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Because, yeah. It was almost Christmas.
There were only a couple of weeks left until the holiday. After the way he blew right past Thanksgiving, Colt hadn’t even realized that Christmas was right around the corner. And while he wondered if that meant he should get Shea a present—or would that just mess things up more?—Colt found himself agreeing to create an idiot’s guide to building a wooden sled from scratch for Maddox.
At least it gave him something to do. Something to prove he wasn’t such a screw-up. If it wasn't for the fact that—thanks to his possessive wolf—the trip to Bloodlust had likely ended up a bust, Colt would’ve offered to build the sled for Maddox. He couldn’t. Unless Wright pulled off a miracle without him, the Nightwalker threat was still out there and Colt still had a job to do.
He gave his word.
And, hell, with the way his wolf was splitting his attention, if Colt got around his power tools, he might end up with a sawed-off paw or something. Then, to add insult to injury, he’d probably bleed out before he regenerated since going back to face Shea right now wasn’t an option.
Because he kissed her, then he ran away like some kind of coward. She didn’t deserve to be treated like that—and, Colt was beginning to realize with a pang he wished he could ignore, he didn’t deserve Shea.
Maddox, though...he’d earned his happily ever after with Evangeline. Just because he couldn’t get his head on straight in regards to his own mating didn’t mean that he wouldn’t do whatever it took to help Maddox out.
His brother deserved that.
It wasn’t that difficult to whip up a set of plans for Maddox. He took some basic instructions on how to build a rocking chair then just changed them around a little. It was mindless work which was good because, sometime that afternoon, Colt started to focus more on what was taking Wright so long than explaining how to carve and sand and shape the bottom of the sled.
He figured his wait was coming to an end when Dodge suddenly looked up from where he’d been hovering near the couch, It’s a Wonderful Life playing on the television. He’d popped out earlier that morning, going to visit another phantom, returning with a huff and a scowl and no news regarding Priscilla.
There was no sign of the witch.
No clue about what to do with the killer vamps.
But, thanks to the hot and spicy scent of an angry human male coming closer and closer to Colt’s territory, at least he'd finally found Wright.
As the ghost drifted toward the door, a curious smirk formed on his faded face. He must’ve caught onto who was quickly booking it toward the front of the house, too.
“Hey, Colt,” Dodge said, jerking his thumb toward the door. “Looks like that moog is back.”
It was about time. If Wright had taken any longer, he might’ve started to worry that the cop had gotten into some trouble after Colt dragged Shea out of the club.
“I know.” He pulled the keys from his pocket, twirling them on his pointer finger so that Dodge could see. “He’s probably looking for these.”
While Dodge burst out laughing, Colt closed the lid on his laptop, then straightened up his blueprints. He placed his pencil neatly next to the stack of folded papers, adjusting it when it was a few degrees off.
Once he was satisfied, he palmed the keys and pushed his chair back.
Any other male approaching his territory with as much rage and adrenaline coursing through him would’ve been met with his beast at his property line. Since it was Wright, he gave the poor cop a pass. He kind of owed him.
Funny that. Before their forced partnership, he owed Wright for totally different reasons. Now—if he was the sort of guy who apologized—he might’ve actually offered him one of those.
With Dodge shadowing him, nearly disappearing in the sunlight, he was so translucent, Colt met Wright on his porch.
Wright stormed up the walkway, just like he had during their first meet. He was as pissed today as he was then, his jaw tight and his face red as he pointed a loaded finger dead at Colt’s chest.
“You stole my car!”
Colt shrugged. “More like borrowed it.”
“Holy shit, Wolfe. I could have you arrested for that. You ever think of that?”
That was all the human could do.
The truth was Colt honestly didn’t give a shit. He’d taken a good, hard look at his situation during a sleepless night and figured that, the way things were going, he was headed to the Cage regardless.
That’s what the Claws Clause was all about. A bonded Para—specifically shifters—without his or her mate was extraordinarily dangerous. After last night, he knew that his bond wasn’t going anywhere. And if Shea didn’t accept it, well… maybe Maddox’s cell was still empty.
Meeting Wright’s eyes with an icy stare of his own, Colt stepped off of his porch, moving slowly until he was directly in front of Wright, and offered up both of his wrists. “Then arrest me.”
