Garret's Dilemma Page 3

  Except when Brandon started running on the road, he didn’t see the truck coming up behind him. Garret shouted, began running toward Brandon, but he was too slow and too late. The other wolves kept on saying it hadn’t been Garret’s fault. Unless Garret could see the future, Brandon’s death was simply an unlucky accident. Werewolves weren’t all powerful or invincible, but it was a shitty way to go.

  Thinking of Brandon didn’t help Garret’s foul mood. Just great. All Garret wanted was to enjoy a quiet evening, thinking about nothing.

  “Fine. If you’re not going to eat me, then can you help me?” Bo demanded.

  Good God, this human didn’t know when to stop.

  “Help you? I’ve already done enough. You heard those howls just now? Those were my chums. They found out I helped an outsider, what would they think?” Garret had a hundred other things to say, except Bo swayed on his feet. He easily caught the human, who weighed practically nothing in Garret’s arms.

  “I—” Bo mumbled. Garret saw how Bo did his best to fight his consciousness. Truth be told, it was kind of impressive.

  “It’s okay. You’re an ass, but I’ll help you. You’re safe now, Bo,” Garret murmured, tucking the human against his shoulder.

  “Hmm. Okay. Just don’t eat me,” Bo mumbled, before closing his eyes.

  Certain Bo was still breathing Garret easily scooped him up in his arms. Seconds later, two wolves appeared on his property. The large brown one with the slightly notched ear Garret easily recognized as Declan. The slighter smaller beast with the patchy coat was Declan’s best friend Harley.

  Harley, Garret easily got along with, but Declan always seemed to have a bone to pick with Garret. Declan was Brandon’s older brother, and he still blamed Garret for Brandon’s death, even though five years had passed.

  Both wolves paused, seeing Bo in Garret’s arms. Then they shifted. Declan, being the more powerful and dominant pair, finished first.

  “What the heck are you carrying, Garret? Is that the reason why a rogue bear shifter is sniffing around your property?” Declan eyed Bo’s battered and bleeding figure in his arms, before giving Garret an expected look that screamed “explain now or I’ll tell the alpha.”

  Garret realized he had two options. He could either tell his pack mates the truth, or lie to their faces. Everyone in the pack knew how badly he valued privacy, and how Garret usually had a low tolerance for lost travelers who happened to find his area of the woods. If Bo had been a normal human camping in the woods, the pack wouldn’t care less about his presence, but Bo came with trouble in the form of his psycho ex-lover.

  If Garret told the truth, then Bo would be in trouble. Bo would have to face the rest of the Darkfall Mountain Pack. Maybe even stand on trial, even if his ex had been the troublemaker. Humans who broke their laws and who were deemed guilty, had two options. They could either face death, or the live out the rest of their lives serving he pack as pets. Most picked the latter option, and all of them came to regret their choices because a being a Darkfall wolf’s pet was the equivalent to being free-for-all pack cock or pussy.

  Garret knew the pack held onto their rules seriously.

  They were wary of outsiders for a good reason. Before the supernatural world’s existence had been revealed to the public, the shifters in the area had been hunted down like animals.

  They only had these rules in place because they wanted to protect their own and assert their dominance, but that was all in the past. Those rules needed to be re-examined and changed, because the world had moved on since then. Too bad, Garret had no say in pack politics because he chose to live on the fringe. Garret thought he was done with all that, until Bo came along.

  Damn. Brandon always told Garret despite his appearance, he had a soft heart underneath. Maybe, Brandon was right.

  “Garret, is that human something to you?” Harley asked, the more rational of the two.

  Garret was still considering how to explain, but Declan made a stupid move. He edged toward Garret and took a sniff at Bo. Declan grabbed Bo’s wrist. Garret bared his teeth, and shoved Declan backward with a snarl.

  “Mine. Touch him again without my permission and I’ll rip you a new one.” Garret glowered at Declan.

  Declan let out a hiss, his pupils alternating between human blue and wolf yellow. Garret didn’t like his sneer. “What? Is that human your new toy, Garret? Looks tasty, you going to share your spoils with the rest of us?”

  “I don’t share.” Garret exactly knew what kind of fate awaited Bo.

  If Bo were to stand in front of the pack, the pack would offer Bo their protection in exchange for servitude. There was only one way out, even if Garret would damn them both in the process. Bo might scream at claw at him, but ultimately, Bo would be grateful, because he was this close to becoming free meat for a bunch of horny werewolves.

  “I found Bo and I’m keeping him, he’s now personally under my protection. Anyone who disagrees can challenge me.”

  “You can’t give random humans your protection without the pack’s permission,” Declan pointed out with a leer.

  Garret bristled. Declan was quoting fucking pack laws to him? Garret had been with the pack since his teens while Declan only moved in a few years ago. “Unless that human is my mate.”

  Harley let out a surprised breath. “Garret, think about what you’re saying.”

  “I’ve made my decision and I’m not changing my mind.”

  Garret sensed Declan’s spiritual wolf circling him, eying his beast, but Garret wasn’t a submissive wolf in the pack. His own beast snapped back, fur raised, telling the other wolf the human in their arms was theirs. Garret’s human half might be capable of lying, but his animal half couldn’t, and his wolf’s reaction just solidified his lie to Declan and Harley.

  “Hard to believe, but that proves he’s telling the truth,” Harley told Declan. Harley grabbed Declan’s arm, but Declan shoved him away.

  “I call this bullshit. You’re fucking in luck I’m not going to tear out your throat, Garret.” Declan’s gaze burned into Garret’s steady ones.

  You can try, Garret had been almost tempted to say, but decided against it. Garret might not be in the upper echelons in terms of pack hierarchy, but he was savage in a fight, especially against the likes of bullies like Declan who were all talk.

  Declan continued, “The alpha is going to hear about this, and you’re going to be fucked.”

  Was Garret supposed to feel threatened by that? True, Freddie Torres might be one hard bastard, but he was a decent leader.

  “Tell Freddie whatever you want. If there’s nothing else, get off my property before my mate bleeds to death.”

  Declan growled, about to take a threatening step toward Garret, but Harley tugged at his arm.

  “Let it go, Declan. Like you said, Freddie and the others need to hear about this first.”

  To Garret’s surprise, Declan listened. Garret didn’t move from his porch until he was certain the two wolves were gone. He shut the front door behind him and made sure all the locks were in place. Declan might be an ass, but he wouldn’t risk his position in the pack by starting a random fight with another member.

  Garret lowered Bo on his bed, and went in search for supplies. He overturned his tiny cabin, searching for the first-aid kit he was certain he had. Garret didn’t exactly need it, because whatever injury he had, his supernatural healing abilities would easily kick in. He finally found the box under a stack of unpacked boxes in the storeroom. Garret swallowed when he saw the boxes contained all of the stuff in the old life he left behind back when Brandon was alive. Sentimentality stopped him from throwing out the box’s contents.

  “Brandon, what the fuck am I going to do?” Garret grumbled, pushing the boxes away.

  He tucked the kit under his arm, and took deep breaths. Most wolves already considered him eccentric, and now this—helping out a random outsider, and talking to himself. Not to mention his other problem. Bo’s ex still lingered out th
ere in the woods. Until they knew more, Bo’s ex would remain there. One lone werebear Garret could handle, but his pack?

  Garret headed back to his room. Bo lay on his side, clutching at Garret’s pillow like a child. His tender heart raged with emotions.

  “You better be worth it, Bo,” Garret muttered, before he began tending to Bo’s injuries.

  Chapter Five

  Bo drifted in and out of consciousness. He tossed uneasily in bed, plagued by nightmares. The moments he did lie awake, he sensed someone moving around the room. Too exhausted and lazy to open his eyes, Bo only watched the huge shadow with half-lidded eyes. It was funny how the large guy never made a sound though, which made Bo think this was all a dream.

  That evening, or was it morning? Bo could no longer tell. The blinds were always down—which suited him just fine. He liked the comfort of the dark room and comfy quilts he slept on.

  The bedroom door creaked. Bo heard a soft curse from a rough voice. Bo forced himself to wake up. The time for sleep was past. Drugs made his mind foggy, although he didn’t think his mysterious caretaker drugged him on purpose. Parts of him ached, but his mind didn’t associate danger with his caretaker. Bo pushed his sluggish mind to work.

  Weekend. Camping. Royce. Murderer.

  Bo sucked in a breath, and slowly sat up.

  “You finally awake?” asked a gruff voice.

  Awful memories started filling his head. Bo running buck naked in the woods, stumbling into someone’s property—this stranger had taken him in and nursed him back to health.

  “Who are you?” Bo asked, rubbing his eyes.

  He swallowed when he took stock of the stranger. Dark-haired, dark-eyed, huge, definitely more than six-feet and every inch was padded with hard muscle. Not the kind of muscle one got at the gym, Bo noticed, but the sinewy corded kind form hard menial work.

  “You don’t fucking remember me? That’s great.” The stranger expelled a breath and sat his tray down. The smell of hot stew instantly assaulted Bo’s senses. His stomach growled, but he couldn’t let his hunger take over. The stew smelled familiar. So did this guy.

  That voice, he vaguely recalled, sometimes talked to him when he was half-awake. Those large coarse hands had lifted him up, and spoon-fed him with a gentleness Bo would never expect from a huge redneck who lived in the woods.

  “Garret,” he whispered.

  The strangest part of that evening leapt at Bo. He remembered falling on his knees, and that kiss. God. The press of Garret’s lips against his own nearly made his insides melt and his brain forget reason. Some part of him kept screaming Royce was still out there, gunning for him, but the other half only wanted to urge Garret to go further.

  Trespassing into a stranger’s property to ask for help? That was acceptable. Getting a hard-on from kissing a stranger he just met, while his ex hunted him down? Beyond inappropriate, and Bo wasn’t the impulsive sort. Well, he was hurt and probably half out of his mind.

  Bo noticed pleasure filled the other man’s face. Then it disappeared, and Garret looked dark and brooding again. The way those inquisitive and hooded eyes looked at Bo made Bo a little wary. Not the scared kind of wary, but something else. The certainty tangling with Garret would lead to dark and exciting roads.

  “Dude, the way you’re looking at me is a little scary,” Bo pointed out.

  Garret said nothing, only sat at the side of the bed and mutely took the tray to pass it to him. “You have no fucking idea, what kind of mess you’re in, don’t you?”

  Bo accepted the tray. Garret wouldn’t poison him. He was sure of that because Garret kept him alive this long. Never once did Garret do anything inappropriate either, although Bo would ask Garret why he’d go this far to help some random human.

  Human. The word glowed like a sudden light bulb in Bo’s head. Remembering how Garret made a strange growling sound his throat that night and two wolf-like snarls answered, Bo nearly dropped his soup.

  “You’re a shifter,” Bo shakily said, backing away from the bed. The tray across his lap wobbled, and his back hit the headboard.

  “I can smell your fear.” Garret showed him a flash of his slightly sharpened canines, which did not belong to a human mouth. Then Garret sighed. “Not all shifters are like your crazy ex.”

  “Yeah?” Bo recalled asking Garret that night if Garret wanted to eat him, but the erection pressing against Garret’s jeans told Bo a different story.

  Logically, Bo should distrust shifters after Royce’s crazy transformation. He should be insane for trusting Garret this much, but he did. Bo couldn’t understand why he felt so comfortable around Garret, or why Garret’s presence didn’t trigger his natural instincts to run away from a dangerous predator.

  Feeling foolish, Bo righted himself and said, “I feel safe around you.”

  “You shouldn’t be,” Garret said harshly.

  “But you just said—”

  “Forget what I just said. You think you’re in the clearing, but you’re not. Do you have any clue what kind of shit storm is about to rain down on us?” Garret demanded.

  Bo realized Garret used the word “us” specifically. “What do you mean?”

  “Eat your food, and then I’ll explain.”

  “Are you always this damn bossy to your guests?” Bo asked. He took a huge spoonful of stew and sighed.

  “I don’t have guests. This is why I live up here,” Garret said flatly.

  Bo took a break from shoveling stew into his mouth to steal a glance at Garret. “Why?”

  “Food first, water, then pills,” Garret instructed.

  “Fine,” Bo snapped. After finishing the bowl, he gingerly asked for another one.

  “Be right back.” Garret came back with another bowl and two beers.

  “Oh thank God. Beer. Gimme,” Bo whined until Garret mutely handed him one.

  They both took long pulls, and Bo finished his second bowl. Garret handed him some pills and a glass of cool water. He took those, too. “Okay, Dad. Done. Can we have the talk now?”

  Garret glowered at him and Bo gulped when he caught sight of his irises turning yellow at the edges. They reverted back to dark brown down, although Garret was breathing hard. “I’m not your fucking father.”

  “Sorry. It was a bad choice of words. I’m grateful for your help, for sticking your neck out for me, a mere human.” Bo didn’t know what possessed him to lean over, and kiss Garret on the cheek.

  Bo’s pulse leaped when Garret closed his hand around his throat. Garret stroked the chords of his throat as lover would, before settling his fingers around the nape of Bo’s neck. The proximity was startling intimate, but instead of inciting fear, excitement crawled down Bo’s spine.

  “Kiss me,” Bo whispered, feeling bold and slightly feverish.

  Garret didn’t wait for Bo to change his mind. He took Bo’s lips, and the heat and taste of the werebear flooded down his throat. Bo dreamed of this too, of being kissed like this. Garret deepened the kiss, making his head spin, eliminating any logical thought. Then Garret abruptly parted, breathing hard.

  “Why did you stop?” Bo whispered.

  “Around you, I’m fucking terrified of losing control,” Garret muttered. He seemed angry by the knowledge, although Bo couldn’t understand why.

  “You seemed pretty sure of yourself back when I collapsed on your porch. Besides, I’m not a shifter, but I know you’re safe when Royce isn’t,” Bo pointed out.

  “That’s a fucking terrible assumption to make,” Garret said, releasing his neck.

  Bo didn’t like that. It felt a little chilly, without Garret’s warm coarse hand there. He knew how easily Garret could snap the bones of his neck. Bo even liked the fact Garret possessed that power.

  Teasing and craving the illusion of danger was a lot different from crossing the actual line though. Royce proved that, but Bo still couldn’t figure out why rational rules didn’t seem to apply with Garret.

  “You owe me an explanation,” Bo said, changi
ng the uncomfortable topic.

  Garret sobered up and began to speak. By the time he finished, the two of them downed a couple of beer bottles.

  “Jesus. That’s some scary-ass shit to unload on me. But why would you do that, pretend I’m your mate?” Bo asked.

  Garret didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds. Only let the silence speak for itself. Bo knew about the concept of mates. He’d read extensively about it, because only a fool would go into a relationship with a shifter blind. Royce kept dodging the question though, which stung a little.

  Mates shared half of shifter’s soul and completed them. Royce had never really considered Bo his equal, or mate-worthy material, but here was Garret basically telling Bo he was the one. Sappy as that sounded, Bo liked belonging to someone completely body, heart, and soul.

  “Are you certain?” Bo asked.

  “The last time I reacted like this had been around my ex-husband and mate,” Garret said gruffly, although Bo sensed old hurts there.

  “Ex?” Bo asked, heart thumping. The last thing he would want to be was a third wheel, or get himself involved in a complicated mess.

  “He died.” Garret didn’t provide any additional information, although Bo suspected he already said too much.

  “So how do we find out? I mean, look. We’re in this boat together. I got you into this mess. The least I can do is help you out of it.” Bo meant his words, although privately, he wondered what it would be like, being Garret’s mate. Certainly would be one hell of a challenge, living with a brooding and grumpy wolf, but Bo supposed Garret had his reasons. He read somewhere wolves mated for life. If one died, the other soon followed, so why did Garret live on?

  “My pack would need proof. We don’t offer our protection to outsiders on impulse,” Garret said, then let out a breath. “There’s your crazy ex to consider, too. The pack would most likely expect me to take care of him, but that’s a problem for another day.”