15. Underhanded Encounters

FIFTEEN

UNDERHANDED ENCOUNTERS

“Ollie?” Patrick’s tone sounded mildly amused. Hearing his name snapped Oliver back to the present, because he’d barely noticed that he’d begun to disassociate from the call. He wanted to say ‘ fuck off you disgusting twat, ’ but something about hearing the alpha’s voice again made him want to crawl into a dark hole and never come out. Thankfully, he thought better of both options as he caught Lucas’ eye. The alpha gazed down at him with a raised brow, waiting for the conversation to play out.

Oliver swallowed and cleared his throat. “Mr Coletta,” he said, his own tone overly bright and business-like. “What can I do for you?”

Lucas turned back towards the kettle, though kept his head tilted towards the conversation. Quite suddenly, and unexpectedly, Oliver felt like the weight of a thousand hippos were pressing down onto his shoulders, as he stared up at the alpha who had asked to be his future, whilst listening to the nightmare of his past. It was a damned good job he was sitting down, otherwise he might have toppled over from the pounding in his skull.

“So it is you,” Patrick said, with a hint of disbelief. “When I saw your name on Alfie’s case notes, I thought it was too good to be true. How’re you?”

“What can I do for you?” Oliver repeated, refusing to be drawn in to a conversation.

“Ollie, don’t be like that. We haven’t spoken in so long.” Oliver dearly, dearly , hoped Lucas couldn’t hear the conversation, but he turned down the volume just to be sure.

“Mr Coletta, I’m a little busy at the moment. Could you send me an email?” Lucas turned around at that, a deep frown spreading over his dark eyebrows.

“Why are you being so formal, Ollie? Is it a bad time?”

“Yes.”

“What are you doing?”

None of your fucking business.

“I’m in a meeting.”

“A meeting? Who with?”

Oliver let out a long breath as he tipped back in his chair. He and Patrick had done this dance hundreds of times—the demanding, the suspicion, the possessive fucking questions. It had been draining back then, even when he thought he was in love with the man.He no longer had the patience to deal with the childish back and forth that had plagued their relationship since the beginning. In fact, he barely had the patience for the unexpected phone call. So, as he swallowed the rapidly forming lump in his throat, he repeated, “Please send me an email.”

Patrick snarled down the phone. “An email? I’m not sending you a fucking email Ollie, you’ll speak to me like a civilised human being.”

His eyes really did glaze over then—that was, until Lucas gently tugged the phone out of his hand.

“Hello? This is Detective Sergeant White.” There was a pause, then, “Mr Coletta, DC Reed’s tied up at the moment, can I help you with something? No. No. Yes. We’ll have to run it past our Inspector. Yes. That’s good. I’m glad you understand.”

Oliver should have hated that. He was a grown fucking man that was perfectly capable of dealing with pushy bastards. However, as his jaw tensed and his knee bounced, it became quite clear that Patrick fucking Coletta still set his nerves on edge. Especially when another heatwave could rear its head at any moment. So, instead of grabbing the phone back, he sighed and stretched his legs under the table.

Lucas’ phone started ringing. And ringing. And ringing. The alpha handed it to him as Matteus’ name flashed up on the screen. Oliver frowned and took the phone. “Matty, what’s wr?—”

“It’s him, Ollie. It’s Patrick. He’s the new social worker for Helena and Alfie.” His brother sounded genuinely distressed as the words tumbled out.

Oliver’s stomach dropped. “Y-Yes, I know Matty. Just calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Ollie!”

Rising to his feet, Oliver strode out of the kitchen and into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. It was almost a relief to have something else to focus on. “Matty, please. It’s okay, it’s all okay.”

“It’s not fucking okay. I felt sick after lunch yesterday so had to go home. Nancy came into the office this morning and started talking about the new red-haired social worker from Ireland and I knew it was him.”

It was then that Oliver thanked the Father, the Son and the Holy fucking Spirit for Matteus’ morning sickness, because what the fuck would have happened if they’d crossed paths at the police station? Matteus would have lamped him into next week, that’s what.

“I know, Matty. I know.”

“You know? When the fuck did you find out, Ollie? And why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was after Alfie’s interview. Shirley gave us his business card. I just… kinda buried my head in the sand.”

“For-fucks-sake Oliver! Does Lucas know?”

“He’s on the phone to him as we speak.”

“Oh my fucking God. Wait, did you tell him about what happened?”

“Some of it. He doesn’t know it was Patrick.”

Matteus sighed, suddenly sounding unnervingly calm. “Good. That’s good, Ollie. I’m proud of you for opening up to him. But wait—what the hell are they talking about?”

Oliver sighed and rubbed his chin. “I have no idea. Patrick called me, then Lucas took the phone and now I’m talking to you.”

“Wait, he called you ? Block his fucking number Ollie, he’s got no right to be contacting you.”

“Relax, it was on my work phone. And he does have a right to contact me because he’s the kids’ social worker, and I’m coordinating the interviews, remember?”

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit. What the hell are we going to do?”

“ We aren’t going to do anything. You’re going to make yourself a nice cup of decaffeinated tea and sit down. I’ll figure out how to handle Patrick, even if Nancy has to pick up the slack for a while.”

“Decaf tastes like shit, and Nancy has annual leave next week. So, answer me that , brother.”

Oliver sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “You really enjoy making things difficult for me, don’t you, brother ?”

“Not at all, you prat. I just… I just can’t see you go through that again. Please, please promise me you’ll stay away from him.”

“Yes, I promise. Can I go now? I have a massive backlog of interviews to catch up on.”

“ Interviews ? Ollie, you’re in heat. You’re supposed to be enjoying this time with your mate, not working!” Oliver grimaced at the word ‘mate,’ because despite everything, the concept felt completely alien. Huffing, he turned back towards the door.

“Yes, yes, it’s been very enjoyable, but I’ve got to get back to work, eventually.”

With that, the conversation ended, and Oliver headed back out into the hallway. Just as he stepped over the threshold, he came face to face with Lucas’ chest. His hand was outstretched as though he had been reaching for the door handle.

“Reed,” he said, pushing him back into the bedroom. Oliver let out a small whimper as he found his back pressed against the wall, Lucas’ hand splayed next to his head. His voice was deep and rumbling as he spoke. “Reed, I never. Ever . Want you to find yourself alone with that man. Do I make myself clear?”

Oliver’s eyes went wide as he stared up at the alpha, the bluntness of the command making his hairs stand on end. “W-Why do you say that?” He stuttered, cold dread filling his veins. He’d taken a risk telling Lucas. A risk that he was regretting with every passing moment.

“Because something about that man sets my teeth on edge. The way he speaks, it’s just—I can’t explain it.”

Oliver barked out a laugh—not because the comment was humorous—but because of the sheer relief.

“You might out-rank me, sergeant , but you can’t order me to stay away from someone just because you don’t like them.” He poked Lucas in the ribs in an attempt to make light of the situation, but immediately regretted it.

“I mean it,” he replied, pulling him against his chest. His thumb rubbed the love bite that still darkened the crook of Oliver’s neck, a fading reminder of what they had already shared. Returning the embrace, Oliver pressed his face into Lucas’ t-shirt, inhaling the masculine scent that seemed to permeate even the most blackened parts of his soul.

“I think the heat is ending,” he whispered against Lucas’ shoulder.

He knew the heat had ended the moment he heard Patrick’s voice. The spark of joy and contented bliss shrivelled, leaving just another dark hollow inside his already damaged heart. Estrus had a funny way of doing that—protecting the host when danger was afoot.

“Come here,” Lucas said, pulling him towards the bed.

Oliver was about to protest, to say that he really didn’t feel like another round of sex, no matter how mind-bogglingly good it had been. But Lucas only tugged off their clothes, pulled back the blankets, and nestled Oliver between his arms. “No more interviews,” he said, kissing the top of his head. “Just you, me, and sleep until the morning.”

And Oliver couldn’t really argue with that.

The following morning, Oliver found himself in an abysmal mood as he stood in the police station car park. Post-estrus catharsis was, unfortunately, a fact of life for omegas and sigmas alike. He and Matteus had gotten into some blazing arguments when their cycles aligned, and poor Julian acted as referee on more than one occasion.

“Are you sure this isn’t too soon?” Lucas said, leaning out the car window to look up at Oliver. His hair was messy, and the sunglasses had made a return.

Oliver took a deep breath and straightened his tie. “Yes. I’d rather get back in the saddle. I’ve lost enough time as it is.” He felt Lucas tickle the back of his thigh, and he turned to look down at the alpha. “Are you sure the Met aren’t going to have an issue with you wasting your hotel room?”

The tip of Lucas’ tongue appeared between his teeth as he wet his lower lip. “We could stay there together,” he said, finger drawing a circle across Oliver’s waistband. “Pretend we’re on holiday. It is a five star, after all.”

Despite his terrible mood, Oliver just about managed a snort of laughter as he slapped the alpha’s hand away. Bending down to rest his forearms on the windowsill, he hooked a finger over the bridge of Lucas’ sunglasses and drew them halfway down his nose. “I think they might have even more of an issue paying for two. One of which isn’t even their officer.”

Lucas grinned, the tips of his canines grazing his lower lip. “It’s a cross-border project. We’ve got to fit in team-building along the way.”

“I don’t think they meant that kind of team-building,” Oliver replied, flicking the alpha between the eyebrows. “They were probably expecting you to take us out for a game of crazy-golf or something.”

A high-pitched whistle from across the car park abruptly ended their conversation. Oliver sighed as he turned around to see Nancy and Harry standing near a cluster of marked police cars. Nancy waved enthusiastically, whilst Harry shrank back into his oversized duffle coat.

“Here we fucking go,” Oliver groaned, pushing himself to stand.

“Hey,” Lucas said, grabbing his elbow. Without warning, he yanked Oliver back down and placed a chaste kiss to the side of his mouth. “For luck,” he said, before releasing his arm.

“We’re at work,” Oliver replied through gritted teeth. Lucas only grinned and raised the window.

Hefting the laptop bag over his shoulder, Oliver turned on his heel and strode towards the police station. If he was going to be the source of office gossip, he was damn well going to follow his grandma’s age old advice. Teeth and tits. Chest out, big smile, and walk.

“Well, then.” Nancy drawled, as he drew closer. The overly-bright tone of her voice quickly destroying his confidence. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, DC Reed?”

“Good morning, DC Purslow. DC Clarke,” he replied, giving the two of them a curt nod.

“Finally going to coordinate some victims for me, Ollie?”

He was going to come back with a comment about how someone had to. Because Nancy couldn’t coordinate her way out of a paper bag. But the words died on his tongue when he saw the two betas staring at his mouth.

“Ollie… what’re those?” Harry said, taking a half step towards him.

Nancy just glanced up at him, then back at his fangs, then craned her head to watch the British Racing Green BMW exiting the car park. She gave a slow, painfully smug nod, and said, “So are you and the sarg?—”

“No.” Oliver cut her off.

“But you have fangs.”

“Also no.”

“I’ve met plenty of short alphas.”

“Still no , Nance.”

Harry gasped. “Wait, does that mean you can?—”

Nancy laughed, “Don’t get your hopes up, treacle. Didn’t you see who just dropped him off?”

Harry’s mouth flopped open. “W-Wait, so are you and the sergeant?—”

“How’re the fish?” Oliver replied, holding out a hand to usher the betas towards the police station.

“Well, seeing as you’re so concerned,” Nancy began, “Betsy appears to be pregnant. I blame George, personally. And Kim got sucked into the water filter. Did you mean to turn it up to maximum power when you cleaned the tank?”

“Don’t look at me,” Oliver said, holding up his hands. “I left everything exactly as it was. I blame Martin. He’s always messing with the settings.”

“Mhm, classic deflection, DC Reed.”

He’d missed Nancy more than he’d realised. Her confidence, her dirty laugh, and her incredible knack for taking his mind off things. In fact, he’d missed walking into the dingy little police station every morning, even if the Child Protection Unit currently stank worse than a crack den.

“Fuck me,” Oliver said, covering his nose as he held open the door.

“S-Sorry,” Harry replied, ducking under Oliver’s arm. “You can blame me for that one. I ran some analytics on the vehicle software. Uncovered five cannabis and two Love Dust factories from the data.”

“Wow. Nice work,” Oliver nodded.

“Thanks,” he replied, noticeably blushing under Oliver’s praise. “It’s not the result we were looking for, but at least we’re building up a picture of the gang’s activities.”

“Exactly,” Oliver replied, patting him on the shoulder.

“There he is!” Martin called from the doorway. “Long time no see, dude!” Like the other betas, his eyes immediately dropped to Oliver’s mouth. “O-Oh,” he stuttered, “Oh, Ollie…that’s…er…new.”

Oliver cocked a brow as he looked over at the beta because now, he too, was blushing. Whilst an alpha’s fangs garnered a certain level of sex appeal—something about the biting and the claiming—he had never expected to find himself on the receiving end of such a reaction.

“Er, yeah. Listen guys, can we just move past this,” he said, gesturing to his mouth. “It happened. They’re here. I’m still the same person.”

The betas stared at him for a long moment, before a sharp shout cut through the awkward silence. “Reed! The boss wants to see you.”

“Oop, good luck,” Nancy said, sliding a few things into her bag.

Striding down the corridor, Oliver walked with as much confidence as he could muster. Teeth and tits. Teeth and tits. He was ashamed to admit that he rather enjoyed how the beta’s side-stepped around him, and the alpha’s gave a respectful nod as they passed.

Dear God, now he understood why the alpha’s all walked around with an air of arrogance. Checking himself, he dropped his shoulders and resumed his normal walking gait, because he did not want to explore that rabbit hole.

Drawing up to the Inspector’s office, he gave the door a soft knock. His stomach dropped as he heard laughter coming from within. It was a unique laugh that held a sharp edge, which he knew all too well. The sound ricocheted through Oliver’s whole body—a feeling akin to having a firework shoved up his arse. He was about to bolt back down the corridor, but the Inspector opened the door and ushered him inside. The familiar scent of tobacco and tea-tree soap hit him like a freight train, and he had to stop himself from recoiling as he looked up at the auburn-haired social worker.

Patrick stood where Lucas had stood on the day they met, but the feeling in Oliver’s gut was altogether different. They stared at one another for a long moment, and Oliver’s jaw clenched so tightly it was a wonder he didn’t break his teeth.

“Ah, DC Reed,” the Inspector said, glancing between them. “This is Patrick Coletta, Alfie and Helena’s new social worker.”

“We’ve met,” Patrick said, his mouth splitting into a too-wide and too-sharp smile.

The Inspector nodded and indicated for them to sit. “Have you really? My, my DC Reed. First DS White, now the social worker. You don’t half get around.” Oliver’s eyes dragged to the Inspector, entirely unsure if he knew what he was saying. “You must be more sociable than I realised!” Callahan smiled and spread his hands. Was he playing the comment off as a joke, or—it must be a joke. Definitely a joke right?

Either way, Oliver cleared his throat and looked out the window. “How can I help, boss?” He remained tight-lipped so as not to draw attention to his fangs.

“Well,” Callahan began, steepling his fingers. “I just wanted to introduce the two of you, as I know relations between the police and social services have been… strained, for quite some time. Low staffing, high workload, etcetera. But as you’ve already met, I’ll skip the pleasantries.”

Yes. Yes, please skip every last one.

“DC Reed, Mr Coletta has come to me with a suggestion for how we might move forward with young Alfie.”

Oliver’s gaze slid to Patrick, his lip involuntarily twitching at the alpha’s smug expression. He had the distinct feeling that whatever the Inspector was about to ‘suggest’ was the same thing Patrick had tried to discuss with him and Lucas the previous day. Underhanded bastard had bypassed a sergeant just because he didn’t get his own way.

“Yes?” Oliver replied, giving Patrick a venomous look.

“We think it would be prudent if you, Mr Coletta, and Alfie underwent a diffusion day. I understand from Patrick that the boy has opened up to his counsellor, and that he might be ready to disclose further details. Albeit, away from a formal police setting.”

“Indeed,” Patrick said, nodding triumphantly. “Alfie talks about you all the time. He’s constantly asking when he’s going to see Ollie again.”

Oliver very much doubted that. He’d only met the boy once, but the meeting had almost sent him spiralling into a trauma induced breakdown. Not only that—the switch in Patrick’s persona was unnerving him to such a degree that his knee began to bounce under the table.

Diffusion days were not uncommon in the child protection world. Oliver had arranged them several times to help build trust with a child, to allow them the space to make disclosures whilst in a less stressful environment. He had been to all sorts of places with Helena Cartwright, the most memorable being an ice skating rink where Nancy had followed along behind them, taking notes whilst trying to remain upright.

“And just where were you thinking of holding this ‘diffusion day’?” Oliver said through clenched teeth.

“Well, Alfie has expressed an interest in the National Aquarium,” Patrick replied, drumming his fingers on the Inspector’s desk.

The National Aquarium. Of course, it had to be the National fucking Aquarium. The place where he and Patrick had their first official date all those years ago.

Oliver almost scoffed. “And who’s going to be my second?” He glanced back at the Inspector.

“Well, Patrick feels that too many people will spook the lad. So he’s suggested that it just be the three of you.”

Fuck off.

“Right,” Oliver replied, voice quiet. Because if he wasn’t certain Patrick was manipulating the situation before, he certainly was now. “And when do you propose to do this?”

“Tomorrow,” Patrick replied, giving him a smile so soft that it made his insides turn. He could refuse. He could always refuse. But then he’d have to explain to the Inspector about his and Patrick’s shared past, and all the shit he’d been through six years prior. Callahan hadn’t been his Inspector back then, and he really didn’t feel like dredging it all up again.

And besides, what was one day? He could manage one day, for Alfie. However, that he was even considering it felt like a betrayal to Matteus and Lucas, which was why he felt like a total piece of shit when he finally said, “Fine.”

“Lovely,” Patrick said, clapping his hands. “I’ll pick you up at nine.”

“No,” Oliver said. “I’ll collect you and Alfie from the foster placement.” Because, although Oliver felt like a piece of shit, he wasn’t fucking stupid.

“But I have a car seat,” Patrick countered, the illusion of calm faltering as his mouth twitched.

“So do I,” Oliver replied. “Nine o’clock, outside the foster placement.”

Patrick’s eyebrow twitched. “Fine.”

With that, they both stood. “DC Reed,” Callahan called when he turned to leave. “A moment please. Mr Coletta, are you able to show yourself out?”

When Patrick finally left, Oliver slumped back into his seat. “Glad to have you back,” the Inspector said, a warm smile crossing his face.

“Thank you, boss.”

“Are you and DS White quite well now?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Well, I must say, Oliver, I think the two of you make a fine pair.”

The comment should have made him blush, but his mood had fallen so low it was practically in the station basement. The Inspector gave a small chuckle when Oliver didn’t reply. “I know having a mate might seem overwhelming at first, but I truly believe this will be good for you. In fact, I think it could be the making of you, Oliver.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Sir?”

Callahan glanced at the ceiling, then back at him. “Well… how can I put this? You are an excellent detective, and you were always a stellar response officer back when you were in uniform. But it’s obvious you have some confidence issues. I think having a mate, especially one such as DS White, could mellow you out a bit. Make you a little less abrasive. More demure.”

Oliver scoffed. Abrasive? Demure ? He would describe himself as many things, but never abrasive. But then he thought back to how he had spoken to Callahan during the last briefing. And how he had treated Shirley Spencer. And how he had just acted with Patrick. Perhaps he was a little abrasive. Oh, who was he fucking kidding? He was more abrasive than sandpaper. The realisation did not make him feel better. In fact, it pissed him off even more knowing that the Inspector thought he needed a big strong alpha to temper his persona.

“I’m going to share some confidential information,” the Inspector continued, dipping his head in a collusionary manner. “Blake’s mate is pregnant. It’s early days, but he has indicated that he would like to take a career break for at least a year. Now, Oliver, I know you’ve passed the sergeant’s exam—and with flying colours, so I hear. As such, I was going to suggest supporting your application for an acting position. And who knows, you might even become a substantial sergeant within a year.”

The suggestion should have filled him with pride. It was true that he’d thought about promotion, he wouldn’t have sat the sergeant’s exam if he hadn’t, but he’d always hesitated about making it a reality. However, the timing of the suggestion didn’t sit right with him.

“Sir, could I ask a question?”

Callahan dipped his head, “Of course.”

“And can I ask you to be frank in your answer?”

“Always.”

“Are you only suggesting promotion because you believe DS White is my mate? Would you still support my application if he wasn’t?”

“Isn’t DS White your mate, Oliver? Hasn’t he given you the bite?”

“Please, sir. The question.”

Callahan frowned before leaning back in his chair. “Well, to be frank, yes, I would still support your application, but with the caveat that you complete a full psychological assessment. West Newton has never had an unmated sigma in a position of management, and I don’t think the higher-ups would want to take the risk.”

“Do alphas have to have a psychological assessment?”

Callahan shifted in his seat. “No.”

“And omegas?”

Callahan let out a laugh. “Of course.”

And there it was. The ever pervading discrimination against his sex.

“Thank you, sir,” he said, standing to leave. “You’ve made your position on the matter quite clear.”

The Inspector’s mouth opened and closed several times, but Oliver didn’t give him a chance to reply before he walked out the door. It truly was an alpha’s world, and he was just living in it.

Thankfully the staff bathroom was empty when he stormed in and splashed water across his face, and as he gripped the edge of the sink, he stared at himself in the mirror. Oliver did, for all intents and purposes, look more like an alpha than ever before. Albeit, a short one with finer features. As he peeled back his top lip to look at the fangs, he couldn’t decide if they were a blessing or a curse.

Skulking back to the office, he found Matteus sitting at his desk with a strawberry milkshake in his hand. “Ollie!” he said, springing to his feet.

Oliver sighed as Matteus threw open his arms and pulled him into a tight embrace, the tiny swell of his stomach pressing into him. He smelled different. More earthy. The sensation made him want to wrap his arms around his brother and never let him go. A natural reaction to a pregnant litter-mate, he supposed.

“Welcome back,” Matteus said, releasing him from the hug. His eyes scanned Oliver’s face, falling on the fangs protruding from his slightly open mouth. “Well, they’re nice. Very nice, actually.”

“Not you too,” Oliver replied, rolling his eyes.

“Mhm. I think your reappearance has sent the betas into a bit of a tail-spin. It’s honestly been quite comical, listening to them speak about you.”

Oliver wrinkled his nose, “Please. Say no more.”

“Embrace it, I say. Use it to your advantage.”

“Matty, that’s wrong on so many levels.”

“Why? The alphas do it every damned day. Bossing people around, using that easy-going sex appeal to get what they want.”

Oliver looked at his brother, amused by how the pregnancy hormones were making him short-tempered and loose-lipped.“Is everything okay?” He asked, leading Matteus over to the window. He opened it, letting the fresh air and mid-morning sun drift in.

“Yeah. Sorry. I just had an awful night. I don’t know why they call it morning sickness. It’s twenty-four-seven sickness. And heartburn. And acid reflux. Fuck, how am I going to last nine months, Ollie?”

Chuckling, Oliver squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “Yoga?”

“Yeah right. Can you imagine me doing the downward dog? I’d break my fucking back.”

Then they were both laughing, which surprised Oliver, given the morning he’d had. However, his laughter quickly faded as he looked out the window. Matteus followed his gaze and gasped, because standing by the entrance to the front counter was Patrick. All long lines and easy-going posture as he appeared to be embroiled in deep conversation with another, smaller male. Oliver watched the exchange with narrowed eyes, stomach dropping when he saw Patrick hand the other male a small slip of paper.

Then, as the male turned, Oliver realised with utter horror that it was Pember.