Prickly By Nature (18 page)

Luc. Of course. Dylan was at his shop. It was the middle of the damn day. Avery knew he should feel guilty about Dylan leaving work to come pick him up, but with his brain in utter turmoil, he would be lucky to make it home on his own. Chaos, Dylan had said. That really was the only way to describe Avery’s state of mind right then.

When Dylan pulled up on his Softail, Avery accepted the helmet from him and numbly put it on. The next thing he knew he was sitting on the couch in his den with Dylan wrapped around him, and he had no real recollection of getting there. Truly, it amazed him he hadn’t stress-shifted after leaving Capri. Some small part of his consciousness must’ve clung to awareness about his public surroundings in the midst of his freak-out—or whatever the hell it was.

“Is it my fault?” he asked Dylan once his thoughts had settled. With the return of order, he could finally think beyond his panic. “She said it looked like he killed himself. The girl at the restaurant.”

How coincidental was it that Joel had supposedly committed suicide the very day they planned to meet? Avery didn’t know the guy, but Joel had seemed calm during their exchanges the day before. Had he panicked for some reason? Perhaps he was more involved in the trafficking ring than he’d let on. Maybe he’d become overrun by guilt at the thought of confessing to Avery.

But… what if he hadn’t done it willingly? What if someone had found out he planned to talk to Avery? What if he’d been forced to swallow those pills Emily mentioned? What if they would be coming after Avery next? After Dylan?

“I’m in over my head,” he said before Dylan could answer. “What if I got Joel killed by pressuring him to talk to me?” A tremor overtook him, and he looked up at Dylan, wide-eyed and shaking. “How can I live with that?”

Dylan made a shushing sound and stroked his hair. “You didn’t get anyone killed. If he committed suicide, that was his choice.”

Avery swallowed hard. “But what if—”

“No ‘buts.’ You didn’t force his hand, Avery.”

Avery shook his head. “And what if he didn’t kill himself? What if someone hurt him because he was going to talk to me? Someone might’ve been spying on him. They could’ve read all our e-mails, known we planned to talk today.”

Dylan was quiet for a long moment. “I think you should call Ribeiro.”

Avery blinked at him. “But… but he said that—”

Dylan held up his free hand. “I know what he said. But look, if this is ruled a suicide, Ribeiro might never catch wind of it. It probably won’t even be investigated if there’s no reason for the cops to be suspicious. Not unless you tell someone what you know. And if the cops check his computer for some reason, if they see those e-mails? They might be coming around to ask questions anyway. Better to give Ribeiro a heads-up.”

Avery wet his dry lips, his breath stuttering. “And if he charges me with obstruction of justice like he threatened?”

“I’m not going to let that happen.” Dylan drew Avery closer to his side. “We’ll tell him we have information to share, but we want to set terms first. We make him promise you won’t be charged. If he wants to push for Joel’s suicide to be investigated, I’m sure he’ll figure out a way.”

Avery took a few minutes to consider Dylan’s words. No matter how he spun the situation in his head, he knew his mate was right. Ribeiro was with the Police Bureau and higher up the hierarchy than Wallace. Plus, he was pack. There probably wasn’t anyone else better positioned to help them. Whether or not he could be trusted remained to be seen, but Avery had few options left. More like zero options, truth be told. Ribeiro was his best bet of finding out the truth about Joel’s apparent suicide.

“I’ll call him. Right now.” Avery didn’t have Ribeiro’s direct line—the detective hadn’t given him a business card—but he did have the direct number to the precinct.

Before he could chicken out, he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed. When the line was picked up, he took a studying breath. “Can you connect me to Detective Heath Ribeiro?” he asked the woman who answered. “He’s on the Human Trafficking Task Force. Tell him it’s Avery Babineaux. He’ll want to take this call.”

WALKING OUT
the door that morning had been the hardest thing Dylan had done in a long time, but Avery insisted he was fine. The need to call and check on him gnawed at Dylan until he rolled into the lot of Green’s and his phone was already vibrating in his pocket.

Dylan had his key back in the ignition and his hand on his helmet. “Avery,” he answered more gruffly than he intended. “What’s wrong? Do I need to come get you? Where are you?”

Avery’s giggle had him relaxing some. “Down boy. I was….” He sighed. “I just wanted to see if you made it to work okay and to hear your voice. Waiting for noon is going to be a bitch.”

The corner of Dylan’s mouth hitched at Avery’s not-quite whine. Once Detective Ribeiro had gotten on the line the night before, it hadn’t taken them long to set up a meeting. Even though it was obviously longer than Avery wanted to wait. Dylan still smiled with the memory of Avery cursing detectives and the detective things they had to do on detective schedules—as if the word
detective
were the vilest thing he could think. Or at the very least the stupidest.

He slung his leg over his bike and strode toward his shop. “It’s only a few hours, Av.”

“But what if something goes wrong? What if he doesn’t show—”

“Hey,” Dylan cut him off. “He’s going to show. We’re going to work this out.” He glanced from the bay he’d just unlocked back to his bike. “Look, do you want to come here? I’m sure Reid would understand. You could hang out with the guys until it’s time to meet with Ribeiro.”

He was quiet for a moment, then said, “It’s probably better that I’m here. Reid needs me to do some computer work he’s useless at getting done.”

“Keep talking, kid,” Dylan heard Reid chirp in the background. “I’ll send you to the library and have you digging through microfiche so fast your big wolf won’t see you for a month.”

“See what I mean?” Avery laughed. “The guy needs all the help he can get. He thinks all that shit’s not scanned into computers these days.”

A loud
thunk
sounded on the other end of the line, then Avery yelled, “Hey!”

Dylan chuckled.

That’s how the rest of the morning went. Every hour, just about on the hour, Avery called to check on Dylan, he’d say. Dylan knew it was more for his mate’s peace of mind. Whether to simply hear his voice, or have an auditory reminder that he was there and solid, or whether it was for Dylan to talk him out of his doubts, Dylan didn’t know and it didn’t matter. He would always be there for Avery. However Avery needed.

If he was being honest, he was a little worried about the meeting too, but not for the same reasons. He was worried more so for his mate. How Avery would handle everything after Ribeiro had the ball in his court. It was a lot of trust they were putting into a detective they didn’t know. Dylan hoped Ribeiro didn’t let them down. For Avery’s sake.

A yawn cracked his jaw open as he stared down at the pasty white fairings and tank he’d stripped from a customer’s Honda CBR600RR. The customer wanted purple and pink flames on a black pearl base. It would be pretty, but Dylan wasn’t in the mood for painting today. He was still exhausted and unsettled from what had happened with Avery the day before. He couldn’t help but think there was more to come and hope he was wrong.

Glancing out the window of his paint room, he smiled when Lucas threw his head back and laughed at something Sawyer said. Even though the sound was muffled, it was good to hear. Lucas had smiled easier since they’d returned from Louisiana, and maybe it was strained at times, but it was there nonetheless. While Dylan wanted to know what had happened to turn things around for his friend, Dylan had bigger problems. He would find out when things calmed down with Avery. That was for sure.

From that same window, Dylan saw his dad and another pack beta, Russell Metz, enter the shop through the open bay door. Foregoing his current project—he was ahead of schedule as it was—Dylan exited the paint room and met Lawrence and Russell at the center of the open floor.

“Dylan,” Law said in his usual emotionless, short tone.

Dylan simply nodded, holding his father’s gaze. Law’s lip curled in disgust, but he didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t. Not anymore. Dylan was the stronger wolf, had been since he’d reached his teenage years. It’s why his father hadn’t pushed him or challenged him in any way since he was a teenager. Once Dylan’s wolf came into his own, Lawrence had to know he’d have no chance against his son. Instead, he used his power as pack beta and his power over Dylan’s mother to bully and try to intimidate Dylan and his friends.

Russell gave Dylan a slap on the shoulder, bringing Dylan’s attention to him. His smile was bright and jovial, but sly and smarmy at the same time. Dylan didn’t like it. “Dylan,” he chortled. “How have you been?”

“Good, sir,” Dylan answered and eyed Lawrence as he walked around them and over to where Lucas stood with Sawyer and Kirk.

“Good, good. How are things going around here? I hear business is good.”

“Steady. Can’t complain,” Dylan replied, casually turning to his work station and grabbing a bottle of water. A sense of awkwardness prickled over his skin. He couldn’t figure out why his dad and another beta would just show up out of the blue, but he was sure their intentions couldn’t be on the level. Lawrence’s weren’t at any cost.

Russell let out a hearty laugh. “I’ll bet you can’t.” Then he leaned over Dylan’s work table, like they were the best of friends. “How’s that mate of yours? Liking the PI work? From what I hear, he’s missed around town. He had quite a reputation of going above and beyond when he was working for the pack.”

“He’s good. Likes his job, but misses his deliveries for sure.” If he’d been shifted, Dylan’s scruff would’ve been standing up. Why was Russell so interested in Avery? Dylan was suddenly hyperaware of the keen look Russell was giving him and that his father was watching them from the corner of the room. They were searching for something, but Dylan wasn’t certain what.

Russell, by all accounts, was a good beta. He’d been a member of Odell’s circle for almost as long as Law. Dylan didn’t have anything against Russell, but for as long as he’d been around the man, he didn’t really know him. He wasn’t sure if anyone did. The thing was, with all the questions, Dylan didn’t know where the other beta stood. The way he held himself, as if he was Dylan’s best pal, and how he tried to put Dylan at ease with his playful smile—it was all a bit over the top. Plus, Russell was a beta of the Portland Pack and if push came to shove, he would likely side with Odell and Law. That was enough for Dylan to be cautious with the things he held close enough to the vest to matter.

“That’s nice.” Russell’s friendly smile didn’t quite meet his eyes and when Law walked up and muttered something about getting out of Dodge, Dylan never thought he’d feel so relieved to see his father leave. With a nod, Russell said, “Great to see you again, Dylan. Tell that mate of yours I said hello.” With a wink, he turned and left.

After they’d left the bay doors, Dylan stood there staring.

“What was that about?” Lucas asked, stepping up to his side.

“Hell if I know, but watch your ass. I don’t trust them.”

“You and me both, D. You and me both.”

Too confused by the sudden appearance and departure of the betas, Dylan didn’t question Lucas’s turnaround. He’d worry about that tomorrow.

One thing at a time.

AVERY WAS
pacing the living room when Dylan walked in.

“You’re wearing a hole in the floor, and then what’ll we do?” Dylan tossed his keys on the table and turned to his mate, who was already hurrying over to him. Avery wrapped his arms around Dylan’s waist and burrowed his face into Dylan’s chest.

“He’s gonna be late,” Avery mumbled into his shoulder. “A meeting or something came up. It could be an hour or two.”

Dylan could see the problem. Avery was worried enough as it was, frazzled. Having to wait only added a mountain of doubt onto Avery’s already wavering hope. “Come on.” Dylan pulled him over to the sofa. “Talk to me for a little bit.” They sat, Avery curled into Dylan’s side, his head tucked under Dylan’s chin. “How was your day?”

“Shitty,” he whispered. He sighed, burrowing closer, like he couldn’t get near enough. Dylan tightened his hold on him. “I don’t want to talk about my day.”

Snorting, Dylan said, “Sure, okay. What do you want to talk about?”

“How was your day?”

With a snort, Dylan hesitated to tell him about Law and Russell showing up, but he did. He also told him about the conversation with Russell. “I don’t know what they’re up to, babe, but I need you to be careful out there.”

Avery nodded, the motion moving Dylan’s head as well. “I will. I’ve got Reid to watch my back too, okay?”

He wished that was enough, but somehow he doubted it.

“It’s good about Luc,” Avery continued when Dylan didn’t say anything else. “Maybe he’s coming around. He seemed… different in New Orleans. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but something changed.”

“Maybe so. Don’t know if I could have handled much more of his pouty ass.”

Avery snorted. “He’s your friend. Your
best
friend. You’d do just about anything for him. Maybe he just needed time for whatever. Good to know he’s not always that perfect.”

Dylan laughed. “Maybe.”

Nothing more was said after that. Not for a while. Dylan held Avery, attempting to rub the tension from his back. It was a lost cause. He didn’t know how much time had passed when Avery finally spoke again.

“Dylan?”

“Yeah?”

“What if he doesn’t believe me? What if he’s just like Melnyk and Harris and he tells me to butt out again? What if he’s dirty just like they were?”

“That’s a lot of ‘what if,’ Avery.”

Avery sat up and looked Dylan in his eyes, those hazel eyes shiny. “Do you think we can trust him?”

“I think we have to at least give it a shot, don’t you?”