“Who am I like?” Corey asked.
“Move away from him. You’re behaving like a bloody queer.”
Corey remained in place. “Maybe that’s because I’m gay.”
Shit. R.J. tensed, knowing what was coming even if Corey didn’t seem to care.
“You’re fuckin’ joking,” Grant snarled.
“Nope.” Corey folded his arms across his chest and smiled. “You can go home now.”
Wilson cursed. “Gay! The president of the United States has a gay son. Fuck, that’s rich.” He pounced and grabbed Corey, shaking him hard before he could wrench free.
Before R.J. intervened, Corey pushed back, flailing his arms and clipping his father on the chin. A growl escaped as he aimed a second punch. Wilson hit the wall, stunned by Corey’s strength.
“You’re not taking suppression pills.” Wilson swiped at the trickle of blood coming from his nose.
“I’m taking the pills,” Corey said.
“Bullshit. You shouldn’t have strength like that. Keep away from me, dammit.”
“I’m taking the damn pills,” Corey snapped. “Tell me the truth for once. What the hell are you talking about? You’re my father.”
Wilson removed a pristine white handkerchief from his jacket pocket and glared at Corey. “Fuck no, and I’m glad. My son wouldn’t turn out a fairy.” He grimaced at the blood on his handkerchief and started when Corey snarled under his breath.
Stepson. Things started to make more sense. R.J. stole a swift glance at Corey.
“You’re not my father. Color me relieved,” Corey said, his tone mocking. “Why are you pretending if you hate my guts so much?”
R.J. got it before Corey. “For some reason your father—”
“He just said he’s not my father,” Corey snapped.
“He’s using you somehow to get to the president,” R.J. said. “Maybe blackmail.”
The flicker of irritation in Grant Wilson confirmed he’d hit on the truth.
“Is your wife Corey’s mother?” R.J. asked.
“I don’t have to answer your questions.”
“Is she?” Corey asked.
“Yes.”
Corey’s eyes narrowed. “Did she have an affair?”
“She was pregnant when I married her.”
“That must have pissed you off when you found out,” Corey said.
Wilson shrugged. “Not particularly.”
R.J. stared in disbelief. The man had schemed from the start, even before Corey’s birth.
“Get out.” The warning growl coming from deep in Corey’s chest obviously worried Wilson because he backed up rapidly. R.J. had trouble withholding his grin. He was so proud of Corey. His wolf might lie close to the surface but Corey’s control appeared absolute.
“I’m going,” Wilson snarled. “Pansy.”
“Call me whatever you want,” Corey said. “At least I’m not a bully and a hypocrite.”
“Don’t bother coming back to L.A. or trying to contact your mother.” The expression on Wilson’s face was almost gloating. “I can’t take responsibility for your safety there.”
“I’m glad I never have to see your ugly face again, you sorry son of a bitch,” Corey said, his tone hard and callous.
They watched Wilson back up to the door and wrench it open. His footsteps clattered across the wooden floor, signaling his departure. Seconds later a car started, although neither of them moved until they could no longer hear the motor.
Hal appeared in his office doorway. “Everything okay?”
“Not exactly,” Corey muttered. “You can tell him everything. Hal should know the truth.”
R.J. ran through everything they’d learned.
“Do you think he’ll cause trouble?” Hal asked.
“I don’t know him well enough to say,” R.J. said.
“I embarrassed him,” Corey said. “I think I’m okay as long as I stay away from his territory. I don’t know what he had in mind. Maybe he can still go ahead with his plans.”
“What are you going to do?” Hal asked.
Corey had no idea. None at all. How should he feel after learning the man he’d always called father wasn’t related to him? “It’s obvious my sperm donor didn’t care enough to know me. I’ll probably go ahead with my plans to find a place in Cody, maybe find a job in one of the galleries there.”
“What about your mother? You could call her before your father gets home,” Hal said.
Corey considered the suggestion. Part of him wanted answers, but why had his mother gone along with the pretense? If he was her son, why had she let Grant bully him all the time? Why hadn’t she supported him like a mother should? Like Teague’s mother. “I’ll call her now.”
“Do you want us to leave?” R.J. placed a hand on his shoulder in silent support. At least the news of his birth hadn’t changed R.J.’s opinion of him.
“No. Stay and listen. If you think of any questions while I’m talking to her let me know.” He picked up the phone and dialed his home. His mother picked up almost immediately. “Mom, it’s me.”
“Corey. Where are you?”
“New York,” Corey said on instinct. “Mom, who is my real father?”
“What? Why on earth would you ask me that?”
“Stop lying. I know. Tell me the truth.”
His mother started crying and Corey steeled his heart. “Is it true?”
“Yes.” His mother’s voice was scarcely louder than a whisper and Corey strained to hear her.
Something else occurred to Corey. “Does he know he has a son?”
“No.”
Corey barely suppressed a snort. It was obvious Grant wanted to tell him or at least use Corey to exact some sort of pressure on presidential decisions. The idea sickened him. Grant had moved him around like a pawn on a chessboard, willing to sacrifice him whenever the mood suited him.
“Do you ever see him?”
“No. He was a friend of my brother’s and used to come home with Charlie sometimes. We went out a few times, but I haven’t seen him for years.”
“So Grant knew about me from the start?”
“I couldn’t marry a man without telling him the truth,” his mother said, a trace of shock in her voice.
Corey’s mouth twisted. She’d lied to her son without difficulty.
“Grant was in an accident. He can’t have children of his own. He told me your arrival was a sign.”
He wanted to howl. R.J. must have sensed his anguish because he moved closer and wrapped his arms around him, comforting him despite Hal’s presence. “He was always strict with me.”
“It didn’t hurt you, Corey,” his mother said. “He maintained discipline because he cared, because he wanted the best for you.”
Yeah, right. “Did he know who my real father was from the start?”
“Of course. We don’t have any secrets from each other.”
So she knew about Teague. “Is Teague’s mother still staying with you?”
“No, it’s the strangest thing. A man came to visit her. Her brother, she said, and she and the children left without an explanation. It was most peculiar and very rude!”
Corey knew Teague didn’t have an uncle. He glanced at Hal and received a nod. The silent reassurance stilled the churning in the pit of his stomach. At least Teague’s mother and brothers were safe. He didn’t know how he’d manage to look Teague in the face if they met again. Teague’s predicament was entirely his fault.
“Corey, I have to go. There’s another call coming in. Look after yourself and call me again.” The phone disconnected before Corey could respond. R.J. released him and Corey replaced the phone in the cradle, blinking to clear the film of moisture suddenly shrouding his vision.
“She didn’t even ask where I was staying in New York or request a contact number.”
“Try not to worry.” Hal patted him on the shoulder. He glanced at R.J. “You have people who care for you. Blood ties aren’t necessary to make a
family.”
R.J. winked at Hal. “I’m proof of that. My family is here with you and Hal.”
R.J.’s words made him feel better, and when Hal nodded and squeezed his shoulder, the tears started to make his vision misty again.
“Everything will work out,” Hal said gruffly. “I’ll make sure they’ve left the park. We should be in business again, and our friends can come back to a bit of comfort before they move on.”
Corey couldn’t believe both R.J. and Hal would accept his past so easily. He watched Hal make a quick phone call and leave his office. “Is that it?”
“Corey, you’re not your father. Stepfather,” R.J. amended. “Hell, from what I’ve seen you don’t take after your birth father either.”
“I’ve never followed politics,” Corey said.
“He’s in favor of the suppression drugs,” R.J. said.
“I hope Grant doesn’t make trouble for Hal or put a stop to the courses here.”
“He’ll keep quiet because he knows we can reciprocate trouble-wise,” R.J. said. “Come here, kid.”
It was funny how an order from R.J. didn’t make him want to dig in his heels. Corey didn’t bother to fight. He stepped into R.J.’s embrace without a qualm. Lifting his head, he accepted the kiss, taking the implicit comfort. He sank against R.J.’s muscular chest and opened his mouth, lazily stroking his tongue against R.J.’s. A spike of sensation zapped his groin and blood started to fill his cock. He wriggled his hips against R.J., silently letting his lover know of his need.
R.J. laughed against his lips, pulling away slightly before pressing his forehead against Corey’s. “Hold that thought, kid. Wait until after dinner.”
“Promise?”
“Yeah.”
Good enough for Corey. “Do you think I should keep taking my suppression pills?”
“If you stop you’d be breaking the law.”
“Would anyone notice? Where is the nearest pack to here?”
“Jackson Hole. The drugs change a werewolf’s scent. You smell a bit herby, which is probably from the hint of wolfbane they use in the pills.”
“But in my pack… I mean, the wolves in the L.A. pack, all smell slightly different. I never noticed until I returned from Yellowstone.”
“Which tells us there are different strengths of the suppression tablets available. When the drugs first came out we were promised equality.”
“You can’t be that old,” Corey said in surprise.
A bark of laughter emerged from R.J. and his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Hell no. I learned it in history at school.”
“Ah, that explains it. I was always doodling through history and drew caricatures of my teacher and the other students. I spent a lot of time in detention.”
“I need to cook dinner.”
“I’ll help,” Corey said. “We can talk about what we’re going to do to each other tonight once we’re alone.”
Chapter Fifteen
They came in the middle of the night.
Corey woke without warning, his heart pounding. A sound. Out of place. Foreign. He listened closely.
Every instinct screamed something was wrong. Corey pulled from R.J.’s embrace and slid from the narrow bed.
“What is it?” R.J. sounded tired, making Corey smirk.
His grin died when he glimpsed the gliding shadow not far from the cabin.
“R.J., someone’s outside.” As he spoke another figure separated from the shadow of a tree and drifted closer. “Do you have your phone? Ring Hal. We have company. Enforcers.”
He heard R.J. speak to Hal. Seconds later he stood next to Corey at the small cabin window.
“Enforcers,” Corey said again, a sick sensation in the pit of his stomach. This was his fault. He’d brought trouble to Yellowstone, because of his stepfather, because he was the president’s son. He turned to grab some clothes.
“Don’t bother dressing,” R.J. said. “We’ll shift to wolf. The bastards won’t expect that.”
R.J.’s phone gave a low buzz, indicating it was on vibrate. He snapped open his phone and spoke in a low tone before ending the call. “We’re ready for them. They won’t be expecting so many.”
“So we’re going to shift and spring out at them?”
“Yeah. They won’t learn identities if we’re in wolf form.”
Grant wanted him dead or at least captured. Hell. He’d never be safe again. Corey’s temper rose and his wolf writhed in irritation. Good. He hoped Grant was outside because he’d like to have another face-to-face meeting. Corey let his change flow smoothly through him. He growled low at the back of his throat. Beside him, R.J shifted and they both eased closer to the door. The minute an Enforcer opened the door they’d spring low, taking him by surprise.
Corey quivered in anticipation. He cocked his head, listening to the cautiously approaching footsteps. The handle twisted and the door inched open. The scent of sweat and gun oil hit him first, then the slightly herby scent he and R.J. had discussed earlier. The door eased open farther. R.J. nudged him gently and Corey tensed.
When the door didn’t creak, the man opened it fully, his attention on the bunk beds in the room. The man took half a step forward and he and R.J. sprang together.
The man hit the ground. A startled cry burst from him, fading instantly when Corey grabbed him by the throat. Instinct took over. He bit down, tasted blood and yanked hard. A crack sounded. The man stilled.
R.J. growled at him and Corey let go, too psyched to experience horror. No time to worry. There were more.
They slipped through the darkness, both freezing when they glimpsed another man creeping stealthily in their direction.
Every lesson Hal and R.J. had taught him about hunting sprang to mind. He glanced at R.J. and they communicated silently with a mere glance. They parted, each approaching the man from a different direction.
Corey recognized this one. The man had struck him more than necessary when Corey became stuck in half-form.
Payback.
The man stumbled and Corey was on him. He slashed his claws across the man’s back. A shot fired. Someone shouted. Corey snapped with his jaws, barely wincing when the man punched him in the ribs. No panic from this one. A soldier. Experienced. He thrashed around, attempting to throw Corey off.
A growl sounded.
Fierce.
Determined.
Behind him.
Finish him. Make it quick. Don’t let your prey suffer.
Corey remembered the lectures. This man deserved to suffer. He’d probably helped torture Teague. The next growl was an order. Corey slashed with his claws, grabbed the man’s throat and twisted. The taste of blood appalled him, thrilled him. Horrified him, but he didn’t let release his grip.
This was war.
Slowly the fight faded from the man. Corey released his grasp, refusing to lap at the blood as his wolf wanted. Drinking blood would make him a beast.
R.J. appeared beside him. He snarled, a stern command to follow. Corey ran after R.J. toward the cabins housing the underground werewolves. They had everything under control.
So where was his stepfather?
Didn’t like to do his own dirty work. That was clear.
Corey picked up the scent of one of the intruders and followed the trail out of the camp. Behind him R.J. growled but Corey ignored him this time. This was about payback. Personal satisfaction.
He had a point to prove.
Corey picked up the pace, following the trail with ease. A car was parked down the road, the same car his stepfather had driven off in earlier in the day.
Before he could act, R.J. grabbed him. They rolled in a tangle of limbs. R.J. was bigger than him. Stronger, but Corey had fury on his side. He snarled and struggled against R.J.’s bulk.
“Who’s there?”
Corey growled low and mean, fury and frustration lacing the snarl. He twisted, determined to get free of R.J.
A man appeared from the dark and Corey stilled. Immediatel
y, R.J. grabbed his scruff and held him.
“Quick!” the Enforcer shouted. “They’re after me.”
Two big wolves sprang from the darkness, pouncing at the Enforcer before he could scream. Seconds later the man was still, the scent of fresh blood filling the air.
R.J. released Corey and charged his stepfather. Wilson ran around the car and fumbled with the driver’s door. He finally managed to open it, cursing when R.J. snapped at his foot.
Corey rushed the car with the other wolves. The car started but R.J. wrenched Wilson from the driver’s seat, dragging him across the ground as if he weighed nothing more than a piece of paper.
Corey let out a sharp growl of disapproval. It was his right to put a stop to his stepfather’s rule. He pounced at R.J. but one of the other wolves tackled him. Seconds later Grant Wilson was dead.
R.J stepped away from the body and morphed back to his human form. Furious, Corey shifted too.
“Why didn’t you let me kill him? It was my right.” His father—stepfather—had treated him like shit all his life, making him feel useless. Unloved. Not even his mother had stuck up for him because that bastard controlled their lives. Dammit, it had been his right to deal with his stepfather. He hadn’t needed R.J. to protect him.
“You don’t understand,” R.J. said tersely. “Look, this isn’t the time and place. Calm down.”
Corey let out a derisive snort. What he really meant was he intended to do things his way. “I thought we’d already decided I wasn’t a child. Don’t treat me like one now.”
“Then don’t behave like one.” R.J.’s glare stoked his temper.
Corey turned away, pissed. He couldn’t talk to R.J. now, not with the agitation running through both him and his wolf. Before he could dart away, a hand curled around his left biceps.
“We’ll walk back to the camp together.”
Corey wrenched away, desperately reaching for control. He didn’t want to fight with R.J. His stepfather was dead. This was a good thing. His mind accepted this truth, but deep in his heart he’d wanted to be the one to mete out justice. For him. For Teague. For the dozens of other poor werewolves Wilson had abused either indirectly or by setting his Enforcers on them. “Leave me alone.” He took off at a sprint toward the camp. To his relief, this time R.J. let him go, probably assuming he’d return to their cabin. Instead Corey kept running and, once out of sight, shifted smoothly into wolf.
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