Chapter Five
“Waiting for a call from your boyfriend?” a low voice snarled from behind Grisham just as he felt an elbow slam into his kidney. Grisham rocked forward with the blow, and his hip jammed into the counter. “Faggot.”
Peering over his shoulder confirmed what Grisham had suspected. It was Detective Clive Bronson. The man was a grade A asshole.
After another snide comment about his sexuality, Bronson sneered and left the break room.
At least Clive was an equal opportunity bigot. He hated everyone different—women, blacks, gays, even people who were religious. The man also did a fantastic job of only making nasty comments when no one but his target was around to hear.
Grisham shook his head as he returned to why he’d entered the break room to begin with—to get some coffee. He finished rinsing out his cup in the sink, then reached over and grabbed the carafe. After filling his mug, Grisham returned it to the heating plate.
“Does Bronson do that often?”
Spinning with surprise, Grisham sloshed coffee on his hand. He hissed, immediately placing the mug on the counter. After grabbing a paper towel, Grisham wiped his hand, then focused on the man who’d startled him.
Captain John Casinov stood behind him. The older man, Grisham guessed in his early fifties, had his hands in the pockets of his dress slacks. He sported an intense expression, accentuating the lines around his eyes and mouth.
Clearing his throat, Grisham shrugged. “Often enough.”
“Why haven’t you ever filed a complaint?” His brown eyebrows furrowed, and his hazel eyes narrowed. “Even if you’re not homosexual, his comments are inappropriate.”
Grisham tossed the paper towel, then leaned against the counter. Rubbing the back of his neck, he admitted, “I am gay. He has me pegged rightly enough.” Meeting the captain’s gaze, he stated, “And he’s always been great at making his remarks when there are no witnesses.”
“Until now.”
Nodding, Grisham couldn’t help but smirk. “Yeah. In the past, it would have always been a case of he said, she said type thing, so there was no point.”
“Until now,” Captain Casinov repeated.
“Right. Until now.”
Captain Casinov grunted. “Very well. I’ll follow up on it.” He headed past Grisham, aiming for the coffee.
“Thank you, Captain,” Grisham responded, relieved that Bronson had been caught and worried about how he would respond to anything the captain did to him all at the same time. “Which creamer do you want?”
Grisham had been working under Captain Casinov for over ten years. He knew the man appreciated flavors with his brew. While Grisham preferred to taste his coffee, he did enjoy plain creamer.
To that end, Grisham opened the refrigerator and grabbed a carton of half and half, then paused and peered at the captain.
“I’m in the mood for pumpkin spice.”
Upon spotting the requested flavor, Grisham grabbed it and used his hip to close the door. He set Captain Casinov’s choice on the counter, then opened the carton he still held and poured a dash into his drink. After the captain had done the same with his choice, Grisham took it back and returned both items to the fridge.
Just as Grisham reached for his mug, his phone vibrated on his hip. He removed it from the clip at his belt and peered at the screen. His heart felt as if it skipped a beat as he read the name on the screen.
Cuzco.
Grisham couldn’t stop his smile, even as worry filled him. The man’s boss could very well be a criminal. How was he going to explain that to the man?
“You gonna answer that?”
Hearing the teasing in Captain Casinov’s tone, Grisham felt heat flood his cheeks. He cleared his throat as he slid his thumb across the screen, accepting the call. “It’s Grisham. Give me just a minute.”
“Okay.”
The sound of Cuzco’s voice caused his blood to fire in his veins and flow south.
Damn. There’s something about this man.
Grisham turned his attention to Captain Casinov and offered, “Enjoy your coffee,” as he picked up his own mug and headed toward a table on the far side of the break room.
Captain Casinov grinned back at him, the move lighting up his hazel eyes. “Enjoy talking with your boyfriend,” he teased.
Gaping, Grisham couldn’t find his tongue in order to correct the man. He flopped into a chair as he watched the captain exit the room. Shaking his head, he couldn’t believe his boss had just teased him about his love life... and he’d sounded happy for him, encouraging even.
Letting out a short chuckle, Grisham refocused on his call.
At least if Cuzco ends up being my boyfriend, I won’t get any flak from the brass.
Good grief. Boyfriend?
Focusing on his phone, Grisham struggled to sort his wayward thoughts. He had to make certain Cuzco wasn’t hurt by his search into the man’s bosses. On top of that, what would happen if the president and a few others were brought up on charges?
Shit! The marine park could close, meaning Cuzco could lose his job. But stopping crime is my job. I can’t just look the other way. I need—
“Grisham? Are you still there?”
Realizing he’d been breathing into his phone without saying anything, Grisham pulled his head out of his ass. “Hi, Cuzco. Thanks for calling me.”
“I missed you this morning,” Cuzco told him, his voice soft through the line. “I’d hoped to wake you with a blowjob.”
Grisham groaned as his prick swelled behind the fly of his jeans. “Damn,” he mumbled. “Sorry I missed out on that, but I had to work.”
Cuzco hummed before whispering huskily, “Next time.”
“It’s a date,” Grisham replied without thinking. Shaking his head at himself, he quickly continued, “So, uh, how long have you worked at the marina?”
“Over ten years,” Cuzco told him. “Your text said you needed to talk to me about my boss?”
“Yeah, I do,” Grisham began, struggling to choose his words. He still wasn’t certain how to ask.
“Mister Roush is a great guy to work for. Honest and fair to his employees.” Cuzco’s tone held a note of clear praise. He was obviously a fan of the man. “Are you looking for a job? I could find out from Eban if they’re hiring for security. He got Solomon a job there, after all.”
“No, babe,” Grisham replied. “I’m not looking for a job.”
“I like it when you call me that.”
“Call you what?” Grisham asked absently, something else popping into his head. “Ten years. You can’t be more than twenty-five, twenty-six. Wow, you must have started young.”
“I like it when you call me babe, and I’m older than I look.”
Grisham hadn’t even realized he was doing it. Huh. He’d never been an endearment kind of guy—maybe because he’d never had a boyfriend—but the term just rolled right off his tongue. Grisham kind of liked it.
Damn. I’m already in too deep.
“I’d like to talk to you about a few things. Will you swing by my apartment this evening?”
That was another first, inviting a hook-up to his place.
“Of course. What time?”
* * * *
“I’m sorry, Cuzco,” Kaiser stated after Cuzco hung up the phone. “I don’t see another way.”
Cuzco nodded. His cheeks heated uncomfortably. He rubbed at them. It wasn’t that he was a prude, but he’d never talked about his sex life in front of people.
His desires had just sort of... popped out without thinking, even though he knew his alpha, beta, and head enforcer could hear everything they said to each other.
“So, tonight we all go.” Kaiser patted Cuzco on the wrist. “We’ll answer his questions, explain shifters and mates, and impress the importance of anonymity.”
“Don’t worry, little buddy,” William rumbled, giving him a one-armed hug. “All will be well.”
Cuzco nodded again, hoping Beta William was right.
Hours later, Cuzco sat in the back seat of a small limo. William and Kaiser were with him. Eban was in the passenger seat next to the driver—Westram, a longnose sawshark shifter.
“Gods, I feel like I’m being escorted to pick up my prom date,” Cuzco suddenly blurted out, his nerves spiking. He shifted in his seat, rubbing his palms over his thighs.
William barked out a laugh while Kaiser chuckled low in his throat.
Grinning widely, William leaned across the seat and smacked the inside of his knee. “Relax, Casanova.” He winked while relaxing back in his seat. “We’ll try not to cramp your style.”
“After he hears about everything, I’ll be lucky if he ever wants to see me again.” Cuzco stared at the floor of the vehicle, mumbling his fears. “What if he runs away?”
“Well, once he knows about shifters, if he rejects you, there’s only one way we’ll allow him to walk away from you,” Kaiser stated, his tone matter of fact. Smiling kindly at Cuzco, he added, “But we won’t allow that to happen.”
Cuzco understood his meaning. Grisham’s mind would have to be wiped by a vampire, and he would have to be relocated. Cuzco would end up pining for decades until the human died of old age, severing their weak link.
The car slowed to a stop, and the window separating them from the front cab rolled down. “We’re here, Alpha,” Westram stated. “There’s not much for visitor parking, so after I drop you off, I’ll drive around until I find something.”
“Sounds good,” Kaiser replied. “We’ll call when we’re ready for pick-up.”
“Yes, sir.”
A second later, the door opened, revealing Eban. “It’s a fairly quiet neighborhood, and his building is secure,” the shark shifter stated as Cuzco followed Kaiser from the vehicle. Eban pointed toward the building and a metal gate across the front door. “He’ll have to buzz Cuzco up, but it doesn’t look like there’s a camera, though, so he shouldn’t know he isn’t alone.”
“Standing right here,” Cuzco grumbled, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. Being talked about instead of to was annoying.
“Sorry.” Eban appeared contrite. “Habit.”
“An annoying one,” William stated, knocking shoulders with the other shifter before closing the door behind him. He smacked the hood of the car, letting Westram know it was okay to move on.
“Let’s get this done,” Kaiser ordered, striding up the walk.
Cuzco jogged a few steps to catch up. When his alpha stopped a couple of paces away from the door, he nearly slammed into the back of him. He growled under his breath, irritated at his nervousness, then stepped around Alpha Kaiser.
After inhaling deeply, then letting it out through pursed lips, Cuzco hit the intercom button next to Grisham’s apartment number.
A moment later Cuzco heard Grisham’s handsome voice come through the box. “Yes?”
“It’s Cuzco.” He couldn’t seem to stop the slight breathiness to his voice. His anticipation was too great.
“Come on in, babe,” Grisham urged right before the buzz of the door unlocking sounded through the evening stillness.
William beat Cuzco to grabbing the door handle. As he opened it and held it open for him, the beta mouthed, Babe? His dark eyes twinkled, and he grinned broadly.
Blushing, Cuzco ducked his head and hurried through the open door. He couldn’t wait for Beta William to meet his own mate. Cuzco knew he wasn’t the only one who hoped to have the chance to incessantly tease the big alpha male.
Cuzco led the way toward the elevator. Seeing the light indicated it was on the fifth floor and his mate’s apartment was on the third, he turned left. Heading into the stairway, Cuzco started trotting up them.
When Cuzco reached the top of the stairs, he exited and glanced at the nearest apartment number. He figured out which direction, then started in it. Cuzco took another deep breath, trying to get his racing pulse to slow, before knocking on Grisham’s door.
To his surprise, the door creaked open a bit, telling him it hadn’t been latched.
Cuzco’s immediate questions were answered when Grisham called, “Come on in, Cuzco. Head to the right. I’m in the kitchen.”
Cuzco obeyed, pushing the door open and entering a small foyer. Spotting the shoe rack, he toed off his sneakers before padding through the space. His octopus, which enjoyed squeezing in and out of tight spaces, enjoyed the sight of a floor-length shelf full of CDs, books, and DVDs. Not that he ever could, since he was an aquatic animal, but it still appealed to him.
Turning to the right, Cuzco spotted the small dining room table. Two of the chairs had stacks of files resting on them. Another stack was on the floor by the wall.
One thing was for certain, his mate took his work home with him... a lot. Plus, based on the takeout boxes on the table, the man probably wasn’t much of a chef. That was okay because Cuzco loved to cook.
I’ll take ever-so-good care of him.
A counter separated the kitchen space, which was tucked to the right, from the dining area. It wasn’t until Cuzco was further in that he spotted Grisham. His lover was on the far side near the sink, both hands in what appeared to be a double sink. One hand was deep in suds. It seemed Grisham had been washing some dishes.
Looking over his shoulder, Grisham gave Cuzco an abashed smile. “Sorry, babe. Been working a lot and the place was a mess. Got off work later than I’d hoped and—” He paused, shrugging.
Cuzco nodded. “No problem.”
“Come here, and give me a kiss,” Grisham demanded with a grin.
More than happy to do that, Cuzco rounded the bar and headed toward Grisham. His lover half-turned toward him, his wet hand landing on his hip. Cuzco placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned in close, pressing a light peck to Grisham’s lips.
“Hi,” Cuzco whispered, smiling at his mate, not even minding the wetness that sank into his shirt when Grisham slid his soapy hand under his jacket to palm his waist.
“Hey, babe.” Grisham pecked another kiss to his lips, turning them in the process. In the next instant, he brought up his second hand, revealing he held his gun. “Come on out, guys, and tell me what the fuck you’re doing here,” he demanded, pointing toward where the counter met the wall.
Kaiser appeared and leaned his hip against the bar. His gaze flicked from the gun to Grisham to Cuzco. He offered a wry smile.
“Are you okay, Cuzco?” Kaiser asked.
“Y-Yeah.” Confused, Cuzco clung to Grisham. “What are you doing, Grisham?” He shook his mate a little, but Grisham didn’t lower his weapon. “Why are you, um, p-pointing a g-gun at him?”
“Where are your friends, Kaiser?” Grisham demanded. “I know you’re not alone.”
“William, Eban, join me,” Kaiser ordered, beckoning with one hand. “Do you have any coffee?”
Grisham didn’t respond as Kaiser moved away from the counter and crossed to the table. After moving a pile of files from one of the chairs, Kaiser sat, stretching out his long legs and crossing them at the ankles as he appeared to relax and get comfortable. Eban and William joined him, one of them removing the other pile of files, leaving the final clear chair empty.
“You said you wanted to ask Cuzco questions about us,” Kaiser stated. “I figured you should get the information directly from the source.”
William grinned at Grisham. “You two really do make a cute couple.” He waggled his brows. “We’ll also explain why you have such an instant attraction to Cuzco, and why you have a driving need to protect him.”
Cuzco felt Grisham’s arm tighten a little. Taking a chance, he pressed closer and lifted a hand to his mate’s wrist on the arm that held the gun. He wrapped his fingers around it and pressed down, urging him to lower the weapon.
“Please, Grisham,” Cuzco pleaded. “Please, put it down. They’re here to help.”
“I don’t need the help of criminals, Cuzco,” Grisham stated, his voice hard. He cast a side-eyed glance Cuzco’s way. “And neither do you, babe. These men kidnapped the guys who attacked Solomon.” Returning his focus to Kaiser, he glared. “Isn’t that true? It’s the only explanation for them disappearing so completely. Plus, I overheard you talking about breaking into Armando Whitney’s estate.”
“While you are correct about us kidnapping Jim and Thanos”—Kaiser responded, obviously being blunt—”you are overlooking another option.”