Wild Wolf
If Paul had a weakness, it was in being too easily coerced. He tended to believe in people stronger than he was, and he let them talk him into things. This was why he’d been joyriding in a car with his friends when an accident had occurred that had sent Paul to prison. In prison, he’d been bullied by Sam Flores until an even bigger bully convinced Paul to trust him.
Ben could be fine, or he could be shady. Paul wasn’t the best judge of character, unfortunately.
“I’ll get back to you,” Misty said. “Now, I have a hugely busy afternoon ahead of me, as you can probably guess.”
“I’m sorry about what happened,” Ben said. “All of it. But I get it.” He lifted a sticky note from the top of her pad, grabbed a pen from her pen holder, and scribbled a number on it. “This is me. Call me when you decide—or about anything. Just remember, McNeil needs you. You can save him, but it has to be your choice.”
He stuck the yellow note in front of her, dropped the pen, gave Misty a nod, and left the office, touching his fist to Paul’s on the way out.
Paul closed the door. He faced Misty with the defiance he’d learned as he’d changed from scared teenager to a young man who’d had to grow up overnight.
“He’s legit, Misty.”
Misty spread her hands on her desk. “Where did you meet him?”
“Told you. Through my parole officer. Ben’s rehabilitated. Is doing well for himself.”
“What does he do?”
“Construction work mostly. But he knows what he’s talking about.” He gave her the little smile that reminded her of the young Paul who’d been taken away. “I wouldn’t have believed him either if I hadn’t met the Shifters and Reid. If he can help, listen to him.”
Misty lifted her hands. “How did he get in touch with you? And how did he know about what happened to me, and Graham? That’s what’s bugging me. What did you tell him?”
“Not much. He called me this morning, said he’d heard about Flores, and you and Graham getting stuck in the desert. That wouldn’t be hard to figure out, if one of Flores’s boys talked about it. Ben hears a lot about the criminal world.”
“I can see that, but what about the spells? And the Fae?”
Paul shrugged. “I have no idea, but he helps people. That I do know.”
He looked earnest, pleading. Misty let out a quiet breath. “I won’t dismiss him out of hand.” Misty’s instincts were telling her to, but she’d seen things in the last year to make her doubt her instincts. “But I need to talk to Graham first.”
Paul relaxed and gave her a nod. “Sure. Thanks, Misty.”
Paul really didn’t need to thank Misty when he was trying to do her a favor, but she understood. “Now get out of my office, kid,” she said, growling the banter they’d always used to use. “You’re distracting me.”
Paul gave her a grin and walked out, a swagger in his step.
As soon as he closed the door, Misty picked up her cell phone and punched Graham’s number. He was near the top of her favorites, right after her mother in Los Angeles. How pathetic was that?
Graham didn’t answer, and a recorded voice came on to tell Misty that the number couldn’t be reached. That worried Misty enough to call Cassidy, who told her Graham and Eric had left together on Shifter business.
“Tell him to call me,” Misty said. “It’s important.”
Cassidy promised to, then hesitated. “You all right?”
“Not really. Cass, can you or Diego find out all you can about a man called Ben . . .” Misty picked up the sticky note, “. . . Williams. I have his phone number if that helps.” She read it off.
“Sure. Who is he?”
“I have no idea. He might be fine. But I just want to know.”
“We’ll check him out.” Another pause. “If you need to talk, Misty, you know you can always call me.”
“Thanks. I think if I talk right now though, I’ll end up blithering or crying. I need to keep it together.” As she’d done her whole life.
“I get it,” Cassidy said. “Let me know.”
Misty hung up and sat a long time staring at the name and number on the sticky note. What she knew and didn’t know wrapped around each other, tangling with her emotions and making her slightly sick to her stomach. Or maybe she’d had too much green sauce at lunch.
Pressing the note back to her desk, Misty left the office. “Xav,” she said, approaching him where he was helping his guys lift shelves back onto brackets. “What did you think of the guy who just left here? Ben, Paul’s friend.”
Xav’s dark stare fixed on her, and his end of the shelf sagged. “What guy?”
“Shorter than you, hefty, dark eyes, tatts. With my brother?”
“I saw your brother, but no one else. When was this?”
“A few minutes ago. Right before Paul came out of my office.”
Xav’s focus sharpened. “I didn’t see anyone. Before or after. And I’ve been watching.”
“Oh.”
“Damn it.” Xav handed his end of the shelf to one of the other security men and moved away, taking out his phone as he stalked through the back to the alley.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"Would you all calm down?” Graham roared. “I can’t hear myself think.”
Dougal had been wolf by the time he got home, sitting on the floor of Graham’s still-trashed kitchen, his muzzle lifted in howls. Nell, the she-bear who lived next door to Eric, was trying to get him to calm down, her voice as loud as Dougal’s howling. Nell, a grizzly, was a big woman, and she could yell.