Storming over to the phone, he yanked the received out of the cradle and pressed it to his ear. "Hello?"
"Goddammit, Oakley! I'm going to beat you six ways to Sunday! Get your ass back here!"
Oakley groaned. "How the hell did you find me?"
He could practically hear the eyeroll in Arden's voice. "Our other boyfriend is a cop. Did you really think you could just fuck off out of town and he wouldn't be able to find you?"
"I'm not a criminal."
"You're in danger!"
"I'm fine!"
There was scuffling, and then he could hear additional voices, and to judge by the increase in noise they'd put him on speaker. "You are not fine!" Michi said. "You're being hunted by a murderer! What if he's been following you this whole time?"
"Even I would have noticed if me and the only other car on the highway kept making all the same stops and turns and all," Oakley snapped.
"GPS tracker," Michi snarled back. "He doesn't have to be visible to you in order for you to be visible to him."
Oakley was going to throw up.
"Get your ass back home, you dumbass raccoon."
There was nothing Oakley wanted more, but if the murderer really was tracking him, he was more determined than ever not to lead him right to the doorstep of his lovers. Swallowing every hurt and fear induced by this whole traumatizing mess, Oakley forced out, "No. I'm right where I need to be."
"You need to be home safe and sound!" Arden said, and Oakley flinched at the misery in his voice. "You need to be with us!"
"I'm not getting anyone else killed."
"Oakley…" Michi sighed. "I get it. I do. I'd be tempted to do the exact same thing in your position. We're stronger together, though. Spread out like this, where you're all alone and no one can help you and you can't help us… that puts all of us in far more danger. What if we need help? Or you? We're too far apart to be of any use to each other."
The words made a lot of sense, but Michi was also a cop trained to deal with people like him. Oakley wasn't having it. The killer wanted him. If he wasn't around, there'd be no reason for the bastard to go around killing other people. He had to stick with his job, one way or another, right? So Oakley wasn't going anywhere.
"I'm going somewhere safe," he said. "I promise I'll turn my phone back on and call you once I'm there."
Arden swore, his voice taking on the faintest hint of Australian accent. "You're safest with us! Just stay where you are and we'll come to you. We're getting ready now. Iskander's SUV can handle the weather; we'll get there as quickly as we safely can."
"No!" Oakley said, even as he wondered how Iskander had gotten further involved in this. He must have gone to them or something after Oakley vanished. "I said I wanted you to leave me alone, and I meant it. I'm fine where I'm at, I don't need your help, leave me alone!"
There was a ringing silence, agonizing and painful. It seemed to last years.
It was finally broken by Michi's voice, so cold Oakley almost checked himself for frostbite. "You want to be like that, fine. Goodbye, Oakley."
"No—"
But it was too late; Michi had already hung up.
Tears filled Oakley's eyes and spilled down his cheeks. That wasn't what he'd meant. All he wanted was them, right by his side forever.
He'd known it was too good to be true, and how typical of him to ruin a good thing for himself. This was why he stuck to cupcakes and daydreams.
Sniffling, he packed up all his stuff and hauled it out to the car. When that was done, he checked the car over carefully, looking for anything out of place, but if the killer had put some sort of tracker on it, he wasn't nice enough to ensure it had flashing lights and beeped helpfully.
Well, hope for the best. If it was something he stashed in the engine or whatever, Oakley was definitely screwed. He could fill the gas tank and refill the washer fluid; that was the beginning and end of his knowledge of cars. He could talk at length about buttercream frosting, yeast, and flour, but change the oil in his car? No, that was something he paid other people to do.
Wiping fresh tears from his eyes, he climbed into his car and headed out, going at a snail's pace because of the stupid ice. Hopefully the highways would be better.
It took him thirty minutes and two 360s to reach the highway that was technically only a five minute drive away, but he made it, and someone somewhere must have pitied him because the highway was in much better condition. Whatever they'd treated it with had done the job, and while he had to avoid the odd patch of ice, and there was one heart-stopping slide over black ice, for the most part it was relatively easy going.
He stopped only for gas, and only at large, brightly lit gas stations, preferably busy ones. The only time he stopped longer was at a bustling rest stop, the kind with showers and twenty different restaurants, two gift shops, and entire hordes of people going way or another, all of them eager to get out of their cars for a few minutes.
At that spot, he was able to catch a few hours of sleep without too much fear, though the moment he woke up, got food and used the restroom, he was back on the road and going as fast as the weather permitted.
It seemed to take forever, but eventually his destination was a mere few miles away, and Oakley nearly cried from relief. When he finally saw the entrance to where the pack actually lived, his eyes definitely stung.
God, if this didn't work, he didn't know what he'd do. Cry. Throw himself in the nearest river and see if the water or the cold got him first. Would the killer still get paid? God, he was tired.
He stopped at the gate, where a rather ominous guard stepped out of the guardhouse and approached. "Who are you and why are you here?"
"My name is Oakley Robinson. I'm here because I have information regarding some people actively working to harm the LSF, and it's related to that raccoon that attacked those ducks a while back. I know I sound crazy, but I'm trying to help. Someone is trying to murder me over all of this, and I just want to make sure nobody else gets hurt. I was hoping to speak with Skylar. Anyone, really, he's just the one I know of."
"Well, that's a lot more interesting than 'I got lost,' which is what we usually get," the guard said. "Hold the line, I gotta call this in." He vanished back into the guardhouse. It felt like twenty years passed before he finally came back out. "You're clear. Apparently you made the news or something."
Oakley groaned. "Of course I did. Thank you."
"Go on through, good luck. We'll step up security in case you were followed." The guard gave him directions, and then slipped back into the guardhouse.
There was a loud, echoing, buzzing sound, and then the enormous metal gates swung slowly open. They buzzed again once he was through, but the sound faded rapidly as he drove on through the snow that had started to fall. To judge by the clouds, it was only going to get worse. Given the area, this high up in the mountains, he was probably going to be stuck here for a few days.
Hopefully that meant anyone following him would be equally stuck.
Not that it mattered, really. The killer, if he was out there, would only be impeded temporarily.
As for his lovers… well, they'd rather quickly become his exes. His breath hitched at the pain that thought brought.
A sour laugh slipped out. Lovers. Exes. Did either one apply when their relationship, or whatever it was, hadn't lasted more than a few hours?
Whatever. He could mope about this later. At least he was alive to do so, and they were too.
Sighing, he followed the guard's directions until he came to the enormous lodge made of logs, timber, and rocks. Two wolves were waiting outside, at least he assumed they were wolves; they certainly had that look they all seemed to share, a sort of awareness and presence possessed by all predator shifters.
Parking, Oakley took a slow, deep breath, and then a second and third. When he was as ready as he'd ever be, he climbed out of the car and headed for the lodge and waiting wolves.
"You're Oakley Robinson?"
"Yes. Oakley is fine. I'm sorry to barge in like this. I didn't really know where else to go."
"You came to the right place. The Alpha and others are waiting for you. Mind if we check you for weapons and such?"
"Go ahead."
They frisked him quickly and efficiently, clearly not really expecting any trouble, even if he was a raccoon with knowledge of their mortal enemies.
Inside, every thought fled his head as his eyes landed almost immediately on the man he'd most wanted to meet, a man he'd wanted to meet for ages.
Skylar was of average height, leaning slightly toward short, with ruffled light brown hair and tortoise-shell glasses framing dark gray eyes. He wore a dark blue sweater with thumbholes, and relaxed, worn jeans. He looked like the dad that all the kids at the park fell a little bit in love with, and made all the other parents insecure and envious, but also a little bit in love with him. Wrapped around one of his forearms was a snake that both seemed large and also somehow tiny, like it was a baby for a very large species of snake, maybe. The little thing looked right at home, and only added to that impression Skylar made of the parent every kid dreamed of and every adult dreamed of being or marrying.
Perfect, basically: everything that Oakley would never be, or even have a chance at being.
Beside him was an imposing, handsome wolf, one hand resting protectively at the small of Skylar's back. Brady, Skylar's husband.
Oakley had seen them on the news, in papers and such any number of times. They were completely different in person, more approachable and yet more intimidating all at the same time. Or maybe it was just that he was really tired, really scared, and really depressed.
Standing with them was a man who radiated Alpha, and a smattering of other wolves likely there as protection and advisors.
"My guard phoned with quite the tale," the Alpha said. "So what's this about murder and the LSF?"
Oakley took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice, and haltingly at first, but with increasing speed, he laid out everything that had transpired over the past few days, from the very first murder right up to his leaving town.
By the time he'd finished, he was wrung out and close to crying, which would be utterly humiliating.
"What a tale," the Alpha said. "Those sons of bitches have no limits on what they'll do to achieve their end."
"At least they're predictable, after a fashion," said Brady said. "Though I wish predicting them didn't entail murder."
The Alpha grunted. "Mr. Robinson—Oakley, sorry—I'll have someone take you to where you can get some rest, and I'll have food sent up. Thank you for coming so far, doing so much, after all you've already endured."
"I just want to help," Oakley said, the words coming out only slightly above a whisper. "Thank you for the chance to rest."
"I'll take him," Skylar said, before the Alpha could call for someone. He shifted the snake wrapped around his hand to his throat, where it curled up like an exotic necklace or scarf and went right back to sleep.
Oakley almost squeaked at the words. Skylar? Surely he had much better things to do than show some bedraggled raccoon to a guestroom.
Skylar simply smiled though, and motioned for Oakley to join him. They walked in silence for a couple of minutes, but Oakley wasn't going to waste this chance to speak with someone he admired so much. "I'm sure you hear this all the time, but it's truly an honor to meet you. I had high hopes for my own adoption plans, that I could adopt any child in need, instead of having to wait and hope some poor little raccoon's world would collapse so I could adopt them." His shoulders slumped. "My family came along and ruined my chances completely, but for a while there, you and all you've accomplished gave me real hope. So thank you. I'm sure I'm a broken record, but I do sincerely mean it."
"I could never think anyone sounds like a 'broken record' for saying I give them hope. My life has greatly improved since I found Hansel and Gretel on my land, but I haven't forgotten what lonely and helpless feel like. I am sorry your family is making life so difficult for you—making staying alive so difficult." He grimaced. "I definitely know what it's like to realize there are people in the world who think it would be better for them if you were dead. It's an awful thing to realize, and a worse thing to live with." He tentatively, almost shyly even, gripped Oakley's shoulder. "Don't give up hope just yet, though. Our family so far includes three wolves, and now little Tiana here. There are places all over the country where people are building families even more 'strange.'"
"None of those people are the cousin of murderers trying to bring down the LSF."
"You'd be surprised what they are," Skylar said with a laugh. "Here's your room. We can talk more once you've had food and rest. I hope you're able to get some sleep."
"Thank you. Um. Would it be okay if I turned my phone back on? I'd really like to call my, um, friends. They're mad at me for taking off and probably still worried sick." If they were talking to him at all, which seemed highly unlikely.
"Of course. Alpha Tethers has already stepped up security, and sadly this isn't the first time they've had to worry about a murderer sneaking on to the premises. Trust me, anyone trying to sneak onto wolf land to kill one of their own isn't going to be nearly as successful as they thought or hoped." Skylar patted his shoulder again, and the awkwardness of the gesture was the only hint that he'd grown up feral, likely wasn't quite as used to the touching that so many other shifters took for granted. "Rest up, sleep well, and we'll see you in the morning. If there's anything you need…" Skylar laughed. "Well, this place is like an especially fancy hotel. Just call the front desk, and they'll get it sorted out."
Oakley smiled. "Thank you, I really do appreciate it." He slipped into his room, Skylar went on his way, and Oakley closed the door before sliding down it to simply sit on the floor and let out all the pent up frustration, fear, and misery he'd bottled up for the past many hours.
At least he could rest easy now; he absolutely believed, after all he'd seen so far, that his would-be killer would not find it easy to reach him now.
Wiping his face, he headed further into the room—and stopped short to see that all his belongings were there. He'd been so distracted he hadn't even thought about that. Looked like someone else had.
Opening his duffle, he pulled out what he needed and headed off to get a shower. By the time he was done with that, food had arrived, and he settled at the little table in the corner and dug in with surprising relish. The whole room had a rustic log cabin theme, and even the food seemed to match that: venison stew, homemade bread, and a berry cobbler for dessert, complete with vanilla ice cream too good to be store bought. He should do cobbler-inspired cupcakes, a different one for each season so he could get the best possible fruit. The recipe would require tweaking for each, given the varying moisture levels of peaches, berries, and so on, but he could experiment after closing hours. Arden would be more than happy to—
His misery came crashing back down over him, ruining his appetite for the last few bites of dessert. Pushing it all away, he finally grabbed his phone from where he'd left it on the desk, killed the lights minus the one next to his bed, and crawled beneath the blankets.
Once he was settled, he stared miserably at his phone. He'd promised he'd turn it on once he arrived, but he was exhausted, wrung out physically, mentally, and emotionally. If he turned his phone on, they'd either completely ignore him or call him, and he wasn't sure he had the fortitude for either. Promise or not, he was tempted to wait until he woke up, but the indecision gnawed relentlessly. On the other hand, there was no way he'd sleep when he was still anxious about it, so may as well get it over with.