Lone Wolf

by Shelley Munro

  “I have three more out back in the storage room.”

  “Make sure you hang them before you leave.”

  “I will!” He and Teague could have a celebratory dinner tonight. Maybe the paintings he’d placed on consignment at Yellowstone would sell quickly too.

  The hours flew and he arrived back home on a real high. He clattered up the stairs to his third floor apartment instead of waiting for the rickety elevator, arriving at his door not even breathing hard.

  Teague was waiting at his door, two bags sitting at his feet.

  “Hey.” Corey gave his friend a quick hug of greeting, the familiar scent of wolf absent. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “You need someone to keep you honest.” Teague grinned, although his words made Corey wonder. He unlocked the door, standing aside to let Teague enter. In that instant he came to a quick decision. He might have to hide his werewolf nature but he didn’t have to lie about his preference for men over women.

  Not to his friend.

  Of course, Teague might not react favorably to the revelation. Corey hesitated then closed the door and turned to Teague. “I’m gay.”

  “I figured that at Yellowstone,” Teague said.

  “You didn’t say anything.”

  “It’s none of my business.”

  Corey hadn’t realized how much he craved his friend’s acceptance. The relief made him feel almost giddy.

  Teague’s jaw dropped. “You know I like girls, right?”

  Corey spluttered. “I don’t think of you like that.”

  “Because I’m not R.J.”

  “You knew?”

  “I slept in the bottom bunk. Every time you came in late you woke me up.”

  “You never said anything.”

  Teague smirked at him. “No, but a guy gets curious. I couldn’t figure out why you always smelled like him.”

  “But R.J. said the pills they used to wean us off the suppression drugs made us smell alike.”

  “That’s what confused me. It took a while for me to put the clues together.”

  Corey laughed, the knowledge that Teague knew the truth liberating. “I’ll show you your room. It’s not very big.”

  “I don’t care. I’ll start paying rent as soon as I get a job.”

  “No problem, dude. I sold some paintings. We’re going out tonight to celebrate.”

  The loud ringing of the phone interrupted, the strains of a recent rap tune bringing a grimace. One of his parents. Great. Just great.

  Knowing they’d call again if he didn’t answer, Corey cursed and jabbed the answer button.

  “Corey, I haven’t seen you much since you returned from Yellowstone.”

  “Hi, Mom.” He spoke rapidly when she paused to take a breath.

  “I expect you for dinner tonight. Oops, there’s the doorbell. I have to go. Seven o’clock.”

  “Wait, Mom. Can I bring a friend?”

  “Of course, honey. Don’t be late. You know what your father’s like when he doesn’t eat on time.” The line clicked before Corey managed another word.

  “My mom wants us to come to dinner. That okay?”

  “You don’t need to look after me.”

  “My father might know of someone hiring.”

  Teague shrugged. “If you’re sure.”

  “You’d be doing me a favor. If you’re at dinner my father won’t have a chance to lecture me. Believe me, dinner will be more peaceful with you there.”

  “Don’t you get on with your folks?”

  “I haven’t told them I’m gay for a start.”

  “Good luck with that. My mom always asks fifty questions. I can never keep a secret around her.”

  “I’m a disappointment to my father.” For the first time, Corey wanted to share. “He doesn’t understand why I want to draw and paint instead of design buildings.”

  “Do you think he’d hire me?”

  “We’ll find out soon enough. I might not get on with my father, but he’s a fair employer. He hires a lot of pack members.” Corey didn’t think his father would take out his anger at his son on Teague.

  An admiring whistle filled Corey’s old vehicle when he pulled up at the gateway of his parents’ house.

  “Wow! This is where you grew up?”

  Corey ignored Teague’s reaction and spoke into the intercom. Seconds later the gate clicked and started to swing open.

  “Just because it’s big, doesn’t mean we’re a family.” He put the car in drive and accelerated through the imposing gateway. Wow, he’d really said that. Surprise crinkled his brow and clenched his hands around the steering wheel. It was the truth. This place didn’t feel like home. He’d made his own home at his apartment.

  “Let’s go.”

  “I didn’t force you to bring me.”

  Corey turned to Teague in surprise. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You don’t seem happy about me being here.” Teague gestured at the house and its obvious luxury. “I’m wearing jeans.”

  “You kidding?” He gestured at his own black jeans and skintight T-shirt. “Remember you’re doing me a favor.”

  Teague scowled at him, uncertainly glimmering across his face. “You sure?”

  “Positive, man. And we’ll get a better dinner than anything we can scrounge at the apartment.”

  A maid answered the door and took their jackets—one denim and the other leather—without a flicker of distaste. Shortly after their arrival, his uncle, aunt and three female cousins appeared for dinner, too, creating yet another barrier between Corey and his father.

  Feeling the weight of a stare, Corey turned his head from the conversation to meet his father’s gaze. His father was a large bull of a man and one could call him handsome. No matter how hard he searched, Corey couldn’t find a bit of himself in his parent. He glanced away almost immediately, unable to meet his father’s stare for longer than a few seconds. Sure boded well for their upcoming discussion.

  Hal and R.J. hadn’t made him feel worthless. Corey couldn’t remember a time when his father had shown approval.

  “Teague, where do you come from?” one of his cousins asked once the introduction stage finished. She fluttered her eyelashes and leaned closer.

  Corey suppressed a flash of amusement with difficulty. Teague better watch out. His cousins were slobbering after his friend, treating him like male chocolate.

  “How was Yellowstone?” his uncle asked.

  “Fantastic,” Corey said. “Teague and I met at Yellowstone.”

  Half an hour later, they sat around the dinner table.

  “Didn’t it hurt to change to a wolf?” one of his cousins asked.

  Corey grimaced in memory. “It hurts like a bitch.”

  “Corey! Don’t speak like that.” His mother glared at him, her eyes narrowing in warning. Apologize or else. He’d witnessed a similar expression on his own face when his temper slipped.

  Corey dipped his head in silent apology and averted his gaze. “Sorry. Yes, shifting to wolf is painful.”

  His uncle nodded. “So I’ve heard. Did you pass the course? Did you make a kill?”

  Corey and Teague exchanged a grin. They’d given up trying to explain their lack of success because no one believed them.

  “We ran out of time,” Corey said. “They gave us a pass.”

  “There were humans around the day we hunted,” Teague said. “Their presence made a successful hunt difficult.”

  “Who trained you?” His father spoke directly to him for the first time since their arrival.

  “Both Hal Price-Jones and R.J. Blake conducted lessons, but mainly R.J.” Corey wondered why his father wanted to know.

  “Blake? Price-Jones?” his uncle questioned sharply. “Have I not heard those names mentioned at the council meetings?”

  “Blake was the child who escaped the Enforcers’ cull. Price-Jones petitioned for custody and later sponsored him for a job at Yellowstone.”

  His uncle
cut a hunk of meat off his steak and shoved it into his mouth. A spot of gravy splattered on the front of his pale blue business shirt. He chewed and swallowed. “I’m surprised he was given leave to take the job with traitors in his background.”

  Corey’s father sipped his red wine. “We have our spies. Blake has never shown a hint of treason.”

  Spies? Did that mean R.J. was in danger? Hal? He shot a quick glance at Teague, saw his friend’s concern.

  “What?” His father noticed their exchange. “Did you notice something out of the ordinary?”

  “No,” Corey said slowly. The last thing he needed to do was act suspicious. “They were both great.”

  “Teague?” his father asked. “I’d like to hear your thoughts?”

  Teague didn’t hesitate. “They both acted in a professional manner.” He wrinkled his nose and his lips curled into his trademark grin. “They set clear rules and guidelines. We learned a lot.”

  His father nodded and took another sip of wine.

  His mother, bless her, changed the subject. “Are you attending the Spring dance?”

  “Ooh, yes,” his youngest cousin said.

  The women launched into a discussion of dresses and fashion, which thankfully didn’t require any input from him.

  “Time for you to quit playing the field. Pick a woman and settle, boy,” his uncle boomed from the far end of the table.

  Corey barely suppressed his cringe of horror. He caught Teague’s sympathetic gaze.

  His aunt turned to his parents. “Do you have any candidates in mind for Corey?”

  Corey opened his mouth and shut it again when Teague kicked him under the table. Teague was right. The last thing he needed right now was a confrontation with his father.

  “We’ve considered about half a dozen girls,” Corey’s mother said.

  What! News to Corey.

  “You’ll have to stop putting on makeup.” His middle cousin let out one of her annoying girly giggles. “No girl wants her husband to wear more makeup than her.”

  His other two cousins joined in the giggle chorus while a pained expression marched across his father’s face.

  “I like makeup.” Corey winced when Teague kicked him again and he shot a warning glower at his friend. His wolf stirred, sensing his irritation. A deep breath and determination tamped him down.

  Corey’s mother cut a cheesecake into portions and deftly served it while a maid distributed the plates. “Corey won’t wear makeup during the gathering.”

  It was like a trap closing over him. If he didn’t act soon, he’d end up married to a sweet woman who wouldn’t understand why he didn’t want to spend time with her. He missed R.J., hungered for his touch. His kisses. He missed their discussions about everything—both big and small.

  “Did I tell you I sold five paintings of Yellowstone at the gallery?”

  “What, twenty bucks each?” His father’s mouth twisted into a faint sneer, the sort that made his wolf stir again.

  “Nope.” A trace of smugness filled Corey. “Two thousand a piece.” R.J. would be proud of him. A series of images flickered through his mind—naked limbs, two bodies. God, he missed R.J. so much, despite the way they’d parted.

  “Two thousand?” A hint of respect crept into his uncle’s eyes. “That’s serious cash.”

  Corey noted the varying reactions of his family. They ranged from disbelief to doubt to avarice. His mother bore an expression of dismay. And if he wasn’t mistaken, a trace of panic.

  He caught his father watching and forced a smile. “Lucky I have more to hang in the gallery.”

  His mother bit her bottom lip before standing and picking up her empty plate. She collected several more before speaking. “We thought you’d come and live back here when you started work for your father. It would save the drive through heavy traffic every morning.”

  Corey aimed for matter-of-fact instead of confrontational. “I already have a job at the art gallery.”

  “We’ll discuss this later,” his father said.

  “Are you dating anyone?” his aunt asked, and Corey could have kissed her for the change in subject.

  Predictably, his cousins giggled. They did that a lot.

  His wolf stretched in agitation and Corey breathed carefully, taking several even breaths until he calmed. “Not at present.” And not in the future either.

  He and Teague managed to escape about two hours later, thankfully without the promised discussion with his father.

  Teague sprawled out in the passenger seat. “Your father is scary.”

  Corey gave a short laugh. “You don’t need to worry. He approved of you. It’s me who needs to worry. I still have a discussion in my future.”

  “What’s wrong with working in the art gallery? My mother would be ecstatic if I earned a cool ten thousand in a day. Your parents treated your sale like it was nothing.”

  Corey sighed. “I don’t get it either.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I know what I want.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I want to spend more time with R.J.”

  “What does R.J. say?”

  Corey pulled up at a red traffic light. “I haven’t talked to him since we left. We didn’t exactly part on good terms. Besides, he’s not out of the closet either. I don’t want to make trouble for him.”

  “He’s not a mind reader.”

  Corey pressed down on the accelerator when the light changed and shot Teague a scowl. “Aren’t you the Ms. Fixit today?”

  “Sorry. I babysit sometimes and hear the girls talking with their friends. This crap is like rot. Sinks into the brain and festers. Once there you can’t get rid of the stuff.”

  A snigger escaped at the aggrieved expression on Teague’s face. “Aw, are you blushing?”

  “Fuck off.”

  Corey laughed louder.

  “I was only trying to help.” Teague’s voice sounded stiff this time, a little offended.

  Corey wiped a tear from his eye and slowed to scan the road for a parking space. “I’m glad you’ve come to live with me.”

  “And?”

  “I’m not gonna contact R.J. He made it clear we had a vacation fling.”

  “Bawk, bawk, bawk.”

  “Jeez,” Corey muttered. “And you’re complaining about me.”

  “Sounds fair to me,” Teague said with a grin.

  Corey climbed from his car, locking it once Teague stood on the sidewalk. “What happens if R.J. says no again?”

  “What happens if he says yes?” Teague countered.

  Chapter Nine

  Corey almost choked on the piece of chocolate he was eating when his father strode into the art gallery the next afternoon. Something about his father’s stance told him. D-day. His father paused in the imposing entranceway of the gallery, a tall figure posing between marble pillars. He scanned the open floor plan of the gallery, his gaze coming to light on Corey. Lengthy strides brought him to Corey’s side in seconds.

  They stared at each other. In the past, Corey would have glanced away, shown his submissiveness. Today for some reason he didn’t. He caught the brief flare in his father’s eyes, the imperceptible flattening of his lips.

  Confidence spread in Corey, but he retained enough sense not to gloat. “Did you want something?”

  His father crowded him and sniffed, his broad nostrils flaring as he dragged in a breath. “Are you taking the suppression drugs?”

  “Of course. It’s against the law not to take them.”

  A frown creased his father’s brow. “You smell different.”

  Corey shrugged, calmly holding his agitated wolf when he wanted to turn tail and flee. “They told us they put an additive in the pills they use to wean off the suppression drugs to make us smell alike. Maybe there’s a lingering residue.”

  “As long as you’re taking the pills.”

  “I’m taking the pills.”

  His father shot him a steely glare and stepp
ed away. “It’s time to stop your silliness, give up chasing a stupid hobby. If you’re not at my office tomorrow, ready to work, don’t bother coming.”

  “Pardon?”

  “You heard me. If you don’t turn up at the office, dressed half decent, you’re not welcome at my house or near the pack.”

  Corey stared, unable to hide his shock. His father was treating him like an errant pack member. “You’re threatening me—”

  “It’s not a threat.” His father’s phone went off, indicating a text. He fished it from his pocket to read the message. “I’ll expect you at nine in the morning. My office. Oh, and Corey, don’t try my patience and arrive late.” He spun around and stalked out the door before Corey had time to untangle his tongue.

  Expulsion.

  His father meant to evict him from the pack. This wasn’t a warning. He intended to carry out his threat.

  “Luv, your father is scary.” Gerald minced from the store room, a bright splash of lime green and black against the neutral wall behind their white wooden desk. “I decided I should stay out of your discussion.”

  Corey had known of Gerald’s presence, as had his father.

  “What are you going to do, luv? I don’t see you in an office.”

  Neither could he. A problem.

  A couple entered the gallery, cutting Gerald’s conversation short. They sashayed straight to Gerald when he approached them.

  “My brother purchased some paintings of Yellowstone National Park, two days ago. We fell in love with them because they reminded us of our honeymoon. Do you have any similar paintings?”

  “As it happens, I know the artist personally,” Gerald said smoothly with a meaningful glance at Corey. “If you follow me, we have several paintings available at present. I hope to receive more stock soon.”

  Yesterday excitement would have pumped through Corey, but right now queasiness roiled in the pit of his stomach, as if someone had kicked him in the gut. His father.

  Expulsion from the pack if he didn’t follow orders, give up his art. God, he couldn’t. Spending hours in an office would hurt. Ignoring his creative urges would feel like cutting off his right arm.

  Corey fed the address labels into the printer and started to slap them on envelopes ready for a special newsletter mailing. Part of him liked the mindless task. The other part of him wanted to stop replaying his father’s edict and attempting to translate the nuances in the ultimatum.