Chapter Three
Chuey
The sun was a hint of color on the horizon. Chuey loved this time of the day. At least, he used to, back in Mexico. Day after day, the dawn had brought him the most vibrant colors, like a show every morning that started with deep blues and purples, transitioned to silver, and then exploded with reds, pinks and oranges. The weather wasn't always as clear as it had been back in the hills of Mexico, so the colors weren't always as brilliant as they'd been.
They were this morning, though. It was going to be a nice day, Chuey could feel it. It would be all the nicer if he was able to spend it with the man in front of him.
When Chuey had run, he'd had no idea where to go. He knew of two places, the camp and Maggie's, and neither had appealed to him. He'd wanted one thing and had let his nose take him to it. He hadn't meant to fall asleep in Ryder's bed, that had been an accident. A happy one, since Ryder's scent still clung lightly to his clothes.
Ryder told him they just needed to get the bike and then they could go back. Chuey hoped to bring up the sex conversation again.
Except, when Ryder led him down the last trail to his bike, Chuey picked up fresh scents of his padre and padre's mates. He froze.
"What is it?" Ryder asked.
"They're near," Chuey replied.
"C'mon, Chuey, it's just up here," Ryder said, dismissing his words. There was something else to his voice that hadn't been there yet. Not a tremble, but a color to his tone that felt the slightest bit off in Chuey's ears.
Chuey rushed to the space in front of Ryder, clinging to his shoulders. "I trusted you," he said.
Ryder wouldn't meet his eyes. "Kid..." he started, staring at the forest floor.
Before Chuey could make another move, a branch snapped to the right. He turned in time to see Julian rushing through the brush with Logan beside him.
"Oh, thank God," Logan said.
Chuey looked back to Ryder, but the older man wouldn't look at him. "This is for the best, boy," he said, pulling Chuey's hands free.
He stumbled back, intending to fight, to run. But then, he saw his padre's face, so hurt and sad. Julian gave them both a curiously grim expression.
"Is there something you need to tell us?" Julian asked slowly.
"He was asleep in my bed. That's all," Ryder replied.
Julian must have sensed Ryder's scent on Chuey's body. He assumed they'd slept together. He wanted to laugh but thought that would just make him start to scream. The idea that they'd been intimate was laughable now that Chuey could see what Ryder thought of him. Like a kid that needed returned. He was a pet that had wandered into their neighbor's yard.
Back at the house, Ryder had spoken so openly to him. He'd acknowledged their attraction; Chuey had stupidly thought it was the beginning of something. From where he stood now, he saw that he'd been wrong. "I'm going to bed," Chuey said, turning away from Ryder. He paused near his padre and gave him a quick hug around his neck. "I'm sorry, Padre. I won't do it again," he said before shifting and sprinting back to camp. He didn't know if Ryder watched him run away. That was fine. Betrayal swirled in his stomach. He'd be happy if he never saw Ryder again.
***
Three weeks later, Chuey arranged the last of the wildflowers into a vase. Back at home, he knew the vegetation forward and backward: which were safe to eat, which you could eat but didn't really want to, and which were like a dessert. He'd consulted with Jack before picking the most delicious collection of wildflowers and herbs.
He heard Duncan begin to stir in his crib in the next room over and skipped over to lift him before Padre, Julian or Hugh heard him.
Duncan lay in his crib, face screwed up in the beginnings of a wail that looked like it could disturb the entire camp. Chuey lifted him quickly, patting and shushing him. His little body relaxed enough for Chuey to lay him on the changing table and put a fresh diaper on him. He brought him out to the kitchen and began preparing a bottle when, suddenly, he heard voices in the other room. They were loud in the way where he could tell they were trying to be quiet.
"In shifter culture, he's a grown man," Hugh said.
Chuey finished preparing the bottle and shamelessly stopped outside of Padre's door. He fed the baby as he eavesdropped.
"He is not a grown man," Logan replied angrily. "He is a child, he is my child."
"Duncan is your child," Julian replied softly.
"You know what I mean," Logan snapped. "I can't look at him without remembering how he was when we first found him. Remember? Frightened and thin, being hunted by those ranchers. I know he looks grown, but he's been in our world for what, a year?"
"We aren't asking you to kick him out of the pack."
Chuey's heart stopped. It was finally happening. Ever since the Ryder fiasco, Chuey had done his best to behave. He'd done all his chores before being asked and had really stepped up helping out with Duncan, like he was at that moment. None of it had been enough, though; they were still deciding he was too much trouble.
"We only want you to consider letting him move into another cabin. Garth needs a roommate. He'd be three doors down."
Chuey exhaled a breath in relief.
"No, absolutely not—"
"Hold on," Julian said, and the next thing Chuey knew, the door was opening.
He jerked into movement, making it look as though he'd been just walking past. "Oh, hello."
"Oh, hello," Julian replied sarcastically. "If you want to eavesdrop, breathe more quietly."
"Padre's mate, I was not—" Chuey began, but Julian just rolled his eyes.
"Thank you for getting Duncan," Hugh said. "I didn't hear him wake up."
"Maybe you were listening for breathing too hard?" Chuey replied.
Hugh smirked while Julian growled low.
"This is what I mean, Logan. He's growing up," Julian said, gesturing toward Chuey. "He needs his own space where he can be a smartass somewhere that isn't around me."
Logan reached for Duncan, and Chuey gently passed him over. Duncan didn't care who held him as long as the bottle didn't move. "Thank you, Chuey, you've been very helpful lately. Disregard Julian."
"I am your mate," Julian sputtered.
"You'll be my late mate if you aren't careful," Logan replied, passing the baby over to Hugh before stomping into Julian's space, his finger pointed rudely at his chest. "You don't make my decisions, grizzly."
Hugh passed Duncan back to Chuey before moving between Julian and Logan. "Everyone needs to relax."
Julian chortled as Logan hissed, "Did you just tell me to relax?"
Chuey turned from the three of them. "Going for a walk," he called over his shoulder, fully expecting to be ignored as he was. He knew how his padre's fights with his mates ended. With grunting and loud moans. He'd save Duncan the exposure and himself the trauma.
Chuey walked out to the center strip of the camp. There were tables and benches there for socializing throughout the day, and Chuey took a seat so he could finish feeding Duncan. When the bottle was empty, he propped the baby over his shoulder and patted his back, waiting for the burp.
It came a few seconds later, along with Garth, who took a seat on the bench across from him. "He threw up on you," Garth said before returning his attention to the piece of wood in his hand.
"What is that one?" Chuey asked, indicating the wood while trying to wipe the spit up off his shoulder. It took seconds to realize there was more than Chuey could handle. "Hold him?" he asked, thrusting Duncan to Garth so he could pull his shirt up over his head. When he looked back at Garth holding Duncan, he laughed. "You look like you're holding a rattlesnake."
"Aren't I?" Garth scowled. "Look what he did to you."
"No harm," Chuey replied, looking down at his toned body. He flexed his muscles, wiping off dirt that wasn't there. If he was being honest, Chuey was a little vain about his body these days. Now that he didn't have to fight for food, he was gaining weight, and with every pound, Chuey thought he was looking better and better.
"What's that douche doing here?" Garth asked as he handed Duncan back over to Chuey.
Chuey followed his gaze and felt his breath freeze in his throat. Ryder was there, walking along the paths in front of the cabins on the far end, behind Jack and Gideon. Chuey thought about his last moments with Ryder and kick started his breathing again. "I don't know," Chuey replied as if he didn't care at all. He reached close to Garth, so he could get the baby and felt Garth's shirt rub against the bare skin of his arms and chest. Just then, Ryder stopped walking and looked directly over at them as if one of them had called his name.
Chuey had to make sure he hadn't accidentally said it out loud. When he was sure he hadn't, he took Duncan, snuggling the baby against his front.
"Want to make him mad?" Garth whispered, ducking his head low. "Laugh, ready? Now." Garth threw his head back and started to laugh.
Chuey, a second too late, followed suit, not knowing why he was doing it, but when was laughing a bad thing? Once he got started, it felt good. He let a few more laughs out before wiping his eyes. He looked over at Ryder from under his arm but found he wasn't there.
"Why did we do that, Garth?"
"Because he is a sanctimonious dick."
Chuey tilted his head to the side.
"He thinks he's better than anyone else," Garth explained.
Chuey liked that about Garth. He didn't make a big deal over Chuey not knowing something. He simply explained what it was and moved on.
"He looks at you like he owns you," Garth said. "I don't like it. You're my last buddy left, man."
"What about Stannis?"
"He's a tool. An okay tool, but a tool all the same."
"What kind of tool am I?" Chuey asked. He hoped to be like one of those knives that also had a screwdriver and a file attached.
Garth laughed, this time for real. "Being a tool is a bad thing."
"Tools are helpful," Chuey replied. He should know, having spent most of his life using only tools he'd made himself. It was so much easier building a home with a hammer and nails than it was with a rock and some sticks.
Garth looked down at the piece of wood he carried. He blew on the top, brushing away a few wood shavings. "You know what, you're right. Tools are helpful. I don't get that saying either. It doesn't matter though. You're cool. A little strange, but cool. Guys like Ryder, they just want to hide your coolness."
Chuey couldn't agree. Ryder hadn't seemed like he wanted to steal his coolness. He'd been concerned, worried. Up until he'd betrayed Chuey, that is. "Don't worry, Garth. He doesn't want anything from me. He made that clear."
Garth only gave him a doubtful look. "He's into the younger guys, you know. Younger guys just like you. He's probably got a whole stable of young men, chomping and slobbering over themselves to get to him. You're better without that drama, man." Garth turned his attention to the wood. He worked the knife's edge against one side before blowing on it again and pulling it farther from his face to get a better look. "Turn your head to the side. I need to get this angle right," Garth said.
"What are you carving?" Chuey asked, obeying Garth's request.
"An idiot who isn't listening to my advice," Garth deadpanned.
Chuey threw his dirty shirt at Garth. He deflected it with all the swiftness of a shifter. "Now I'm glad my padre won't let me move in with you," he said, though he was only joking.
Garth set the wood and knife down. "What do you mean? I brought the idea up to Julian a long time ago. Back when I was sure you wouldn't scalp me or cut my intestines out and wear them as a necklace."
Chuey felt simultaneously complimented and attacked. But then, that was how it was with Garth. "You want to live with me?"
Garth shrugged. "Don't whip your dick out or anything. You can't be worse than my last roommate. He did try to kill me."
Chuey crouched over Duncan, attempting to block the sound waves to his little ears. "You can't say that word. Not around the baby."
Garth blinked. "Believe me, if there is one thing that kid will know all about, it's dicks. He's got two as fathers."
Chuey felt bad for the smile on his face and even worse for the small laugh that escaped his lips. He liked Julian and Hugh, even if he didn't always show it. And he loved his padre for saving him. But it felt like, these days, there were more arguments than there were happy moments. He almost wished to go back to how things were in the beginning, when Chuey was hiding beneath furniture, wouldn't come out of the cabin and only knew a handful of words like water and nana. But Chuey's inner animal wouldn't let him go back to that even if he could. Unfortunately, his inner beast still wanted a certain biker, but maybe it would be happy with someone else?
"I'll ask Padre. I only heard them fighting about it before."
"You mean something I said caused those two civil unrest?" Garth asked with a wicked smile.
Chuey didn't respond. Ryder was back, keeping along the edge of the camp, giving Chuey and Garth a wide berth.
"We could laugh again?" Garth suggested but Chuey only shook his head sadly. He was kidding no one. His inner cat didn't want someone else. He wanted Ryder, the one man who wouldn't even look at him.
***
Thirty minutes after Ryder left, Hugh emerged from his cabin, searching for Duncan. He found Chuey still at the center table.
"Thanks for watching Duncan," Hugh said sheepishly.
"Your pants are unbuttoned," Garth commented.
Hugh hurried to do them back up before grabbing his son. "What are you making there?" Hugh asked.
Garth slipped the wood under the table. "None of your business. Why was the geriatric biker here?"
Hugh frowned. "Ryder?"
Garth snorted, likely because Hugh had known exactly who they were talking about. Chuey didn't understand the word, but thought it had something to do with Ryder's age. That was a little unfair. He wasn't young, but he also didn't seem like an old man. Not to Chuey, anyway. He was experienced. Wise. He'd know what to do in any situation. Chuey could just lie back and let Ryder show him all the amazing things he could do to his body.
The next thing Chuey knew, Garth was snapping his fingers in his face. "There you are. I thought you must have zoned out."
"I'm sorry, what?" He was surprised to see that Gideon and Jack had joined their little group.
"We were wondering if you could help us. I've got a class to teach, but we are having that party later tomorrow to celebrate Stannis and Marcy—"
"We're celebrating the success of the camp, your camp," Gideon said, interrupting his mate.
"Yes, and Ryder just told me his men were able to hunt down a pig for us, but the problem is, we need to cook it in the ground. And to do that—"
"They need a hole. Say no, Chuey, it's manual labor that they want," Garth said.
Chuey stood instead. Right about then, he could use something that got his muscles moving and made him sweat. "I do it," he replied, but then he closed his eyes and sighed. "I will do it."
Jack smiled that small, gentle smile of his. "It's okay, Chuey. I understood you."
Chuey returned the smile. If there was one thing Chuey could do, it was tell when he was around a good person, and Jack was one of the best. If he wasn't already claimed, Chuey might have given it a shot. He suspected Gideon realized that, since he never left his mate's side. He didn't need to worry, Jack clearly only had eyes for Gideon. Besides, Chuey wanted a man that could hold him. He needed someone that would make him feel safe, and if that person happened to be big and strong enough to hold him down against a mattress, then he wouldn't complain.