist in Chicago, but this time felt different. She wasn’t havi
ng to watch her answers or keep details hidden. She could unload to Kirk because he made her feel safe and he wasn’t going to take her job away if she didn’t give a good enough answer. With every gritty thing she exposed about herself, Kirk hugged her tighter.

  “I didn’t have opportunities coming at me from all sides. I had one offer to train for a real, paying job, and I could hold onto it and own it, or I could be just like the other kids who aged out and hit the ground too hard to ever recover. I just thought you should know all of it before you called me your mate.”

  “You’re not scared of that word,” he murmured, more stunned statement than question.

  Alison sniffed, then laughed. “No. It felt damn good to hear someone pick me. Not because of what I look like or what I could do for them, but just because I’m it for someone. And not just any someone, but you. You feel like mine too, Kirk. And I know how fucked up that sounds because of the human timeline and all, but every instinct I have screams that you are this safe house for me. Like you could be happiness. Like my road has forked—one path leads off into these haunted woods, one leads off a cliff, and the middle one is you. Hands in your pockets, smile on your face, Boarlander woods behind you, just waiting for me to stop considering the self-destructive paths and choose you back.”

  “And do you?” Kirk asked low, like the answer meant something. Like it meant everything.

  “Are you sure you still want me after everything I’ve told you?”

  Kirk unbuckled her seat belt, slid his seat back, and pulled her onto his lap like she weighed nothing. Burying his face against her neck, he inhaled deeply, then murmured, “Nothing you just told me scares me off, Ally Cat. It only makes me like you more.”

  Her face caved, and more tears stained his shirt. What a beautiful thing to hear after everything she’d been through. After all the damage, she was still enough for Kirk. Clutching his shirt and hugging him tight, she whispered, “Then yes. I choose you, too.”

  Chapter Eleven