Page 3 of Dodging Bullets

It was a command; that much I could tell, but I didn’t understand why my body went lax like I was floating in one of the communal baths. Maneuvering my body, the Alpha strapped me in carefully. Just like that, my heart rate slowed, my muscles untensed, and my eyes got heavy. Something about this Alpha even began to feel safe.

“Sleep,”he whispered, and no matter how hard I fought against the command, no matter how horrifying I thought being unconscious around these people was, I slipped into darkness.

I was being betrayed by my own body now.

Two

Rio

“Come here, Pretty-Pretty, so I can wring that scrawny neck.”

Not that long ago, I could have sat on my couch with a beer and not been threatened by a psychotic chicken. Those days were long gone. We’d been bamboozled by the Omega who ran an animal rescue, but I had to admit, he made my Beta Max really happy. Maybe a foul-mouthed parrot from a crackhouse was what our Pack had needed.

I looked over at the gray bird that sat on a large perch in the corner of the room. “RUFIOOOOO,” he screamed at an ear-piercing level, and I sighed.

Maybe not.Fucking Rufio.

Max walked in, wearing dark cargos and a black tshirt. He had his contacts in, and his hair was slicked back by his fingers. Walking over to the African Gray, he cooed, “You’re the cleverest boy, Rufio.”

“Where’s my money, cocksucker?” the bird replied in an ominously low voice.

Max just scratched the bird’s head affectionately. “Step on. You have to go back to bed while we’re out.”

The damn bird climbed onto Max’s arm, like a well-trained dog. We had a giant cage in what had once been a mudroom, but was now filled with more enrichment toys than a toddler’s bedroom. While the bird and I were still feeling each other out, Rufio had decided he was devoted to my Beta Packmate, and Max seemed happier than he had in a long time. Caring for something else had really made a difference.

I had to give it to Otillie-James—she was good. I guess if you were an animal rescuer, you were always on the lookout for good homes. She hadn’t seemed too worried that we had more blood on our collective hands than some armies.

Jealousy surged up in my chest. Not because I wanted Otillie-James, but because my buddy Lance had everything I’d ever wanted but couldn’t have. Not in good conscience, anyway. An Omega. A functioning Pack.

Max came back into the living room, his face serious once more. “Ready?”

Uncurling from the couch, I nodded. Maybe Lance was right. Maybe doing this mission would help us get some good karma, blot out some of the red stains that still spotted our hands after all this time, and fate might find us worthy of matching with an Omega.

When Lance had come to us about a rescue mission to shut down an animal cruelty case, we’d been quick to agree. Some douchebag was farming out rescue animals to illegal fighting rings as bait animals—and probably worse—and I had no hesitation shutting this fucker down permanently. Even better would be to bury him in a shallow grave in a ravine somewhere, where no one would ever find his body.

But Lance had said he’d ensure that the guy would get his legal comeuppance, and that was good enough, I guess.

Walking to Max’s SUV, I climbed in, pushing down the anxiety of being in a car. It had taken me a long time to be ableto sit in a vehicle again, but we were working through it. And by we, I meant me and my VA-appointed fucking therapist.

My therapist, August, was tough as nails, because no matter how uncooperative I was, he’d just kept gently nudging at the edges of my wounds until they were healing over, and I hadn’t even noticed. Unfortunately for him, I was riddled with wounds, so not even decades of therapy could fix me. There was no me left. There was just a shadow of who I was.

“We’re meeting Lance at a bar on the outskirts of the city. I’ll get us the information we need and we’ll take it from there.” It was rough as far as plans went, but if anyone could get us information, it was Max.

I looked at my Packmate. Our bond had been shut down for years now. I’d closed it as soon as I’d been taken—I shut the door on that memory before it crippled me. But I wasn’t mad that our bond was broken; I’d do anything to keep this darkness that festered inside me from him. The other option was something I already struggled to live with.

Not for the first time, I considered setting Max free the only way I knew how.

Not tonight, though. Tonight, the animals needed me.

We pulled around the back of a bar that looked like it needed to be shut down by the health inspectors, and probably thoroughly hosed down. Maybe burned to the ground. The paint was peeling, the sign was barely hanging on by one rusted bolt, and as I climbed from the SUV, the scent of old piss burned my nose.Fucking disgusting.

Max’s eyes bounced around, looking for threats, gathering information. “I hope you’re up to date on your tetanus boosters,” he muttered. He scrunched his nose, then wiped the expression from his face, giving me a crooked grin instead. His goofball expression. Somehow, it took him from a near-twenty-six-year-old veteran to an awkward teen whose balls had barely dropped, in the space of fifteen seconds.

It was why he’d been such a good intelligence agent. A spy.

There was no security at the door, so we just wandered in. I could see Lance in the back corner, and we stepped over broken glass and old food to get to him. Lance lifted his chin at me and fist-bumped Max.

Max smiled down at him. A real smile this time. “Love looks good on you, my friend.” He was right; Lance looked better than I’d ever seen him. I slid into the booth with my back to the wall, Max moving in beside me.

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