Page 14 of Strays
Lowson turns to me. “Larsens, until the Full Use-of-Force Board makes a determination, you’re benched. Admin hold. You clock in, clock out, and stay visible in the building.”
I nod. We knew this was coming.
I don’t mind the standard protocol after an OIS — Officer-Involved Shooting. And since we’re strays, we get the full treatment: psychological evaluations, Internal Affairs interviews, blood panels, full medical workups. All of it just to prove we’re still functioning as a controlled pack. That part I can live with.
What I hate is being stuck in the station, crammed into this shoebox with too many walls and too many assholes.
I’ve just sat down at my desk after briefing when Preston Moles drags a chairover and drops it in front of me like he owns the place.
“So,” he says. “I heard you guys found yourselves a golden pussy. Gonna turn you into real boys now, huh?”
His voice alone makes me want to punch him. On the table beside me, Jay shifts his weight slightly, eyes locked on Moles. Shane doesn’t move, but I catch his hand curling into a fist on the edge of his desk. But we’re not about to screw things up over a waste of air like him.
“Get off my table, Moles,” I growl.
“Oh, I don’t think so.” He leans in, face way too close. “I wanna know how it works. Three big guys for one girl… all her holes must be real loose to fit all of you.”
I clench my jaw. I know exactly what this is. Balls has probably already made it clear we’re fair game, giving every bastard in the building the green light to poke at us until we snap and sink our own ship.
I exhale slowly. This is how it’s going to be for the next few weeks, but we’ve been through worse, and if I let it get to me, he wins.
We usually ignore guys like him, but when it gets to this level, silence becomes a challenge and he’ll just keep escalating. I have to be smart on this one, so I play the game.
I meet his eyes. “Yeah. Just like your mama’s. Last night she took all three of us just fine.”
His face turns red instantly. “You’ve got some nerve talking about my mother with your filthy mouth!”
“Then get off my table,” I reply. “And you won’t have to hear anything from it.”
But he doesn’t move. Of course he doesn’t. He wants the reaction.
“Tell me, Larsen,” he says, his voice lower. “What’s it like to fuck a bitch so thirsty she needs three dicks to stay satisfied?”
Jay’s fingers drum once on the desk, a nervous tell that he wants this over now.
I take another deep breath and force my fists to unclench. “You tell me,” I reply. “I heard your wife needs even more than that.”
That does it. He lunges and punches me right in the face. It hurts, but I know he isn’t strong enough to cause any real damage. I glance at my brothers, and they are both tense, posture stiff, but they stay in their chairs; they know I led Moles to this.
“You piece of shit!” Moles shouts, panting.
I just stare at him calmly. “Officer Moles,” I say, loud enough for the room. “You approached my table and assaulted me. As the station cameras can confirm, I didn’t respond with force. You done? Or should I press charges?”
“You fucking dog—!”
He starts forward again, but two officers grab him and pull him back. Theyknow he’s crossed the line, even with a stray aegis.
Maybe after this, pushing our buttons will seem a little less fun for the rest of them.
The day drags by after that, painfully slow. I give desk work half my attention, with the rest of my brain four weeks ahead, obsessively thinking about how the match meeting’s gonna go.
We’re not allowed any information about the nyra. Not her name, not where she lives, nothing. It’s a rule of the program to make it harder for a pack to hunt down and stalk a nyra after rejection.
I understand the reason for the rule, but still, I can’t stop thinking about her. What she smells like. What she looks like. What kind of person she is.
By the end of our shift, I’m so distracted I give up entirely on reviewing my paperwork and spend the last half hour browsing the Matching Center’s webpage. I’m looking for anything: what happens after the match meeting, what the next steps are if she really is our scent-mate. But there’s nothing there. Jay had already squeezed all the useful info out of it.
When we finally clock out, it feels like a release.
