Expecting The Unexpected (Nakaka Book 3)

by Cree Storm

  “Yes, sir.” Both men said, then left to do as Groth had ordered.

  It didn’t take long before they heard a screeching sound and someone screaming, “Let us go! I swear if I get away from you I’m gonna kick your nuts so high you’re going to think they’re tonsils!”

  “Is that Nug?” Spencer asked, with wide eyes.

  Groth growled low, when he saw not only Nug being manhandled into the club with a teary-eyed Jory being led in as well. When they were placed in front of Groth, Jory cried, “We didn’t do anything Groth. We were only going back to the kitchen when this guy grabbed us.”

  Groth brought Jory close to him whispering, “It’s okay, little bit.”

  “Kick his ass, Groth. He hurt Jory and scared him. Kick his ass.” Nug said, as he wiggled in the guard’s arms.

  “Donte said you wanted us to bring anyone that was close to the club. I found these two lurking just outside the club doors.” The guard holding onto Nug said, as another guard assisted Jory in by his arm.

  “Let him go, Torro.” Garth practically growled.

  The second the guard let go of Nug, the little shit turned, and with as much force as he could muster, kicked the guard right in the nuts, dropping the big man to his knees.

  “Holy shit.” Spencer gasped.

  Nug pointed his finger at the pain-stricken man, hissing, “I told you what I was going to do when you let me go. I’m sick of you big fuckers thinking you can just pick me and Jory up like we’re a sack of potatoes. I’m no veggie or starch, so fuck off.” He turned to Garth and waylaid into the man, “You said that you’d protect us from shit like this. You’re a big, shitty, fucking liar!”

  Garth quickly tried to explain, “Nug, there’s been a—”

  “No!” Nug shouted, swiping his hands out to the side. “You promised. You gave your word, and yet you did and said nothing when that man hurt Jory bringing him to see you. You did nothing when he...” Nug stopped, then turned. “You know what? Forget it. I should have known you were nothing but a bunch of blowhard shitheads, like all the others. Come on Jory, let’s get out of here.”

  Jory looked torn. He gave Garth an imploring look, and then did the same to Nug. When Nug saw the indecision on his best friend’s face, he snorted, “So it’s like that, is it? Well, then stay. What the fuck do I care?”

  “Nug!” Jory called out, but Nug ignored him and continued towards the exit.

  Spencer saw the hurt look Nug had given Jory before he turned around, and the devastated look Jory had when Nug said what he did.

  Groth sighed, “Nug, come back here. I need to talk to you.”

  Nug just flipped Groth the bird and kept walking. Groth called out, “Hold him!”

  Two guards Spencer hadn’t even seen came out of nowhere and went to grab a hold of Nug. The slippery little shit dropped to his knees, causing the two men to smack into each other like one of those love scenes in the movies. Nug then rushed to the left, as the two men righted themselves and went after him.

  “Well, shit,” Groth grumbled, as he made his way closer to Nug. “I’m sorry if you or Jory got hurt, Nug. I didn’t know they were going to come across you, and I didn’t see who Mennen and Torro had detained, until it was too late.”

  “Liar! You’re a big, grumpy, sexy, butthead, liar!” Nug said, dodging left then right, before sliding under a table and rushing to the other side.

  Groth growled, “I am not now, nor have I ever been a liar. Now stop this foolishness and get over here.”

  “You might want to wipe your lip. I think you have some bullshit still left on it!” Nug shouted, as he ran towards the stage.

  “Nug, stop running around and come here. We can talk this out.” Jory shouted out.

  “There’s nothing to talk about. You chose your side. I find that honesty is a precious gift, Jory. And don’t accept gifts from this cheap-ass bastard!” Nug called back, as he rushed under one table to end up behind another.

  “Damn it, Nug! I’m not kidding around here. Stop this nonsense. I’ve got something really important going on, and I don’t have time for this shit,” Groth snapped.

  “Nug, please stop before you hurt yourself.” Jory called out to his longtime friend.

  Nug made a scoffing sound, “I’m not talking to you, Jory.”

  “You just did. Now stop this and come here,” Jory yelled out.

  “I only talked to you so I could tell you I’m not talking to you,” Nug called out, as he rushed behind the curtain.

  Spencer worried that whoever hurt him could be hiding somewhere back there, and that had him calling out, “Nug, please come here. Someone just tried to kill me, and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  Nug gasped and came out, giving Groth the opening he needed to catch Nug and picked him up.

  “Hey, you big oaf, let me down! I don’t let liars touch me, or near me, or anything with me,” Nug shouted as he kicked and squirmed in Groth’s arms.

  “Not until you calm yourself and apologize to Jory for hurting his feelings.” Groth said, with a grunt when Nug kicked him in the thigh, just barely missing the man’s nads.

  Spencer’s eyes went even wider, when Groth smacked Nug’s ass, “Stop that before I put you over my knee.” They went even wider by the lustful look that Nug gave, before he schooled his features once more.

  Throg must have seen it too, because he snorted, “Like that’s a deterrent.”

  Nug stopped all movement until Groth set him down, holding onto the man’s shoulder, so he couldn’t run off again. He looked at Nug and then Jory. “Now I want to know what you two were doing outside the club doors. Jory, you said you had work until five this morning. It’s only three ten.”

  Jory didn’t look at Groth. As a matter of fact, he looked as if his toes were far more interesting.

  Spencer turned to look at Nug but he wasn’t much better.

  “Guys. One of you better start talking, or I’m going to have Donte take you both to the cells until you do,” Groth threatened, but Spencer had a feeling the man was bluffing. With the way Groth was looking at the two Nakaka, Spencer could tell there was a bit more going on here.

  “You’d do that?” Jory gasped.

  “I told you he was so full of shit that the toilets are jealous.” Nug said, crossing his arms. “He says he will protect us from all the bullies, and then he becomes one and threatens to jail us.”

  Groth crossed his arms, “I would do it, if it meant I wasn’t getting the information I needed to help find whoever tried to hurt Spencer, yes.”

  Nug looked at Spencer with wide eyes, “Did someone really try to kill you?”

  Spencer nodded. “Yeah they did.”

  “Why? You’re a nice guy. Why would someone try and kill you?” Jory asked.

  Shaking his head, Spencer answered, “I don’t know. From the sound of it he didn’t like the fact that I was a shifter living on Nakaka lands.”

  “I want to know what you two were doing outside the club?” Groth said, in a deep growing tone.

  Sighing, Jory answered, “We saw you come in here and we wanted to know what was going on.”

  “You were being nosy? Why am I not surprised? Gods, Nug, you really are never going to change.” Spencer said, with a laugh.

  “What? We were making sure Groth was okay.” Nug muttered.

  Spencer laughed, “More like you wanted to take a peek at the man.”

  Throg suddenly asked, “Did you two see anyone leaving the club, or hanging in the area who shouldn’t be?”

  Nug and Jory looked at each other thoughtfully. It was as if the two men were mentally speaking to each other, but that wasn’t possible unless they were mated, and they weren’t.

  “You know we did. It was kind of odd, but he wasn’t coming out of the club,” Jory replied.

  “But, the club connects to the beauty parlor,” Nug said.

  Jory nodded, “What makes it even more strange, is that the place isn’t open today. Like the club, it’s
closed on Mondays.”

  “And it’s not like this guy would go to the place even if it was open, and if he did, I’m never going to Narvel’s place again, because this guy looked like he was in worse shape than most that go in to get their groove on,” Nug said with a snort.

  “Who did you see?” Throg asked impatiently.

  “Kental.” Jory answered.

  “Holy shit! Seriously?” Spencer asked in surprise.

  Throg and Groth looked at Spencer. Throg answering, “You know who this Kental is?”

  Nodding, Spencer answered, “He’s Alpha Tamale’s son.”

  Nug wiggled his brows, “And Spencer’s ex.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Throg walked back to the club. He had just left Spencer at the mess hall with Elijah, Abe, and Bryant. Petree had tried to get him to join them, but there was no way Throg would be able to continue being so close to his mate, and not give in to what he wanted... and he wanted his mate.

  The man was amazing in Throg’s eyes. Yes, he had lost it for a bit at the club, but who wouldn’t when you had almost been killed.

  Thankfully, Groth had assigned Donte and Mennen as Spencer’s personal guard until they could figure out what the hell was going on, and had his other men looking for Kental.

  Just thinking that name made Throg growl. Spencer’s ex. Fucker. What did he want with his mate? Was he the one trying to kill Spencer? That Kental bastard better hope someone else got to him before Throg did, because if he got his hands on the motherfucker, he’d rip his head off his shoulders, and shove it up his ass.

  “I don’t know who pissed you off, but we come in peace,” Krerr said, as he walked into the club with the shrink.

  Throg pursed his lips in agitation. All he wanted was to be left alone to wallow in his own mind. However, there was also no way in hell he could ever be rude to an ancient. “It’s fine. I’m just concerned about what happened with Spencer earlier.”

  “Yes, Groth informed Hron, and Stok and I were there at the time. Do you really think someone tried to kill him?” Krerr asked.

  “I don’t know if they were trying to kill him, or scare him, but I won’t take any chances. I will find the person responsible, and he will be brought to justice,” Throg stated firmly.

  “Oh, yes, if someone is trying to harm Spencer, it is imperative he be kept safe and the person be caught. With him being pregnant and all, he brings too much hope to our future, for us to do little else,” Krerr stated, as he walked behind the bar, and pulled out a bottle of Scotch, lifting it high. “Anyone else care for a drink?”

  The doc surprised Throg, by nodding, “That sounds good. I’m finished with work for the day. How about you Throg?”

  “Why are you two here, and where is Stok? It’s rare to see you two not side by side,” Throg said, in a wary tone.

  “Stok and I aren’t tied to the hip, Throg. We don’t have to always be together,” Krerr said pouring drinks for them all.

  Throg snorted, “Oh please. I’ve known you and Stok since the beginning of my time, Krerr. I think in all that time I’ve not seen you with your mate a total of two times, and that’s only because Hron broke his leg the once, and Stok went to get the doctor, and the other was when Hron snapped his wing, and again Stok had to get the doctor. So, what’s up?”

  Letting out a deep breath, Krerr muttered, “Fine. How about if we sit?”

  Shaking his head, Throg started to decline, “I would rather—”

  “I’m sorry,” Krerr interrupted. “I know I posed that as a choice kind of thing, but honestly it wasn’t one. Sit, Throg. We are going to talk.”

  Throg moved to the table Krerr indicated and took a chair, accepting the drink Krerr offered. He had a feeling he was going to need it.

  “Doctor Oleander and I were talking after the meeting, and as I sat there and listened, I realized he might be onto something.” Krerr said, sipping his drink. When Throg didn’t say anything, Krerr continued. “You ask what we were talking about? Well I’m so glad you want to know.”

  “I didn’t—”

  Again Krerr kept talking as if Throg hadn’t tried to speak a word. “As much as I would love to go into it right now... and trust me, we will be going deeper, I have a question for you.”

  Throg nodded, and Krerr asked, “Do you want your mate?”

  Immediately, Throg answered, with the one part of the war he had been fighting in his mind. “I can’t have a—”

  “I didn’t ask if you could have a mate, I asked if you wanted your mate?” Krerr said, giving Throg a deadpanned look.

  Throg whispered, “To my very soul, I want my mate”

  “Is it because he was raped and abused by Chantal? Do you find him disgusting and unworthy of you?” Krerr asked.

  Gasping, Throg hissed out, “Absolutely not! I am offended that you would ask me such a thing.”

  “Then why? Why would you deny what you want deep to your very soul?” Krerr asked quietly.

  “Because I can’t. It isn’t done,” Throg insisted, taking a sip of his drink, he looked away. “It can’t be done.”

  The doc sat forward, sitting his partially filled glass on the table. “You know, you aren’t the first ancient guard I’ve met?”

  “No, I didn’t know that,” Throg stated, but said nothing else.

  “Yep, I had a client almost fresh out of school. He was an elder’s son. He came to me, because he suffered some horrible nightmares and everyone was worried, because he had been forcing himself to stay awake, he wouldn’t eat, and he was separating himself more and more from his clutch. When he came to see me, he was always escorted by one of the ancient guards. The young man was having difficulty telling me about his dreams. So, I asked if I could speak with his guard. The family agreed, and the ancient guard told me about the attack. I could tell he struggled just as much to talk about that time in his life, but he did it.” Oleander said quietly.

  Nodding, Throg replied, “Of course he did. It’s our duty to protect and assist the ancients and their families in any way we can.”

  Doc. Oleander smiled a small smile, sipping his drink, then saying, “That’s what he said when I asked him why he was talking with me, when it was clear the man wanted to be anywhere but where he was. He told me that the gods had created him, and others like him to ensure the ancients and their families were protected, cared for, and to ensure their happiness. I then said, you make it sound like they’re your mates. He then told me that wasn’t possible, because ancient guards weren’t destined to find or have a mate.”

  Throg refused to look at the doctor but it didn’t matter, because he wasn’t finished speaking anyway. “When I asked him why he would say such a thing, that all paranormals, shifter, Nakaka, fae... whatever, were given a mate just as anyone else. He told me that he couldn’t do his duty if he was mated. He said it was impossible to do both.”

  “And he’s right.” Throg stated firmly.

  Shaking his head, the doc said, “That’s not true. Bodyguards do it all the time. I know plenty of them that have mates and they still guard the people they are assigned to.”

  “It isn’t the same, doc.” Throg said, with a growl.

  “No, Throg, it isn’t, and you know it. Whatever is keeping you from Spencer, it isn’t that... well, not only that. I think you use that as an excuse... an easy way out, but no, that guard wasn’t right in the least,” Dr. Oleander calmly said.

  Throg shook his head. “None of it matters. I can’t have a mate and I won’t have a mate.”

  “Oh for the love of all the gods, Throg. You are not that dense. You can have a mate! You have a pregnant mate! Do you honesty plan on forcing your mate to go through this process alone? To raise your child alone? As your mate, how the hell is that putting his safety, happiness, and wellbeing, ahead of your own?” Krerr snapped.

  “It’s a mistake!” Throg stated, louder than he intended.

  Krerr grasped Throg’s hand. “The gods don’t make mistakes, Throg. Fate gave
you a mate. Hell, if anyone deserves a mate it’s you. Fate felt so sure you should have a mate, she bonded the two of you without a marking ceremony, by making sure he left that encounter with child.”

  “I’m the last person that deserves a mate, and I refuse to think of my child as a binder to anything,” Throg said, all the fire going out of him.

  “Not a binder. A joyous celebration for you and our people. Fate chose you, Throg, to show us a new beginning has truly begun. Fate chose you, Throg, to give our people hope for prosperity and a continuation of our kind. To me that means that Fate felt you are more than worthy... you are deserving,” Krerr softly said.

  Shaking his head, Throg replied, “Fate didn’t create this child, Krerr, my randiness did, and my stupidity. Had I not lost control, we wouldn’t even be having this discussion.”

  Krerr growled, “Gods be damned! You have always been so stubborn. Are you really going to sit there and tell me that you are going to refuse your mate, your child, your very life, because of a misguided thought?”

  “It isn’t misguided! I will not allow my love life to interfere with my duty again!” Throg snarled, then pulled back when he realized what he had said. Standing, Throg said, “Look I need to go. I really need to find those flash drives.”

  Oleander placed a hand on Throg’s leg with surprising force. “Not just yet, Throg. I’m not finished just yet. I have questions.”

  “Questions you will answer. That is a direct order from your elder,” Krerr stated firmly.

  Throg said nothing as he looked at the doctor. Oleander didn’t lose eye contact when he asked, “Krerr and Stok said that they were away at the time of the attack on your people. Tell me Throg, where were you.”

  There was no way Throg could look at these men. Oleander had asked the one question Throg never wanted to answer. The one question that would prove how shameful he had been. How unworthy as an ancient guard he truly was. If he answered, would they remove him of his position? Would they shun him from the clutch?