“So what do we—”
Aaron’s shushed him with a quick kiss, then pulled back to meet his gaze. “I have an idea, but I suspect you’re not going to like it much. At least I hope you won’t.” He hurriedly washed his hands, then fastened his jeans while Michael scowled at him.
“What does that mean?”
Aaron grabbed his T-shirt and pulled it on. “Sort your clothes out and I’ll tell you.”
Michael complied, but his scowl remained firmly in place as he tucked himself away and pulled his jeans up. “Speak then.”
With a sigh, Aaron tugged his bag out of the locker, shoved his towel into it, and set it on the floor. “You need to hit me.” At Michael’s incredulous expression, Aaron forged on. “I can re-create the cut, but not the bruises, and I can’t fake them because all my stuff is at home.” He reached for Michael’s hand and curled it into a fist. “It’s the only way, and we need to fucking hurry, as they’re gonna burst in here any minute to see what’s taking so long.”
Michael blinked once and Aaron saw the moment he accepted there was no other way. “Fuck.”
“Come on,” he said, pointing to his face. “My clothes will cover everything else, and I can fake being in pain, but you need to hit me here.” He pointed to his cheek. “And here.” He pointed to his mouth.
“Jesus.” Michael glanced down at his hands. “This is going to hurt both of us, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
There was no time to tape Michael’s hands or offer him any sort of protection, so yes, it was going to hurt.
Aaron braced for the pain but it still took him by surprise when Michael punched him—twice in quick succession. He stumbled back into the sink.Motherfucking bastard, he could hit. Hard.
His face throbbed, and blood trickled down his chin. Aaron reached up to wipe it away before it got on his clothes and inspected himself in the mirror. Flicking out a claw, he added a cut to the mark on his cheek. “That should be close enough.” Would he remember to walk like he was in pain while talking to Smith? “Better give me one to the ribs just to be on the safe side.”
The door started to open.
“Now.”
Michael darted forward and landed a punch to Aaron’s kidneys, stealing his breath for a second. It fuckinghurt. No fear of Michael pulling punches. Aaron caught him examining his damaged knuckles, and he had just enough time to grab a pair of gloves out of his bag and shove them at Michael as the door opened wide.
Casually stepping in front of him as he hurried to slip them on, Aaron slung his bag over his shoulder. “Ready when you are?”
The guy on the right pointed at Michael over Aaron’s shoulder. “You go with Steve. He’ll take you out the side entrance so no one sees you. That way none of us get in any shit.”
Aaron didn’t like it. Didn’t want them to be separated. They could be taking him out back to rough him up or worse.
“All right.” Michael sounded okay, not like he was the least bit concerned, and Aaron reminded himself that Michael was an SCTF officer. He was used to dealing withshifters. He could take care of himself.
They left the bathroom and parted ways in the corridor.
It took everything Aaron had to let Michael walk away. His wolf, restless under his skin, set him on edge. They’d forged a connection, no matter how fleeting that encounter was. For Aaron it had been enough for his instincts to kick in. The urge to protect Michael was only a dim pulse inside him, for now, but it was there nonetheless. He rolled his shoulders, making sure to wince as he did so, and went where he was told.
He was taken outside to the back of the building. A lone black BMW sat waiting.
Smith’s bodyguard pointed at the car. “They’re in there.” With that, he turned and left, leaving Aaron alone. The car doors didn’t open. Obviously, they were waiting for Aaron to go to them, so he started towards it, startling when he heard Smith’s voice from inside. Quickly covering it with a cough and a show of adjusting the bag on his shoulder, Aaron slowed his pace and strained to hear what they were saying.
“…police been to see him?”
“He said not.”
That was Blake. Were they talking about him?
“You believe him?”
A pause, and Aaron held his breath.
“Yeah. Even if they found the bloody tape in Crossford’s bag, there’s nothing on file to compare it to, nothing to link Crossford back to you.”
