Page 111 of Hammer & Gavel

“Fuck you,” Oliver spat, shoving Lucas behind him. “Crawl back into whichever cesspit you emerged from.”

Patrick threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, I will. And I will sleep all the better knowing that I ruined you, Oliver Reed.”

Oliver’s mouth tugged into a spiteful grin. “Do I look ruined to you,Paddy?” Venom dripped from his every word as Lucas gnashed and snarled at his back.

“You look desperate, Ollie. I give it a month before he tires of your bullshit. Maybe two, given that you’re a semi-decent lay.”

Oliver dropped his head and bared his teeth. “You bore me.”

With that, he turned, shoving Lucas in the chest before he did anything he’d regret. That was when a glass smashed at his feet, and he suddenly realised something had hit him on the back of the head. Lucas lurched forward, cradling him against his chest as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“It’s not bleeding,” Oliver said, twisting his head back to look at the still sneering Patrick.

“No,” Lucas hissed, “But he’s about to be.” Then Lucas stepped forward and delivered one short, sharp jab to Patrick’s nose, popping it in a spray of blood. The alpha reeled backwards, clutching his face as blood poured over his lips. Then, all hell broke loose as Patrick threw himself towards Lucas in a flurry of fists. Lucas side-stepped as the ex-social worker lost his balance and tumbled forward into a table full of drinks.

Unfortunately for Patrick, it was a table of half-cut males and they looked incredibly pissed off at having their drinks tipped all over them. Patrick yelled and threw himself forward again, making a bee-line for Oliver. Oliver tutted and stuck out his foot, sending him flying into the wall.

“Shit,” Oliver hissed, realising the drunk males were rounding on Lucas in the absence of Patrick. Then there really was a brawl, as several of the males shifted—despite the signs—and those that didn’t shift were so drunk they had no idea who they were attacking. Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for other members of the public to get caught in the cross-fire.

Oliver pushed through the onslaught, ducking and dodging as fists flew towards his head. Suddenly, he felt something clamp around his shoulder, only to realise that Patrick had shifted, his fur the colour of brick dust. The alpha was on Oliver’s back, jaws gnashing as they tried to rip at his flesh. Fortunately, Oliver was faster and in the blink of an eye, he twisted around and rammed his fingers into the soft spot just behind the alpha’s ear.

He reeled back, arms and legs spasming as he was forced to shift back. The reprieve was short-lived, as a—very naked—Patrick drew back his fist with a feral expression, making him look half-mad.

So, Oliver did the only thing his brain could fathom in the split second he had to react. He brought his knee up and smashed it into Patrick’s groin with a sickening thud. The alpha howled, face twisted with pain as he stumbled backwards into a wiry man with thin features and narrow eyes. He caught Patrick’s arm, flicking his head toward the nearby exit.

Oliver snarled, teeth bared as he ran towards Patrick again. His eyes momentarily focused on the other man’s leather jacket and low-rise jeans, gaze falling on the purple waistband of his boxers. He halted mid-sprint as he saw there, slightly to the left, was a little pink jellyfish.

Eyes widening, Oliver lunged forward again, shoving Patrick aside as he grabbed for the man’s arm. They locked eyes for the briefest of moments, and Oliver knew he was looking at the man that abused Alfie. But then the air shifted, and he heard Lucas growling as a chair clattered against the wall. So, dropping his head, he leant forward and gave the man a cold, hard glare before turning back to rescue his mate.

I’m coming for you.

The three ofthem sat on the curb, soaking wet and pissed off. Lucas had a bloody nose,again, Oliver had bloodier knuckles, and Pember just looked ill. During the frenzy, someone had punched the fire alarm and set off the sprinklers, which stopped the fighting—albeit too well—as the entire club poured out onto the street.

Oliver glanced up at the CCTV camera overlooking the front entrance, and then at another pointing towards the car park. If his memory served, The Octane Club had cameras all over the place and he’d be able to track Patrick and the jellyfish man as they left. Even better if they fled in a car.

Then a horrible realisation set in, of just how fucked up the whole situation was. Patrick had been—until recently—a social worker that covered many different parts of the UK. He worked for some of the most deprived local authorities across the country, and had access to some of the most damaged and abused children.The most broken of all the biscuits.And now it seemed he was friends with child abusers?

Oliver’s mind reeled as they walked back to the car, and he barely noticed as Pember stopped every few metres to vomit.

“Reed,” Lucas said, pointing at the omega as he hunched over a nearby bin. What should have been a five-minute walk turned into twenty, and Oliver used the time to tell the alpha everything.

“Does Patrick know you know about the jellyfish connection?” Lucas asked, guiding Pember by his skinny arm.

Oliver shook his head. “No. I told him Alfie hadn’t made any disclosures.” Thank Christ he’d been feeling spiteful enough to keep him in the dark.

“Good. That’s good,” Lucas said, rubbing the back of Oliver’s neck. “We need to be careful here, Reed. If they come to learn what we know?—”

“They could pack up shop and move on again.”

“Exactly. If we want that CCTV we’ll have to be discreet about it. In fact, I don’t think the boss will want us anywhere near it, to tell you the truth.”

Oliver nodded. “I know. I know.” Sighing, he turned to the still-vomiting Pember. “You okay, buddy?” Pember groaned in response. “You sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”

“I’m sure,” he said, spitting out a glob of saliva before heaving again.

Oliver patted his back sympathetically. “Think you can make it to the car? Because I’m freezing my tits off out here.”

“Y-Yeah, but drive slowly. I don’t think my stomach can handle much more.”

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