Page 8 of Desire Him

Jesse chuffs. “It’d have to be a special someone. Someone who can promise them their darkest desires.”

Wayne sets down his mug and crosses his arms again. He wonders what, exactly, those darkest desires would be, but he doesn’t ask it. Instead, he asks, “Shouldn’t I count you among those numbers?”

Jesse waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I don’t get involved with their crap. I may be packless, but I want nothing to do with their dark desires. I’m just fine on my own.”

“I see.” Wayne looks around the bar, studying the faces that are there. “What about wolfcalm?”

Jesse stiffens, though he tries to hide it. “What about it?”

“Are the rogues selling it?”

His jaw ticks, and Wayne almost thinks he won’t answer him, but then he murmurs, “I’ve heard the rumors just like you.”

“Have you actually seen it, though?” Wayne presses.

Jesse shakes his head, but Wayne can tell it’s a lie. “Just the rumors. Like I said, I don’t involve myself with them.”

Wayne blows out a breath and leans back in his stool. “It’s a miracle they haven’t come for you and forced you to join their shit show.”

A small grin spreads across Jesse’s face. “They could try.”

Wayne chuckles quietly. The seriousness returns to his voice as he asks, “If one were to look, where should that someone look?”

“For wolfcalm?”

Wayne nods.

“At night. I know better than to go out at night. At night, they’re most active.”

Wayne scratches at the stubble along his jaw. A night trip to the city would be a dangerous one, something he wouldn’t be able to do alone. He had hoped it would be as easy as walking up to a rogue and demanding answers, but he can tell it’s a bit more complicated than that. By Jesse’s confessions, the rogues are careful to hide their secrets.

Checking the time on the clock on the wall, Wayne clears his throat. It’s almost noon. “I enjoyed the chat, Jesse, but I have to get back to my pack.” He snatches a napkin and reaches over the bar for a pen. He scribbles down his cellphone number and passes it to Jesse. “Can I count on you for insider information?”

Jesse stares at the number, glances around, then slides the napkin into his pocket with a curt nod. Wayne slides off the stools, drops some cash on the counter, and makes to leave but stops when Jesse adds, “Careful, Wayne. What happens here isn’t for no mountain boy.”

Over his shoulder, Wayne says, “Understood,” before exiting the bar.