18. Cursed

EIGHTEEN

CURSED

Patrick stumbled towards the house, tripping over the threshold only for Lucas to catch the back of his coat and haul him up like a rag doll. Patrick sneered, but Lucas shoved him inside before he could make a scene. Oliver was close behind, fully intending to put a stop to whatever was about to happen. That was until Matteus clapped a hand over his shoulder, wrenching him back.

He was about to shout at his brother, but when Alfie groaned against his neck, all the fight drained out of him. “What’s he doing, Matty?” he said, face growing red from both the cold and his rising panic.

“He’s telling him to stay away. From you and the police station.”

Oliver let out a breath. “So he’s not… he’s not going to fight him?”

Lucas’ expression had been a dark and unreadable thing, but one that Patrick must have understood as he bolted for the house.

Matteus shook his head. “I hope not, otherwise we’ll all be up Shit Creek, won’t we?”

Oliver puffed out a breath and shuffled from foot to foot. “Right. Yeah. But how long are we meant to wait? Alfie’s getting cold.”

Matteus held up a hand and dropped his head. “Just give it a few minutes. We don’t know what your presence will do to the situation. When an alpha protects their mate, it can be a… tense moment.”

“But we’re not mated,” Oliver whispered. “Not officially. Neither of us have the bite.”

“I know. But I think it’s time you changed that, before things really get out of control.”

Swallowing down the rising dread, Oliver propped his chin on Alfie’s head. “It’s not something I can just decide on a whim. And I’m definitely not doing it just because Lucas found out about Patrick. Oh, and thanks very much for that, by the way.”

“Pull your head out of your backside,” Matteus whispered, jabbing Oliver’s shoulder. “This isn’t about Patrick. It’s about you getting your shit together.”

“Oh, piss off,” Oliver mouthed, rubbing Alfie’s back to try and keep him warm.

“You can dismiss me all you like, but you know I’m right.” Just then, the front door opened, making them both jump. Patrick came darting out of the house so fast it was hard to tell what was happening.

“See ya!” Matteus called, as the alpha wrenched open the door to his car.

“Fuck you!” He hissed back, before his eyes slid to Oliver. Patrick stared at him for a long moment, the look full of malice.

Matteus was about to hurl something back, when Oliver slapped his chest. “Matty, we’re police officers, not monkeys flinging s-h-i-t.”

When Lucas finally appeared in the doorway, Patrick’s car had already fled the drive. He gave Oliver a hard look, before stepping aside to allow him into the house. Oliver shivered. He’d never seen the alpha’s eyes so cold.

Alfie woke up when the warm air hit his face, and he let out a loud wail as Oliver tried to hand him over to his foster mother.

“Hey, hey! It’s okay, little guy. We’ll see each other again,” he cooed.

“Ollie!” Alfie whined, wiping his snot covered nose all over Oliver’s cheek. “Ollie, can we go to the park?”

“It’s your bedtime, sweetheart. Look, Sarah’s ready and waiting with your pyjamas.”

Alfie whimpered as Oliver placed him on his feet. “Read me a bedtime story?” He said, gripping Oliver’s trousers.

Oliver bit his lip, because fuck , his heart ached. “I don’t—I can’t, sweetheart. I’ve got to get back to work. Lucas and Matteus are waiting for me.” Alfie’s little face scrunched with displeasure. His bottom lip jutted out, before he shifted into wolf form and was nothing but streak of golden fur and discarded clothes as he bolted up the stairs.

“Sorry about that,” Sarah sighed, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Stay,” Matteus said, stepping into the house. “I’ll take the car back to the station. You come back with Lucas.”

“I… is it appropriate? I’m not sure?—”

“It’s fine, Reed.” Lucas said, tugging the car keys out of his hand and passing them to his brother. “I’ll wait in the car.”

To no one’s surprise, Alfie chose The Gruffalo for Oliver to read. However, as he lay curled within a mountain of blankets, still in wolf form, his dark eyes slowly drooped at the sound of Oliver’s voice. Oliver gently stroked his tiny muzzle, his downy fur soft under his fingertips as he quietly closed the book and placed it on the bedside table. Alfie’s paw pressed against his hand, and it was taking all of Oliver’s self-control not to scoop the boy into his arms. Instead, he leant down and placed a gentle kiss on the top of his sleeping head. He was warm, and so impossibly small.

“One day, you’re going to make a family so happy,” Oliver whispered, inhaling the scent of the boy’s yellow fur. “You’ll run like the wind into the arms of someone who cherishes you. I promise.”

Lucas stood like a spectre at the end of the driveway, his head tipping up as Oliver closed the front door. He gave him a tertiary glance but said nothing as they got into the car.

Street lamps reflected across the window, lighting up Oliver’s face every few seconds. He rested an elbow on the door of the BMW, pressing his cheek against his knuckles as he thought of Patrick’s sallow face. He had never seen the alpha so frightened, or so quiet. It was quite nice. Except, it wasn’t nice. Nothing about the situation could be construed as ‘nice.’

Lucas’ steady breathing was almost inaudible behind the roar of the engine, and they said nothing to one another during the ten minutes they’d been on the road. He’d expected the alpha to shout, or at least lecture him about not valuing his own safety. But instead, they sat in heavy, heavy silence.

Oliver opened his mouth several times to explain, but each time the coil of annoyance tightened in his gut. Because why the fuck should he explain? It really was no one’s business except his own. His pain. His torment. His decision on how best to deal with it. Was he being pig-headed? Probably.

“Did he hurt you?” Lucas finally said, soft and unsure.

Oliver’s eyes flicked to the alpha’s hand as it rested on the gearstick. “No.”

Except he had. He had hurt him, even without raising a hand.

“Did he touch you?”

Oliver scoffed, stretching his legs into the footwell. “He tried. But I threatened to break his fingers.” His flippancy had been a mistake, and a terrible misunderstanding of Lucas’ mood.

“Is this a joke to you, Reed?” he said between clenched teeth. Oliver scowled and turned his gaze back to the window. Leather strained as the alpha tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “I asked you a question. Is what we have a joke to you?”

“What do you think?” Oliver snapped, the words sounding flippant again. Swallowing, he stared down at his hands. They still held the scars from where the hospital staff had saved his life with antibiotics and blood transfusions. The callus marks on his palms from months of relying on crutches. And the blister scars across his knuckles, from his boxing gloves, as he’d thrown himself into the sport when it was all over. All those things had faded, but they’d never leave him.

Lucas let out a quiet breath. “I don’t know what to think, Reed. You say one thing, and do another. You ask me to trust you, but dive headfirst into the company of a man that hurt you. Alone.”

Oliver’s gaze trailed up the alpha’s neck, pausing over the tight line of his jaw. “I told you about the diffusion day,” he said, eyes turning back to the road.

“Yes, but you only told me half the story. Had you of been honest about who he was since the start, I could have protected you, I could have stopped?—”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” Oliver cut across him. The words were quiet but edged with something sharp.

“What?”

Oliver couldn’t bring himself to look up, to see the pain and confusion in Lucas’ eyes. “I mean I don’t need you to protect me. I don’t need you, and I don’t need Matteus, or Julian, or anyone else. The past is mine and mine alone. Do you think you can take it away? Because you can’t.”

“No, but I?—”

“You can’t.”

Silence hung between them for a long moment. The longer it went on, the heavier the lump in Oliver’s throat grew.

“Don’t be angry with Matteus,” Lucas eventually said.

Oliver scoffed. “Oh, I’m angry as hell. Thank you very much.”

“Reed, I went to him for the information after I…” the words drifted into silence.

“Yes?”

“After I saw Patrick’s police profile.”

“ What? ” Oliver said through gritted teeth. “Why were you looking at his police profile? Do you know how much fucking trouble you could get in for searching someone’s records without a policing purpose?”

“I had a policing purpose, Oliver. I went to the Inspector about my concerns before I knew about your association. He asked me to generate an intelligence package, to see if he might compromise the investigation.”

“An intelligence package? Fucking hell, Lucas! Whether or not the Inspector granted it, don’t you think it’s a bit of a conflict of interest for my new mate to be snooping into the past of an old flame? Fuck, what if professional standards catch wind of this? You and I could both lose our jobs.”

Lucas sucked his teeth as he turned the car off the main road. “At the point I generated the package, I still had no idea. It wasn’t until I?—”

“Until you what?”

“Until I looked into his previous history. I saw a West Newton crime number. Your name was linked to it. Then I stopped and informed the Inspector.”

So he’d seen it. He’d seen it all. Oliver’s bottom lip quivered, his voice growing shaky. “You had no fucking right…”

“He nearly killed you, Oliver. What I saw on the crime report was just a snippet of information. Matteus told me the rest. About how Julian nearly lost his medical licence because he tried to protect you.”

Tears burst from Oliver’s eyes at the mention of his brother-in-law. The memory of Julian being taken away in handcuffs after he nearly beat the shit out of Patrick, was just one of many he had locked away over the years. It was because—and only because—Matteus was his mate by both pack and bite that the old laws around extended pack protection prevented him from losing everything. Of course, Oliver hadn’t wanted to continue with the investigation. He’d been too weak and too confused to even consider it.

Eventually, Patrick just drifted away into obscurity for the following six years, and those six years had been enough time for him to heal. To grow strong. To trust in his own body again. Which was why, when his heat rushed forth unexpectedly, it felt like he was being betrayed all over again. He needed to ensure that his own stupidity didn’t cause harm to anyone else. Not Lucas. Not Julian, or anyone else that held a misplaced love for him. He wasn’t an omega, he didn’t need a mate or a pack to feel complete. Nor was he an alpha with the social expectation to protect their family. So, as they pulled into the underground parking, he wiped his eyes and unclipped his seatbelt.

“Do you finally see what I am, Lucas?”

Lucas’ eyebrows pinched together as he reached for Oliver’s hand. He snatched it back, tugging at the door handle.

“I’m a fucking curse. You said it yourself—I’m trouble. The Cock & Bull, the car dealership, the heat and now this . I’m a bad omen, and I won’t bring you down with me.”

“Reed, that’s not what I?—”

“It’s over, Lucas. This thing between us. It’s over.”

“No,” the alpha growled, leaning across Oliver’s legs to stop him getting out the car. Oliver ripped his arm away as he wrenched the handle.

“Yes,” he hissed, kicking open the door as he barreled out of the vehicle. He was vaguely aware of Lucas getting out the car, but he was already halfway across the car park before the alpha made it out.

“Reed!” Lucas called after him, the shout echoing around the garage. “For fuck’s sake, Oliver, I don’t think you’re a curse. I love you!”

Oliver slowly turned, unable to stop the tears streaming down his face. He smiled, but there was no joy in it. “Then you’re more of an idiot than me.”

Lucas lurched forward, one hand braced against the bonnet as he stalked to the front of the car. “Don’t come after me,” Oliver growled, his fangs bared. Because how could anyone in their right fucking mind love him?

He could barely see straight as he sprinted up the stairs to his apartment, the tears spewed out as he struggled to get the keys out of his pocket. “Fuck,” he hissed. “Fucking, fuck, fuck.”

Yanking open the door, he threw himself inside and slammed it shut behind him. Pressing his back against the door, he held his head in his hands and slid to the floor. He’d known pain. He’d known heartache, but nothing compared to what he felt in that moment. It was as though his literal heart was about to explode under the intense weight of his own misery.

It was a relief when the alpha didn’t follow, but it still took a good hour for Oliver to hear the v6 pulling away. When it did, a fresh wave of despair washed over him, and he covered his eyes to stop himself crying. Everything smelled like Lucas. Everything down to the fucking bath towels and dishcloths. He wanted to drown in it. He longed to suffocate and become completely consumed, so he would never have to face the break of day again. But those were dark, dark thoughts. The kind he’d not had in a long time.

So, peeling himself off the floor, he took off his coat, turned on the shower, and blocked Patrick Coletta’s number once and for all. He’d already decided to report him to the local authority—not for the horrible things he’d said, but because he’d said them in front of a vulnerable child. He may have appeared like a half-decent social worker, but in reality, he didn’t give two shits about the children he was supposed to protect. Not even Oliver’s own embarrassment was worth subjecting another child to that twatbag.

Groaning, Oliver stepped into the shower. He had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but at the very least, he wanted to wash away the stench of stale smoke and regret. Not bothering to dry his hair or put on pyjamas, he slumped onto the bed and embraced the numbness that was slowly spreading through his body.

It felt like a part of him had been torn away, as his and Lucas’ bond throbbed, causing his brain to flood his body with chemicals to stop it going into shock. Much liked loosing a limb. It was a strange sensation, and he felt oddly at ease with the world. Lucas would be burden free, and Alfie safe.

Except, where did that leave him? How would he move forward? The answer was obvious—he wouldn’t. He’d stay in his little one-bedroom flat and live out his days as a crazy cat man, just like he’d always planned. He’d be a wonderful uncle to Matty’s child, and that would be his lot in life.

So, pulling on his dressing gown, he padded to the kitchen and took out his laptop to write the report. His fingers were sluggish, the stress of the day having fried something in his cerebral cortex, which made stringing sentences together a monumental task. But the image of Alfie staring up at the shark tank kept him focused and guided him forward one word at a time. He worked late into the night, only checking the time when an almighty shiver ran up his spine. Shit , it was nearly two o’clock in the morning. He’d have to pull an all-nighter.