Chapter Eight

 

 

 

Alli wanted to cry. Really, truly, sit down and bawl. He had never hated Fridays more than he did at this particular moment. When that alarm had gone off and he’d realized what it meant, that the hours had crept past and the day had flipped from Thursday to that last, dreaded day…

Michael was never going to understand. Especially when Alli had left him like that. Hell, the least Alli could have done was stick around, make up for the utter mess that their first time had become. But no, he had to flee and leave the poor man jerking off in a strange bedroom, all by himself.

In the living room, the television screen still flickered, displaying the menu of the movie they’d been watching. It had all started so well, too. The thought of Michael’s lips and hands, the warm press of his body, holding Alli securely against the soft couch…maybe he should… Alli half-turned with the vague notion of going back down the hall, but the door rattled again, this time followed by Chris’ irritated shout.

Alli gave up. It was Friday. He couldn’t win. So he flipped the locks with shaking hands and tried to shove the more dangerous emotions swamping him down. He could take them out later and be depressed all he wanted.

“Hang on,” he yelled when the door shuddered visibly.

Yeah. Nothing broke the mood, at least for Alli, like an ill-timed interruption. Especially on a Friday. He’d known the instant the knock had resonated that it meant trouble. That, more than anything, had deflated his arousal. Just imagining the various disastrous possibilities gave him the chills.

When Alli opened the door to reveal Chris’ grim visage, Alli figured his gloom-and-doom outlook wasn’t far off. Again.

“What happened?” Alli asked with something approaching resignation.

“I need you to come down to Flora,” Chris replied. “Someone broke in and made quite a mess.”

“Come on in,” Alli invited with a sigh. “I’ll go get dressed.”

Alli turned and nearly ran into Michael. The shifter stood there, bare-chested, a scowl on his handsome face.

“This had damn well better be important, Chris,” Michael snapped. He planted his curled fists on his hips. Alli couldn’t help noticing how the pose made the muscles of Michael’s arms bulge, drawing attention to the muscled chest covered in a thick pelt of dark hair.

Oh. Oh, that wasn’t fair. The man shouldn’t look so good, it played merry hell with Alli’s resolve and focus.

“Focus, Alli!” Chris snapped, echoing Alli’s thoughts so well that, for a minute, he wondered if he’d been talking aloud again. “Get dressed and let’s go. Mark is waiting on us. I couldn’t find the damn sheriff, as usual, so I need to get back there and supervise before Barry shows up and steps in something important.”

Small-town life. Alli wondered sometimes why he hadn’t just stayed in New York and gotten lost among the crowds.

“Yeah,” Alli muttered. “Going.”

Michael, with one last dark glare at Chris, trailed behind Alli down the hallway and back to the bedroom. The lights were blazing, covers tossed halfway to the floor. Alli quickly averted his gaze, not wanting to look at the bed. The scene of his latest disaster.

“Want to tell me what’s going on?” Michael demanded. He yanked aside the bedspread, stuck his head under the mattress.

“What are you doing?” Alli asked.

“Looking for the rest of my clothes.”

“You don’t have to come.”

“I’d argue with that, but since I don’t know where you’re going yet, that’s a bit hard.”

“Oh. Sorry. The store. Chris says there was a break-in.”

“Then you bet your sweet little ass I’m coming,” Michael announced.

Alli finally found his shirt, halfway behind the dresser. Then the hunt for his shoes began. He’d never taken off his socks, so at least those were easy to find.

“You don’t have to come,” Alli protested. Why, he wasn’t sure, because for some strange reason he kind of wanted Michael there.

“Alli, you really don’t want to push me right now. I’m coming. Deal with it.”

Alli clamped his mouth shut and decided that, in this particular case, it was probably better if he just gave in gracefully. Michael was cranky, not a usual state of affairs for the shifter. And Alli was still feeling guilty. He wanted his annoyingly cheerful and positive bear back.

Chris was pacing the front hall when they returned. “It’s about time,” he declared.

Chris had driven his patrol vehicle, a massive modified SUV. Alli didn’t protest when Michael opened the back door for him, just climbed in and stared glumly at the screen divider. It took less than three minutes to drive the short distance to Flora. Michael must have looked back at least a dozen times. With each peek, the harsh lines on his face faded a bit until he began to look more like the man Alli was getting to know so well.

The area around Flora blazed with light, nearly as bright as day. Alli blinked.

“Why are there spotlights set up in the street?” he asked blankly.

“Barry,” Chris replied dryly.

“He’s certainly enthusiastic,” Michael remarked.

“Damn kid’s a menace.” Despite the harsh words, Chris’ tone held a touch of affection. In Alli’s experience, most people around town regarded their youngest deputy with amused tolerance. The kid meant well. He just tended to get excited and go a bit overboard.

From the outside the store looked like it always did, apart from the stadium lighting making Alli’s eyes water. Inside was a different story. Alli stopped in the doorway and stared in dismay at the destruction. Michael cupped Alli’s shoulders and squeezed. Some of the tightness forming in Alli’s chest eased, Michael’s solid presence at his back comforting. For once, Alli wasn’t facing one of his disasters alone. It was an amazing feeling, one Alli could quite quickly grow addicted to.

“Let’s look around,” Michael urged gently. “See if anything is missing.”

Alli stepped into the room, swept his gaze around blankly. “I really don’t know,” he said in a subdued voice. “It will take hours to sort through everything.”

The room looked like a natural disaster zone. Every single table had been toppled, dirt and pots, decorative items and torn plants, all scattered from one wall to the next. Alli had had a small sitting area set up in one corner and the fluffy chairs had been slashed apart, the red fabric shredded, stuffing hanging in large clumps like piles of soft snow.

Mark came out of the back room, stepping over a river of colorful flowers spilling across one of Alli’s carefully chosen rugs. The deputy was making notations in a notebook, tongue poking out between his lips as he concentrated.

“What have you found so far?” Chris asked.

Mark looked up, startled. “Oh. Didn’t know you were back. Well, whoever it was, they worked fast. The alarm went off at exactly midnight. That’s when the alarm company alerted you. I got here at approximately twelve-ten.”

“They might have set the alarm off on the way out and not the way in,” Chris said.

“Possible. But I doubt it. Have you seen the state of this back door?”

“Not yet, no.”

“Right. Sorry.” Mark blushed a bit at Chris’ chiding tone.

“How did you get to Alli’s place so quickly?” Michael asked.

“I always do a drive-by a couple times on Friday mornings,” Chris said. “I got the call from dispatch and was only a few blocks away.”

“Why do you—?”

“Later,” Alli interrupted. “I’ll tell you later.”

Michael looked like he wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Alli was grateful for that. He knew he’d have to confess everything to Michael, sooner rather than later, but he didn’t want to do it right at this minute, and especially not with an audience.

Chris took his duties very seriously and worked diligently to ensure he kept his citizens safe. Some citizens just required more work than others. Alli wouldn’t complain, as Chris’ vigilant eye had saved his hide on more than one occasion.

Alli nearly whimpered at the destruction around him. He paused to pick up a poor, battered stuffed dog, wanting to cry when water streamed off it. The intruder had shoved over the water cooler and it had formed a lake right in the middle of the display section containing balloons and stuffed animals. Alli loved putting together pretty plant gift baskets for gifts and get-well presents.

“No,” he suddenly yelled, taking off at a dead run, dodging shattered pots and ripped leaves. He stopped in the doorway to the greenhouse, grabbing the frame to halt his momentum. His low sob echoed across the room.

Michael was behind Alli in an instant, but Alli couldn’t take any comfort. All he could do was stare in utter horror at his beloved sanctuary.

Gone. All gone. Ripped and shredded and overturned and…

“Shh,” Michael whispered. “Plants are resilient. It won’t be as bad as it looks, promise.”

“You can’t know that,” Alli said.

“Sure I can.” Michael rubbed Alli’s arm, gave him an encouraging smile. “Let’s go look at the rest of it, baby,” he said softly. “We’ll worry about clean-up later.”

“They didn’t seem to be searching for anything, just wanted to create random destruction,” Mark continued. “And I hate to say anything without proof, but those chairs? Yeah, I don’t think that was done with a knife.”

Chris made a beeline for the nearest chair and bent over, fingering a jagged rip. “I think you’re right,” he agreed. “Looks like claws to me.”

“Claws?” Alli squeaked.

“Well, that helps narrow it down,” Michael declared.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Chris ran a finger down one of the tears again. “But it gives us a starting place. Mark, you can call some of the shifters tomorrow. I’ll check in with Lucas, see if he thinks it might be one of the werewolves.”

“Doubtful,” Mark replied with a shake of his head. “They don’t come to town very often.”

Chris shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt to check. Anyway, they’re the two species with the most prominent claws.”

“If we start suspecting everyone with claws,” Mark pointed out, “the list is going to get long.”

“I know.”

With that somewhat disheartening response, Chris followed Mark into the storage room. Barry was there, snapping pictures frantically, the flash creating a strobe-light effect on the cinderblock walls. He turned at the wrong moment and the camera went off right in Chris’ face.

“Damn it, Barry,” Chris bellowed, blinking rapidly. Alli wanted to laugh but was afraid there would be something of a hysterical edge to it, so he held back.

“Sorry, boss,” Barry yelped, nearly dropping the camera as he jumped.

“Honest to God, boy.” Chris didn’t finish the thought, shaking his head instead.

“Holy shit.”

Michael’s exclamation drew Alli’s attention to the far wall. The back door had been nearly ripped off its hinges, hanging to one side in a hunk of twisted metal. It had taken something strong, with a lot of rage, to pull that move off. But that wasn’t what Michael was staring at. No, his horrified gaze was fixed on the wall.

The red letters still dripped fresh paint—at least, Alli hoped to God it was paint—smearing trails down the wall and puddling on the floor.

 

Go home, fag.

 

“I hope you’re going to do something about this, Chris,” Michael said grimly.

“You’re damn right I am,” Chris growled back. “No one comes into this town and threatens one of my people. No one.”

Alli stared in utter shock at the words written with such venom on his wall. Who…why…how? Until Michael had arrived, no one had known his preferences. No one.

Well, maybe Chris. But Alli really, really doubted that Chris was responsible for this. Alli had never seen the deputy so furious. His eyes were hard, jaw clenched, his hands fisting and releasing. Not to mention the line that sounded like something from a bad movie.

“All right,” Chris suddenly barked. “Barry, you get enough pictures?”

“Yes, sir.”

Alli half-expected Barry to salute.

“Good. Get them developed, stat. And Barry?”

Barry froze mid-step.

“Don’t take them to the drugstore this time, huh?”

Mark snorted. He suddenly found a speck in the corner fascinating when Chris turned his steely glare on him.

“This one gets done by the books, boys,” Chris ordered. “When this guy is caught, I don’t want anything screwing it up.”

“You’ve got it, boss.”

Chris suddenly sighed. He rubbed his hand over his face, looking weary as he studied the destruction around him. “I guess I’ll have to call the sheriff. He needs to know someone’s making trouble.”

“Wait. Sheriff?” Michael shook his head in confusion. “I thought you were the sheriff.”

“No, unfortunately. The good sheriff, however, prefers to spend his time doing God only knows what. I haven’t seen the man in going on near two weeks. He calls in every few days, so I know he isn’t dead. He’d just rather let me do all the work.”

“You do a good job, too,” Mark declared. The staunch support of his coworker seemed to have penetrated the hard shell Chris had donned and the man quirked a tiny grin.

“Thanks,” he replied dryly. “Just wish it were a bit easier. And paid better.”

Alli patted Chris’ shoulder and wandered past. The drawers of his desk were hanging open and he reached over to check them.

“Don’t touch, Alli!”

Alli jerked backward at the snapped order.

“Sorry, sorry.”

Chris shook his head. “It’s okay. Let us record everything first, huh? Then you can check and see if there’s anything missing.”

They spent the next two hours wading through the mess. Mark’s pencil flew across his yellow legal pad as he took notes frantically. Chris kept muttering curses as he poked through destroyed items and smashed furniture.

The entire time, Michael hovered behind Alli. The bear shifter never got farther than a few feet away.

Alli was grateful. Extremely. For the first time in years, Alli wasn’t facing disaster and heartache by himself. There was someone to lend him strength, someone to catch his elbow and steady him when he tripped, someone to hug him when the despair threatened to overwhelm him.

It hurt, looking around Flora. For so long, the store had been all Alli had. It wasn’t the financial loss that made such an impact—Alli didn’t need the money. The store was more to give him something to do than a source of income. But it was his home, more so than the house a few blocks away. These plants and flowers were his friends, his comfort. Seeing the pure hate, the way his sanctuary had been invaded—it hurt deeply.

Alli bit his lip, staring blindly at a clumped-up mess on the floor, unable to process the implications. He didn’t know what to think, where to start…

“Come on, baby,” Michael murmured. “I think you’ve had enough. Let’s get you home. We can finish this later.”

Chris heard the words and looked over. He nodded his agreement.

“I’ll drive you.” Chris kept his voice low, seemingly aware that Alli was about to break. “Mark, keep at it, huh? Call me if you find anything else.”

“Sure thing.” Mark gave Alli an encouraging smile as the two men escorted him from the store.

This time, Michael didn’t put Alli in the back of the car. Chris didn’t say anything when they both climbed in the front seat, Michael pulling Alli close until he was practically on Michael’s lap.

Outside, the sun hadn’t even come up. Alli caught a glimpse of the clock on the dashboard. Great Heavens, he had an entire Friday to get through yet. Alli wasn’t sure he was going to be able to make it. He just wanted to go to bed, curl up and pull the covers over his head.

He didn’t get his wish. Pulling to a stop in front of Alli’s house, Chris cut the engine and followed them inside. When he motioned for Alli and Michael to sit, planting his own butt in a chair facing them, Alli groaned aloud.

Let the interrogation begin.

“So, who around town hates you this much?”

Alli bit his lip, cheeks heating with a mixture of embarrassment and shame. “Do you want the whole list?” he asked sadly.

“Hush, baby,” Michael soothed. “I think you have more friends than you realize.”

Chris sighed. “Sorry, Alli. He’s right, you know. Just look at Mark and Barry. Sascha. Lucas.”

“I can’t tell you how many people waylaid me when I started to show interest in you,” Michael revealed. “They all wanted to look out for you.”

“Maybe, but I also have a lot of people who want to string me up by my toes,” Alli pointed out.

“Why don’t you start at the top,” Michael encouraged. He wrapped his arm around Alli’s shoulders. Alli couldn’t help snuggling closer, soaking up the comfort being offered.

“Well, there’s Miss Patti.”

“True.”

Even Chris couldn’t deny that one. Miss Patti thought Alli was the devil’s spawn, ever since that incident with Pookums. Alli had been walking by, Pookums’ leash had broken and, well, the car hadn’t killed the insufferable fluffy creature but it had come darn close. All the witnesses swore it was an accident, a freak occurrence. Alli knew better—it had, after all, been a Friday. Miss Patti gave him the evil eye any time they crossed paths. Alli didn’t protest because while most people thought she was just being a cranky old woman and overreacting, he knew better.

“Lester,” Alli continued with his list.

“Wasn’t your fault the man got struck by lightning.”

“Sort of was,” Alli argued. “I was the one holding the pole.”

“I’m not even going to ask,” Michael said.

“Probably best,” Chris concurred. “But it was an impressive light display, I’ll say that.”

A Friday. Again.

“Constance.”

Chris winced. “Yeah, she probably wouldn’t mind if you vanished.”

“No kidding.”

And he still felt guilty about that one. It had taken weeks for the poor woman’s eyebrows to grow back. He still didn’t know what had made the pan burst into fire like that—the stove hadn’t even been on. After that incident, Sascha had banned Alli from his kitchen. It was probably a wise move. Far too much that could cause destruction in a kitchen.

“Molly, Mason, Mr. Pritchard, Carter, Carter’s dog—”

“Enough,” Michael interrupted, giving Alli a little squeeze.

“Michael’s right.” Chris reached over and patted Alli’s knee in sympathy. “While there might be a few people around who don’t like you, most of them are harmless. They settle for glares, evil eyes, and warding signs.”

Oh, yeah. He’d forgotten about the local coven. He hadn’t meant to screw up their ritual. Honestly.

That incident had almost sent him running back home, banishment be damned. No matter how accidental, setting loose a demon was never a good thing. Well, not a chaos demon, anyway. Luckily, there had been a Hunter not far away who’d been able to take care of the thing. Alli had never found out what the coven had actually been trying to summon. He just knew it wasn’t what they’d gotten.

Witches could hold a grudge really, really well.

“I feel I should point to the warning again, anyway,” Michael said. “While it sounds like you’ve got a few enemies, most of them have specific reasons for disliking you.”

“Right.” Chris nodded. “And most of those reasons have absolutely nothing to do with your lack of interest in women.”

“What about that guy at Emmaline’s?” Michael asked.

“Who?” Alli scrunched his nose, trying to remember that day.

“You know, the guy. The one with the big scowl who kept staring at us together.”

It took Alli a moment, but he finally dredged up an image of a big, ugly guy who’d looked like he’d had indigestion. “Him? Dang. How did you even remember that? That was, like, forever ago.”

Michael shrugged, flushing. “I didn’t like how he looked at you. Bruce felt he was a threat.”

“Good enough for me,” Chris declared. “I’ll see if anyone else noticed him. It’s a start, anyway.”

“What, just like that?” Alli asked.

“Not like I have much else to go on.”

Chris slapped Michael on the shoulder and ruffled Alli’s hair. Alli glared, so not in the mood for the deputy’s antics at the moment.

“I’ve got work to do,” Chris said. “In the meantime, I’m expecting you to look after our little florist.”

Chris said the last with a stern glare at Michael. Michael nodded back soberly.

“You can count on it. No one’s getting anywhere near Alli.” A low growl rumbled through Michael, deep and menacing, powerful enough to send ripples up Alli’s spine. Good ripples. Damn, but that sound shouldn’t be so hot.

Chris left soon after. A silence fell over the room, heavy and thick. Alli hated how awkward it felt but didn’t know how to fix it.

“Who’s Bruce?” he finally asked.

“My bear side.”

“You named your animal half?”

“Yeah.”

“Bruce?”

Alli tried to hold back the giggles, but it just came out sounding like he was choking on something. Or maybe swallowed a really sticky piece of food that was restricting his breathing. Either way, it was a very weird sound.

Alli quickly lost the battle and the strange sound morphed into laughter. The deep belly, tear-inducing kind. And if it had a touch of hysteria to it? Well, Alli figured he could be forgiven.

“It’s not that funny,” Michael muttered.

“You named your shifter half,” Alli said again.

Michael shrugged. “It’s me, but not really. Besides, it’s not that weird. Most of my family does it.”

“Hate to break it to you, but your family sounds to me like a very strange bunch.”

Michael didn’t argue that one.

“I suppose it does make a bit of sense,” Alli mused, pursing his lips. “But Bruce?”

He started laughing again. Michael crossed his arms over his chest and glared. “What’s wrong with Bruce?”

“Nothing,” Alli assured him. “Absolutely nothing.”

Since Alli was still laughing, he didn’t think Michael bought it.

“Batman’s real name was Bruce,” Michael argued. “It’s a good name.”

“Never said it wasn’t.”

“Then stop laughing.”

“I can’t.”

Michael’s lips twitched.

Seconds later he was howling right along with Alli. It wasn’t long before they both collapsed together on the couch, their legs entwined, Alli pressing up against Michael.

“Mmm, I like this,” Michael said quietly.

“Like what?”

“Cuddling. Piles.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Must be a shifter thing. My brothers and I used to sleep in one giant heap growing up. Mom gave up in grade school trying to keep us in separate rooms. Dad was pretty philosophical about it, although he did mention that it tended to be more of a wolf thing.”

Alli hummed absently at the story, not quite sure what the sound meant. Michael ran his fingers though Alli’s loose hair, gently working out the snarls. The mood eased, turning more serious. Alli soaked up the comfort eagerly.

“How are you holding up?” Michael finally asked gently.

Alli shook his head, eyes on the floor by his feet. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I think it’s still kind of surreal.”

“I suppose it is. Come on, why don’t we try to get some sleep?”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” Alli protested. “I have to open the store at—”

“Baby, there’s no way you’ll be able to open Flora today,” Michael admonished. “That mess is going to take days to clean up. The insurance company will want to send someone out to take a look. Not to mention reordering stock, putting displays back together, repotting…”

Michael cut himself off, obviously reading the distress on Alli’s face. Michael sighed and stood, grabbing Alli’s hands and pulling him to his feet.

“Come on, bed.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.” Alli protested some more but still let Michael lead him down the hall.

“You should at least try.”

Weariness suddenly swamped Alli, not physical but mental. A vision of the store flashed into his head. He knew a lot of people didn’t like him, he’d long ago accepted that. Not like it was anything new. But that someone could hate him that much…

“Shh, Alli,” Michael crooned. “Stop thinking. Just come and lie down with me.”

“With you?” Alli asked hopefully. “You’ll stay?”

“Until this bastard is caught, I’m your new shadow,” Michael said with a little grin. Alli latched onto that small sign of his Michael with a tight grip. He didn’t like this new, serious, hard version of his almost-lover. Alli wanted his playful, teasing Michael back.

“I guess I could.” Alli gave in, careful to hide how much the idea appealed to him. As much as Alli cared for Michael, he wasn’t quite ready to give the man that much power over him.

“Good. Hungry?”

Alli shook his head. He noticed for the first time that Michael had stripped down to the waist. Alli obediently held out his arms while Michael pulled Alli’s shirt over his head. He had thought about fighting Michael, but it seemed to ease the bear, taking care of Alli.

Minutes later, Alli found himself swathed in covers, tucked up tightly next to Michael. Alli wasn’t sleepy—his mind was racing too much—but he had to admit, it felt marvelous, letting his bear comfort him.

Michael stroked Alli’s forehead with one hand, brushing the hair aside, back and forth in a gentle, soothing rhythm. Alli let his head fall deeper against Michael’s shoulder. Michael’s other arm tightened around Alli.

Alli would have said it was impossible, but his eyes slowly grew heavy and he eventually drifted off into a restless sleep, held close and safe.