“I hate this feeling.Hateit.Hated it with Crosby.Hated it with Gail.Why can’t I make it stop?”
Gideon let out a sigh.“Because you care about your unit, Joey.It’s not a bad thing.”
Joey took a breath and then another.“But… but I’vekilledpeople!”he explained, taking another swallow.The rum was good—so good—and it didn’t burn down.It slid, satisfying and almost fattening, the way a really good cock sometimes filled his throat.
That image made him widen his eyes—and almost made him choke on that oh-so-smooth drink.
Oh, it had been a long time since he’d gotten laid.Either sex.Yeah, sure, he’d spent his first six months wandering around the city, hooking up when he felt like it.Condoms and PrEP and he could fuck an army and be nothing but a little sore in the morning.
But in the last year, as he and Gideon had found more and more concerts to attend, spent more and more nights in Gideon’s apartment, listening to albums—vinyl, CDs, streaming—and had started a heated rivalry playingLaw & OrderBingo when attending theater productions, the need for that kind of quick-and-dirty sexual encounter had waned.
Joey hadn’t wanted to articulate it, but he knew what was happening.
Sex—feral, animal—had been the only real human connection he’d allowed himself to make.But this last year, it hadn’t just been Gideon—although his connection had been strongest, themostferal, themostanimal—it had been all of them.
From that terrible moment when Crosby had fallen and Joey had needed to kill the gods-benighted dog to now, the steel sinews of his once purely autonomous heart had bound so tightly to the other people in his unit that he felt his chest tighten with the need to breathe.
“Shh….”Gideon had moved closer, had his hand on Joey’s knee, and dammit, Joeyneededthat connection.
“This is stupid,” he said harshly and went to set his drink down on the coffee table so he could storm out, but he ended up knocking it back instead.
To his surprise, Gideon refilled it with the bottle and can on the table, and he took another swallow, his hands shaking.
“It’s not stupid,” Gideon said, and this time he wrapped his arm around Joey’s shoulders.Joey found himself sagging against Gideon Chadwick, the man he’d once thought was weak, a rabbit or a deer, and trusting all his weight on the thin, wiry frame.“It’s human.”
Joey let out a bark of what was supposed to be laughter, but that’s not what it sounded like, even to himself.“I’m not human,” he muttered.“I’m a wolf.”
“Sure you are,” Gideon murmured.“You’re a badass little wolf.We all know that.You take down prey, you protect your pack—but even a badass wolf doesn’t like it when his pack is injured.”
“I hate this,” Joey said, his voice cracking.He heard the crack and tried to hold back his horror.That sounded like… that was almost like….
He wasn’t aware that Gideon had taken the now-empty glass away from him.He wasn’t aware that he was slumped against the one human on the planet he trusted with his throat.
All he was aware of was that Gideon’s arms, sinewy and strong, were wrapped around his shoulders as he buried his face in Gideon’s throat and howled.
IT WASnot the first time he woke up on Gideon’s couch, his mouth tasting like rum or beer or wine.Itwasthe first time he woke up with a roaring headache and a hangover, though.Gideon was crouching eye level with him on the couch with a big glass of water and two ibuprofen.
“Don’t worry about work,” he said.“For one thing it’s Saturday, and we don’t have anything active and pressing.For another, Harding texted everybody with strict instructions to stay home.Apparently he’s got a meeting with Deavers so he can clear Gail’s injury before Monday.”
Gail’s injury.“Fuuuuuuuuck…,”he managed before tossing down the meds and taking a swig of sweet, sweet water.
“Yeah.Crosby’s been in the hospital room all morning with her.You and I get to pull a shift in the afternoon.Clint and Tal get tomorrow.She’s coming home on Monday, and Crosby’s going to need our help outfitting her place so she can do things like use the bathroom and take a shower.She’s got a roommate, but I guess she’s a big cheese in the 43rd Precinct and isn’t going to have a lot of time to babysit.We’re on.”
Joey nodded, and then realizing Gideon’s pewter-gold eyes were level on his face, measuring his every microexpression, he grimaced.
“I’m fine,” he said gruffly.
“No,” Gideon said, smoothing his hair back from his face.“Don’t give me ‘fine’ bullshit.I know, Joey.I know who your father is.I’vestudiedwhat it must be like to grow up in a home like that.I get it.Your whole last year has been learning what a real family is about, and it’s only possible because most of us are predators, like you.”
“’Cept Crosby,” Joey said, trying for disgust and ending up with admiration.Crosby the fuzzy bunny.Crosby the puppy.Crosby the solid-ass citizen who could give Joey a look of kindness after Joey hurled his cookies.
“Well, yeah.”Gideon laughed, shaking his head.“Crosby’s an anomaly.But we’re a bloodthirsty lot.I mean, Pearson was anassassin,for sweet fuck’s sake.And Clint’s a scary motherfucker in battle—I’ve been shoulder to shoulder with him.”
Joey felt an unwelcome shaft of jealousy and tamped it down because any idiot, even Joey, could see it would never be like that between Gid and Clint.
“But…,” Joey started to say it, but the words stuck.God, how long had Gideon known about his father?
“But we’re your pack now,” Gideon said softly.“We might be the only people whocouldbe your pack.You know what happens to lone wolves in the wild, Carlyle?”
