9. Business Associates

NINE

BUSINESS ASSOCIATES

“Morning, love,” Nancy drawled from her usual position by the kettle. “Nice of you to join us.”

Oliver huffed and picked up the steaming mug of tea that was already waiting for him. “Even heroes need to take a break,” he said, taking a sip of Earl Grey.

Nancy glanced at her watch. “It’s not even nine o’clock and you’re already having breakfast dates with pretty little omegas?”

Oliver shrugged and carried on drinking. The beta sucked her teeth, a small grin pinching her lips. “Well, this new care free attitude suits you, because you’ve finally got some colour back in your cheeks.” Oliver hummed as she handed him the morning’s briefing documents. “Matteus said you’ve been pretty down about the whole thing,” she continued, so Oliver ran his eyes over the text, in an attempt to avoid the conversation. “Ollie…” She tapped her ball-point pen on the top edge of the paperwork. “Are you sure you’re okay? What happened was pretty intense, even for us.”

Sighing, Oliver put down the papers. “Thanks for asking, Nance. But sometimes it’s just better to get back in the saddle.”

The beta nodded, wetting her lips. “And… the sergeant? Is everything okay between you?”

Oliver swallowed. He knew she’d bring it up, eventually. If Nancy was anything, she was a gossip first and foremost. “Yes, Nance. We talked a bit. We’re all good, but it’s better for everyone that we don’t work on the same team.”

Nancy let out a breath. “As much as I hate to admit it, I’m quite glad to hear you say that.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Ollie—I love working with you, and God knows we’ve had a laugh over the years. But what happened on the warrant, it—well, you heard it, right?”

Oliver nodded. “Yeah, it was pretty weird.”

“Weird? Weird?!” she said, leaning towards him with a look of concern. “Ollie, it was sodding terrifying. When he made that sound—it was like my whole body turned to ice. I genuinely felt like if I touched you, I’d die. And that’s not me being dramatic. I can’t speak for the alphas, but I know some of the beta’s felt that way, too.”

A rush of warmth flooded Oliver’s body, because— fuck , after almost a decade in the job, he’d finally fallen victim to office gossip.

Before they could continue the conversation, Inspector Callahan waved a hand, drawing their attention to the front of the room.

“Morning, everyone. Thank you for coming at such short notice.” A collection of nods tipped around the room. “I wanted to speak to you all, because we’ve uncovered some concerning information from the mobile phone data. Long story short, it has come to light that the dealership staff have formed an unsanctioned pack, which appears to be led by the alpha Adrian Moore.”

Hushed voices rippled around the room, several of the officers sharing concerned glances. Packs became closely monitored in the UK since the second world war, and further still following the mass production of mobile phones in the 1970s. Not to mention the Free Love era. Where once, anyone anywhere could form a pack, in the twenty first century the government—in their infinite wisdom—placed strict sanctions on when and why packs could be created. Close family members were automatically protected under old pack laws, but those with no biological relatives or the desire to commit to traditional family values… Well, there was a reason depression and suicide had soared in the last half a century.

Packs had been crucial to humanity’s survival prior to the 1900s, but technological advances saw the old ways twisted and soured into something dangerous. It was well documented that if a pack had too many members, or was saturated with one secondary sex type, they could become unpredictable with its members often acting outside of the status-quo.

Local militias controlling alpha-heavy boroughs, or omegas being forced into unwanted and incompatible matings. Simply put, humans could no longer be trusted with the privilege of large scale packs, which was why it became illegal, despite the impact it was having on lone-wolves.

“Because of this,” the Inspector continued, “We have had to inform the government of our investigation. Unfortunately, we believe that what has been uncovered in West Newton is connected to the wider European investigation being carried out by DS White and the Metropolitan police. Simply put, we need to get a handle on this before West Newton and the surrounding boroughs are dragged into international gang warfare. Oh, and the children. Obviously, we have to think about the children.”

Oliver leant back in his chair and glanced across at Lucas. They shared a look as Oliver shook his head. Two weeks ago, West Newton and High Enfield were just two sleepy little towns on the outskirts of nowhere. Now, they were becoming hot-beds for exploitation and underground crime syndicates? Seriously ? Oliver couldn’t help but feel like it all started to unravel the day he and Lucas sat on the floor with Helena Cartwright, making Lego sports cars.

Callahan cleared his throat and continued. “We also know that alpha children within the local care system are being targeted by the traffickers, likely with the goal of turning them into future controllers.”

Oliver frowned and raised his hand. “But what about the little boy from Devonshire…Alfie? Where does he fit into all this?”

Inspector Callahan nodded. “Now that , DC Reed, is an excellent question. The simple answer is—we just don’t know. It’s something that you and DC Purslow are going to try to get to the bottom of today.”

“Today, sir?”

“Yes, social services are bringing him over this afternoon. You and Nancy are interviewing him.”

Oliver frowned. “Really, sir? So soon after losing his parents?”

The Inspector tapped his chin and gave Oliver a pointed look. “He doesn’t know yet. We thought you might break the news to him, as a form of rapport building.”

“Rapport bu—” Oliver cut himself off with a sharp breath. He stood, unable to control the anger rising in his gut. “Rapport building, sir? With all due respect—he is a four-year-old child who has just become an orphan, not a fucking business associate.”

Nancy gripped his wrist, trying to pull him back into his seat. “Ollie,” she whispered, her tone low and cautious. If he thought everyone was gossiping about him before, they certainly would be now. He was vaguely aware of Lucas pushing himself upright from the wall. The Inspector just glared at him, lip twitching over his left fang.

Reluctantly, Oliver slumped back into his seat and pressed his fingers to his lips to prevent anything inappropriate slipping out. He loved being a police officer, he really did, but sometimes he questioned how the fuck some people got into positions of management.

As the meeting drew to a close, Oliver was the first to slip from his seat and walk towards the door. He knew Nancy was trying to talk to him, but he was so angry with the Inspector that he needed a moment to himself. Striding down the corridor, he rounded the corner to the men’s restrooms. Thankfully, no one was around, so he used the opportunity to splash some cold water on his face and scream into a paper towel.

As he was patting his neck dry, he heard footsteps echoing down the corridor. He knew exactly who they belonged to by the heavy thud and long gait, so before Lucas could burst in and lecture him, he pushed open the bathroom door. Unfortunately, Lucas was faster and pushed Oliver back against the sinks before he could protest.

“Reed,” he said, pinning him between his body and the countertop.

It irritated Oliver beyond all reason, so he shoved Lucas back against the toilet cubicles. “Did you know?” He growled, taking a step towards him. “That no one—not one fucking person—told Alfie about his parents? Or that the Inspector was having him brought here to be interviewed?”

Lucas’ nostrils flared as heat flashed across his eyes. “Yes,” was all he said, jaw clenching.

Oliver dropped his chin, glaring up at the alpha under furrowed brows. “He’s four years old, DS White. Do you know how much this could fuck him up if handled poorly?”

“I do,” he replied, straightening to his full height.

Had Oliver not been so angry, he might have cowered back from the powerful alpha, instead he stamped his foot and pressed up onto his tiptoes until their noses were almost touching. “Then why didn’t you dispute this? Or at least warn me? Jesus, I thought you had more of a back-bone than that.”

“I disputed it,” Lucas replied, lips peeling back over his canines. “But the Inspector made it quite clear that my involvement in the investigation was hanging on by a thread.” A coil of hair loosened itself from his topknot.

“Fuck. The. Inspector,” Oliver snarled, teeth bared.

Lucas’ mouth split into a feral grin as his hand flew out to wrap around Oliver’s throat. “Such insubordination, DC Reed,” he growled, tipping Oliver’s head back as he towered over him.

“Coming from you,” Oliver said through gritted teeth. “We aren’t meant to be alone during work hours.”

“And yet here we are,” Lucas replied, bearing down on him.

Oliver sucked his lower lip, the alpha and omega within him waging war on one another yet again. Yes , he was angry with Callahan, and yes , he disagreed with how the victims were being handled. But it was the crippling tension between him and Lucas that was breaking his back every fucking day. He thought he’d moved past it, but the rock hard cock in his trousers said otherwise.

“You’re a terrible fucking friend, Lucas.” And despite holding the alpha’s stormy gaze, Oliver couldn’t help but feel ashamed by how much his words quivered.

“And you should learn to do as you’re told, Reed .”

He glared up at the alpha through sandy lashes, his tongue darting out to dampen his lips. “I’ve never been obedient,” he whispered, the words sounding far more sultry than intended.

Lucas shifted his grip from the front of Oliver’s throat to the back, his thumb and forefinger pinching the vertebrae at the nape of his neck. He leant forward, grazing the tip of his long canine across Oliver’s chin. It felt like a warning, and a promise in equal measure.

The sweet smell of peppermint toothpaste drifted into Oliver’s nostrils, followed by the heady musk of Lucas’ scent. He knew the alpha was testing him, but he leant into the scent as his mind and body craved the warmth and security of his embrace. Their lips touched for the briefest of moments. A ghost of a kiss, as though nothing more than a thought.

“And yet, you can be as sweet as a kitten when it suits you,” Lucas uttered against his lips, before releasing his neck and striding out the bathroom.

Oliver struggled to catch his breath as he watched the alpha leave, and he stared at the blue painted fire door as though willing Lucas to reappear. He didn’t, of course, and after several moments Oliver tentatively turned back towards the sink and braced his hands on its cold porcelain edges. Shit. He’d been both na?ve and an idiot in believing the two of them could be friends.

Staring down at his clasped hands, Oliver waited for the Inspector to speak. The clock ticked away at the far end of the office, and he was certain that Callahan was making him sweat on purpose. Eventually, the Inspector sighed and cleared his throat.

“DC Reed,” he began, tone almost wearisome. “Do we have a problem here?”

Oliver looked up, but did not meet the alpha’s gaze. Instead, he stared at the Thin Blue Line pin adorning his tie.

“No, sir,” he replied, voice quiet.

The Inspector let out a sharp breath. “Good. Now, DC Reed… Oliver, we’ve worked together for a number of years, yes?”

Oliver looked up. “Yes, sir. You were my first ever uniform Inspector.” In fact, Inspector Callahan had been Oliver’s supervisor for most of his decade-long career. There had only been a brief period of absence when Callahan moved to CID two years before Oliver.

“Oh good Lord, has it been that long? Well, I should hope over those years you have come to realise that you can talk to me. About any concerns you may have.”

Coming from a man who wanted to use the death of a child’s parents as ‘rapport building.’

“Yes, sir,” he said, though he did not mean it. Whilst he’d known Callahan for almost a decade, he would never trust the man—despite allowing him to mask as a beta to hide his sigma status.

“Good,” he replied, steepling his fingers on the desk. “With that being said, this situation with DS White—” Oliver’s back tensed, the warmth of Lucas’ breath still lingering on his lips. “Are you alright?” The Inspector continued, “You’ve not seemed like yourself lately.”

Well, Oliver had to give him points for astuteness, at the very least. “Yes Sir, I’m fine. I’ve just got a lot going on at the moment.” He sounded like a robot, even to his own ears.

The Inspector nodded, glancing up at the calendar that was tacked to the wall. It was filled with pictures of fluffy kittens and wide-eyed puppies. Each to their own, Oliver supposed. Tracing his finger over the month of May, he stopped on a little red cross. Oliver’s face flushed when he realised what the Inspector had marked. As if sensing his embarrassment, Callahan smiled and withdrew his hand.

“Come now, DC Reed. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I was simply checking if your heat cycle might have been a factor. Though I can see you aren’t due for quite some time.”

It was then he noticed that, beside his little red cross, there were a series of little purple crosses marked out every three months. That must have been for Matteus. Oliver had to give the Inspector credit, he knew his staff, and he always allowed them ample time to recover.

“As for DS White. I’m sorry you’re no longer on the same squad. From what I gather, you made quite a good team. But I will be frank with you—we cannot have a repeat of the dealership raid. It risks not only yours and DS White’s safety, but also the safety of other officers. Not to mention members of the public.”

“I understand, Sir.”

And he did. He really fucking did. Despite everything, he knew that lust and professionalism did not make for a safe combination. Except, whatever was going on between him and Lucas was stretching far beyond the fervour of lust. It was like a lead weight pressing down on his chest every time he closed his eyes. A slow, molten thing that crept through his veins and seared his skin.

The worst part was that he genuinely liked the alpha, and enjoyed his company despite the tension. But he also wanted to sever the connection with every fibre of his being, and would try to sever it if it meant Lucas could find someone capable of giving him happiness. But if their interaction in the bathroom had proven anything, it was that both their resolve was quickly dwindling.

“DC Reed?” The Inspector asked.

“S-Sorry, boss?”

“I asked if you’re still capable of speaking to little Alfie this afternoon, or whether I should ask one of the Special Branch officers to accompany DC Purslow.”

Oliver bit the inside of his cheek. He would not apologise for what he said in the briefing room, and it appeared the Inspector would not temper his expectations either. And there was no way in hell he was going to let a Special Branch officer sit in on the interview, seeing as the majority possessed the emotional tact of a lump hammer. No, it would require a gentle hand and careful words.

“No, Sir. That won’t be necessary.”

The interview suite was, for all intents and purposes, just like any other slightly dated living room. Except it was at the back of the police station, and there were cameras in each corner of the room.

Midday came and went, and by the time he and Nancy had dusted, hoovered and plumped the cushions in the suite, it was time to meet Alfie. Prior to his arrival, they set out several toys, books, and puzzles. They’d gotten rid of their suit jackets, ditched their ties and did their absolute best to not look like police officers.

As the door slowly opened, Oliver saw a fair-haired little boy trailing behind Shirley-fucking-Spencer, the shittest social worker to ever grace the service. Alfie was straight-backed, had his chin tucked in, with his eyes pointing at the floor. He made no move towards the toys, only sat on the sofa when instructed by Shirley. But even then, his hands remained balled into tiny fists.

“He’s been like this since we got him,” Shirley said, taking a seat in an armchair opposite them.

Ignoring her, Oliver put down his notepad and sat on the floor at Alfie’s feet. “Hi,” he said, smiling as he craned his head to meet the boy’s gaze. He caught Alfie’s eye for one brief moment and had to glance away to prevent himself from grimacing at the boy’s expression. He looked blank, totally and utterly blank, as though he had withdrawn into himself. The shell of a child.

He’d seen it before, having worked with some of the most abused kids in the force. But Alfie… there was just nothing there. Oliver glanced at Nancy, who had taken a seat on the opposite sofa. She rummaged through the box of toys and pulled out some plastic tracks and cars. It was a routine they’d done a hundred times before, because what little boy could resist firing some brightly coloured cars around a track?

Alfie apparently. Because he had absolutely no reaction to what Nancy was doing. Resting an elbow on his own knee, Oliver stared up at him for a long time. Eventually, curiosity got the better of the boy and he glanced at Oliver again.

“Hi, I’m Ollie,” he said, pulling a silly face. It made Alfie’s cheek twitch with the ghost of a smile. “You know, I heard your name is Charlie. Is that right?”

The boy frowned. “No,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. Because if Oliver knew anything, it was that young kids loved correcting adults.

“It’s not?”

“Alfie.”

“Oh! Alfie, I see. Alfie sounds kinda like Charlie, right?” The boy nodded. “And both of those names kinda sound like Ollie. What do you think?” Alfie shrugged. “Hmm, Ollie and Alfie. And over here we have Nancy,” he said, pointing at the beta. Alfie frowned before looking back down at his hands. Okay then… doesn’t trust women.

Oliver looked at Nancy again, who also noticed the reaction. Jumping up, she clapped her hands and said, “Right! Well, Shirley and I are going to make a cup of tea. Would you like one, Alfie?”

No reaction. Really doesn’t trust women… Nancy pulled the social worker over to the little kitchen at the far end of the room, turning their backs on the two of them. It was only then that Alfie looked up at the toy cars.

“Hey Alfie, can I show you my cars?” Oliver said, leaning forward and resting his chin on the boy’s knee. “I have too many to play with on my own.” Alfie slowly nodded, so Oliver held out his hand. After several nervous moments, he took it. His hands were cold, a solid indicator he was anxious.

Settling themselves around the coffee table, Oliver began building up a track whilst Alfie watched. He could see the boy was interested, but was too afraid to join in. As he continued to build the track, the pieces were getting closer to the edge of the table, until he ‘accidentally,’ attached a straight bit of track that would have seen the cars falling over the edge.

“N-No,” Alfie said, blinking, as though surprised by the sound of his own voice. “N-Not like that.”

Oliver hummed and pointed at the track, pretending to realise his ‘mistake.’ “Whoops! How do you think I can fix it?”

Because kids loved correcting adults.

“This one,” Alfie said, pointing to a curved piece in the box.

“You reckon? Show me?”

Alfie glanced at Nancy and Shirley, who still had their backs turned whilst pretending to make tea. Shyly, he reached across and put the track in its proper place. Oliver gasped. “That’s loads better, thanks Alfie. I’m going to choose a car. Do you want to pick one?” Alfie nodded and watched as Oliver picked up the tattiest one in the box. He cast his eyes over the remaining toys before selecting his own sporty green car, which looked remarkably like a v6 twin turbo.

They played for a little while, pushing the cars around the track and pretending to drive to different places. After a while, Oliver introduced a set of tiny dolls and lined them up on the side of the track. Alfie looked at them, then looked up at Oliver. Oliver’s gut tightened ever so slightly, because for the first time in almost an hour, the shadow of a child appeared in Alfie’s eyes.

“It’s snowing,” Alfie said, eyes sliding back to the dolls.

Oliver’s heart leapt at the opening. “Oh, is it? What makes you say that?”

“It’s always snowing with mummy and daddy.”

“Oh yeah? What’s it like?”

“Sparkly. And it got on their faces a lot. And sometimes it went on my face, too. It made me feel funny.”

Love dust. The four year old child had been exposed to Love Dust. Oliver let out a slow breath, heart sinking into his belly. Love dust was a synthetic drug, manufactured to mimic the effects of heats and ruts. Similar to cocaine, but was a silvery white colour, and far, far more addictive.

“It did?” He said, turning his attention back to Alfie.

Alfie nodded and continued to push the car around the track. He moved it until it pulled up alongside the little dolls. “Get in,” he said in a light-pitched voice, moving the dolls to the other side of the table. Oliver watched as he pulled a little house out of the toy box and sat it next to the dolls.

“Where’s this?” Oliver said, tapping the house.

“Aunty Joanne’s.”

“Yeah?”

Alfie nodded. “Mummy said she’s her sister,” he replied, pulling three of the dolls to one side. Then he pulled up two more dolls, one small and one large. Lying the small one on its back, he placed a larger one on top of it.

“Who’s this?” Oliver said, pointing to the larger doll. Alfie shrugged. “And this?” He pointed to the smaller one.

“Alfie.”

Oliver closed his eyes and swallowed. Fuck . Then Alfie walked one of the other dolls to stand next to the ones lying down.

“And who’s that?” Oliver said.

“Mummy.”

And Oliver thought for one naive moment that he was going to show mummy pulling the other doll away. Instead, Alfie screwed up his face and bared his non-existent fangs.

“Stop crying! Stop crying! Stop crying!” He shouted, causing Nancy and Shirley to turn around. Oliver threw up a hand, gesturing for them to stay still. Alfie’s eyes went wide, his pupils blown as his mouth locked into a wide ‘oh.’

An acrid scent blanketed the room, Alfie’s fear made real as it slammed into each of them like a lead weight. Oliver coughed, resisting the urge to cover his nose as he picked up the dolls, the cars, the tracks and put them back in the box. He pulled the boy into his arms, holding him as they sat on the floor.

“It’s alright,” he whispered, “It’s going to be alright. No one’s going to hurt you anymore.”

Tears pricked his eyes as he chewed his lower lip, and Alfie’s heart beat erratically against Oliver’s chest. “It’s alright, Alfie. It’s alright.” And for one blindingly intense moment, Oliver wanted to wrap him up in a blanket, take him home and feed him custard creams until he smiled again.

Oh God. Now he got it. Now he understood Matteus’ infuriatingimpulse to look after him, to feed him cottage pie and hover over him like a worried mother. And Lucas… how he involuntarily unleashed the primal howl when Oliver was hurt. Oh God. Oh no. It hurt. He didn’t want it. Didn’t want to feel such an intense need to protect.

The interview ended shortly after that. Alfie calmed down and resumed his original blank expression. A coping mechanism.

“We’ll likely need to speak to him again,” Nancy said as Shirley strapped Alfie into the car seat. “But not for a little while… he doesn’t—” She glanced over at Oliver, who was standing silently in the corner of the car park. “I think they both need some time to reset.”

Shirley nodded, handing Nancy a business card. “Today’s my last day. My replacement’s starting tomorrow morning. He’ll be taking over the care of Alfie.”

Nancy nodded. “I see. What’ll you do now?”

Shirley shrugged, glancing at Oliver, then back at Alfie. “I don’t know. But I don’t think I’m cut out to be a social worker anymore.”

Oliver and Nancy walked in silence towards the on-site cafe, as neither of them felt like debriefing middle management at that precise moment in time.

“Well, then—” Nancy said, as they slid into one of the side booths. “That was awful. Poor kid.”

“Yeah,” Oliver replied, staring into his cup.

“You did well though, babes. Don’t beat yourself up. It was always going to take time.”

Oliver frowned. “I feel like I did more harm than good, Nance. Maybe I shouldn't have introduced the cars, or held back on asking him about the dolls. And I never even told him about his parents.”

Nancy shook her head. “Nah, you didn’t need to. It would be better coming from somebody else, seeing as you’ve got to try to build a positive relationship going forward. And besides, you did one good thing. One fucking amazing thing, actually.” Oliver’s eyes flicked up inquisitively. “We won’t be seeing Shirley-fucking-Spencer again. Today was her last day.”

Oliver let out a sharp breath. “Thank fuck for that. Who’s taking over?”

Nancy shrugged, “Dunno, a bloke. She gave me his business card.”

As Nancy handed it over, Oliver’s stomach dropped when he saw the name.

Mr Patrick Coletta. Alpha.

His ex-boyfriend from six years ago.The man who nearly destroyed him.