Page 54 of Full Moon Frenzy

She’d hurt him, had broken his heart and shattered his trust, but he could survive a break-up. What he’d done to her had been far more insidious. He was no different than his grandfather, after all. A cruel bully, acting in ego and pride.

They didn’t know the daily trauma of emergency medicine, the same horrific scenes that played on a loop behind his eyes when his brain wasn’t otherwise occupied, the same tragedies, just in a different setting for her. It was a terrible thing to be the first on the scene, but Trapp couldn’t pretend that being the one to call time of death over and over again wasn’t surely just as bad.

His wolf was vibrating beneath his skin, threatening to push through his chest, split his bones and spontaneously turn right there in the middle of the coffee shop.

“How dare you.”

The conversation playing out in front of him went silent at his sudden interruption, Xenna’s head raising, eyes going wide as the minotaur glanced back.

“Trapp?”

“How dare you!” he repeated, feeling as though he had gasoline in his veins. “She’s brand new here! She doesn’t know who to trust. Why is it classless behavior for Dr. Brunelli, but not for Muffy? You’re right, we all know you shouldn’t trust Muffy as far as you can throw her. Doesn’t that reflect more on Muffy for being a sewer mouth than the person who was naïve enough to not expect her confidence would make its way around town like the number three bus?”

“Trapp, that’s not fair. I’m just telling you what I heard!”

“And what was that?” He scowled, his face twisted up in an expression that had never before appeared on script. “Gossip you treated as facts? If the mothers in the playgroup want gentle pediatrics, they ought to stop using the urgent care clinic to avoid canceling their nail appointments. And if my charts are being audited, it’s because professional accountability is what keeps you all alive when you drive like idiots or stub your fucking toes. I’m not worried about it. Why are you?”

Xenna’s mouth dropped open. Nif gasped from behind the espresso machine.

“And what does it say about the rest of you?!” He gestured to the counter, to Nif, who’d been glaring since he’d entered, and the wide-eyed goblin between her and Xenna. “You were real eager to listen to stories about me just the other week, Xenna.” Trapp stepped out of line, shaking his head, his fingers trembling in anger. “You’re all unbelievable. She’s brand new in town and you’re trying to ruin her reputation before she even fully unpacks. Anyone who says anything above a whisper under this roof really ought to know what they’re risking.”

He turned to the door, realizing there was a full line of gaping customers behind him. Trapp dropped the still-full cup of coffee into the trash near the door, missed, hearing the cup bounce off the rim and go splashing to the floor. He didn’t look back. He didn’t care about his reputation anymore.

Adriana was right — if it had been so easily soiled, it wasn’t that clean to start with. He didn’t need to be a hero to the same neighbors who would turn on him on a dime . . . But if this town wanted someone to hate, he was willing to give it to them.

***

Jackson: Hey, I’m here already. Are you inside?

Grayson: Where the fuck are you?

Owen: Hey, did you need me to pick you up from the station?

Grayson: TRAPP

Jackson: For your sake, I hope you’re unconscious in a burning building right now

Owen: Trapp, wake up

Lowell: I don’t know what’s going on but I’m enjoying it

Grayson: You do understand that you’re entirely replaceable, right?

Grayson: I can just as easily have Lowell step up

Grayson: At this point, I might prefer it

Lowell: YES, I ACCEPT

When he woke, hours later, his head throbbing, it was to find a line of missed calls on his phone screen, punctuated with text messages from his brothers.

Trapp blinked blearily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, head pounding. His mouth tasted like he’d licked the pavement, throat sticking. It wasn’t until he had staggered to the kitchen, filling his glass with cucumber-and-mint-infused water from Grayson’s refrigerator that he remembered.

The tailor.

He dropped his aching skull against the refrigerator door, groaning.

The bespoke dresses and suits for the wedding that Grayson was paying for, for the entire bridal party. All they’d needed to do was show up. The appointment for the groomsmen had been made around his schedule. The appointment that had been on his calendar for several months.