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“Don’t give me that shit. He’d been here at least a year. So don’t you fucking try and make this the same thing.”
My fingers itched to pull my top drawer open and light up another cigarette, but I could handle the temptation. Even with the turbulence that had landed in my pack, I was determined to resist. Talking about Sasha would not be the reason I asphyxiated on tobacco smoke.
“So, is it because Sasha's a woman or because she's human?”
“Neither,” I snarled. “If Silver had walked into my office the day after he came to us saying he wanted to ride along and make a bloody mess of those bastards, I would’ve said the same thing.”
I snatched the packet back out of the drawer. I’d send Popcorn or Snickerdoodle out for smokes.
Mongrel reached over my desk and swiped my pack, pulling one out for himself. Bastard.
“Good. Just had to make sure it's not ‘cause you’re treating that woman as weak. She ain’t.”
“Fuck, Mongrel, that woman—no, the fucking Chaos—has me all tied up in knots,” I exploded. “I’m a Goddess-damned pretzel on the inside, man. I don’t know how to handle it. Her. Any of this shit.”
I waved the smoke in my hand at him, like he couldn’t see my ass nearly chainsmoking the entire fucking pack, as proof.
“Mate her, then.”
Dickhead said it with a straight face, too, as he lit his own cigarette. He leaned back in his chair, kicking his boots up onto the corner of my desk. Made it sound so simple. And maybe it was. For him. He had Silver, had a claim on the man he’d been in love with for years, but we both knew Sasha was different.
“You hear the part where I said no? How about fuck no? Or, better yet, how about the abuse? She’s gotta be messed up inside from what they did to her, man. Don’t pretend she ain’t. I know she’s strong. Strongest woman I ever met. But no one goes through that shit untouched. No one.”
Silver’s claiming mark was peeking out from under the sleeve of my Sgt. at Arms’ t-shirt. I was happy for my friends—I was—but I knew that shit wasn’t for me. Whether Sasha wanted to admit it or not, she was in no position to make life changing decisions, either.
“Your loss,” Mongrel shrugged, cracking his knuckles with a warning gleam in his eyes.
A lethal rattle started up in my chest. Mongrel was telling me if I didn’t mate her quick, he was going to do it then parade her claimed ass right in front of my Goddess damned face. My wolf scratched at my insides, wanting to tear a new one for our oldest friend.
Instead, I sat back. Let him have his moment. Here, in my office, with a closed door.
“How's Silver with everything?”
He hadn’t been the most stable omega when he found his way to the Soul Reapers, but he’d thrived here, flourished into the wolf he was always meant to be. I’d enjoyed making his old pack bleed, too. I knew seeing the state of the humans yesterday—finding them all locked up in cages, no less—had done a number on him.
“Happy as fuck ‘cause now he can’t ever lose me.” Mongrel grinned, taking a long drag from his cigarette and fingering his claim mark. “Elated that he was right this entire time. I can already tell my omega plans to rub my snout in this for a long time to come.”
I rolled my eyes at the smug gleam in his eye. “I meant seeing all these people and what they went through. I know how much he takes onto himself.”
“He’s dealing.” My friend sighed and leaned over my desk to tap ash into my ashtray. “Sure, his pack abused him. Treated him like shit. Locked him up, Then wrapped all BS in a pretty little bow with pure mindfuckery about how omegas got treated like that everywhere. But this is different. These people got taken from their homes or were snatched from the streets.”
“And some got sold into it,” I growled, dark thoughts swirling about Sasha once more. “And regardless, it’s still abuse.”
I crushed my cigarette and pushed the ashtray across the desk for him.
“It is,” he agreed solemnly, letting that rage I knew he kept tucked deep inside rise to the surface. “But we did right by Silver. Took care of his abusers, just like we will for those poor bastards out there. After that, we’ll grind what’s left of the Bone Crushers MC into dust.”
I leaned forward, hands clasped on the desk. Finally, a topic I was interested in. Crushing our common enemies.
“None of the boys can account for Venom, nor Crusher. Un-fucking-fortunately. We got them on the run, though, with no clubhouse to bunker down in. Need to get ready for their retaliation but they’ll be in the wind for a few days yet.”
“Yeah,” I agreed with a heavy sigh. “But you know cockroaches. Always ready to infest another building.”
“Good thing we’re so good at burning shit down, then.”
“Well, burning shit is your firebug mate’s speciality,” I teased.
“Yeah,” Mongrel winked at me, stubbing out his cigarette. “He makes me so proud.”
