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7
The manwho sat across from me was attractive in a rugged sort of way. His brown hair was cut close to his scalp. The hair on his square chin was longer, but neatly trimmed. Brown eyes, almost the same colour as mine, watched me with cautious interest. He rubbed a scar which spanned the bridge of his nose, between his thumb and forefinger.
"This is an interesting place to meet." His voice was deep, almost raspy.
I sat back and toyed with the glass of apple juice in my hand. "Most people seem to like it." He requested the meeting. I chose the third floor of Crimson, because people were either uncomfortable or distracted here.
I sipped my juice and looked away from a nearby couch, where one man was trying to inhale the cock of another. Both seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves. Good, that was what the place was for.
He shrugged. "I'm more a doer than a watcher. I mean, if you're interested, I'm all for it." His voice was deep, husky.
I ignored his suggestion and the way my pulse raced a little faster. "You wanted to meet me. What do you want?"
"You know who I am?" he asked. He leaned forward to pour himself a glass of juice from the jug on the table.
"I knowwhatyou are," I replied. That should have been enough for me to say no to him stepping foot in Crimson. My curiosity got the better of me.
"And yet, you still agreed to see me. I'm surprised your alpha allowed it." He toasted me with his glass, then took a gulp.
He was so obviously after a reaction, I didn't give him one, except to say, "The Alpha doesn't get to decide who I meet with. What's your name?"
"You can call me Hutton," he replied.
"Hutton what?" I asked.
"Just Hutton," he said simply.
"If you can't even give me that much…" I started to stand.
He exhaled in frustration. "Wait,please. Aaron. Aaron Hutton."
I sat back down. "Your parents were—"
"Felicity and Ray Hutton. They were murdered by Dagen, just like yours." In a moment his face turned from congenial to pent-up rage and back again.
"And yet, you decided to work for Dagen," I said coldly. I had no sympathy for people like him. He wasn't the only white wolf to make that choice. I didn't understand it. I wasn't sure I wanted to.
"I was twelve years old when that asshole murdered my parents." Hutton's tone matched my own. "Me and a couple of other boys were sent to live with Gus Dagen. You've heard of him?"
"Of course I have." I barely contained a shudder. "The Butcher of Onyx Ridge. Even among wolves, he was known for his cruelty. My people fought over who was going to put him down." I don't know who actually did it, or how, except that he got what was coming to him. Or so Jake said. I had no reason not to believe him.
"Yeah. Well, he liked to practice," Hutton said bitterly. "But his favourite thing was watching us practice on each other. Once you get in a certain level over your head, it's hard as fuck to get out again. He had us all convinced we had no choice. When the Uprising took place, I took the hint and got the fuck out of there. Went underground. I figured if Dagen saw me, I was dead. And if anyone from Ivory Claw saw me, I was just as dead. Once labelled a traitor, always a traitor." He shrugged.
"The Uprising?" I asked. "I like that. And you're right, you would have been dead. Everyone back then was very… Pissed off. They tore apart one white wolf who worked for Dagen. I don't think I would have been able to stop them from tearing apart another." Would I have tried? That was a question for back then. There was a whole other set of questions for the present.
"Why now?" I asked. "Any time in the last nine years, you could have stepped forward. But you chose today. Why?"
"I asked myself the same question. Part of me is thinking I should have just stayed hidden. But…" He rubbed the scar on his nose again. "I've heard rumblings. Dagen is trying to get support. Think whatever you want about me and stuff I did in the past, but I'm fucked if I'm gonna sit by and let the black wolves take control again. They won't make the same mistake. They won't let the children live. If they come after the Ivory Claw pack, they'll kill us all this time."
His fingers were white around his glass. I was surprised it didn't shatter in his hand.
"What are you proposing to do about it?" I asked. Clearly he was done with hiding from the world. I could relate to that. There was only a certain amount of time a person could sit by and do nothing before it drove them crazy.
"I want to join you," he said. "Whatever needs to be done, I'll do it. I have a shit load to atone for, and I know it ain't gonna be easy. My people are gonna hate me, but no more than I hate myself."
Just when I thought I couldn't hate the Dagen family more, I did. Hutton was only a few years older than me, but he'd suffered worse than I had. I was treated like a piece of rubbish, but I was never made to kill my own kind. He was right about one thing, itwouldn'tbe easy. The question was, did I need that kind of division in my organisation right now?
If Jake knew I was meeting with Hutton, he would be pissed. That was too bad, I didn't answer to him. Still, some things went beyond little white lies. Meeting a guy like Hutton was one of them, especially somewhere as public as this. I was in no illusion Jake wouldn’t know by the end of the day. I would tell him if someone else didn’t.
