25. Mutt

"Mutt," Jeffrey's voice cracked, needy soft, helpless, tinny through my phone's speakers. I jerked up from where I'd been nestled in his bed. My phone only had a few batteries left, and I scrambled around for a charger, suddenly cursing myself for not thinking to charge it.

I knew he was out running around today. I'd tried to invite myself along but he'd been cagey about it and his scent had been sneaky-happy-excited, so I figured there was a reason he hadn't wanted to include me.

"What is wrong?" I jabbed the charging string into the hole on my device, growling down at it. "What has happened? Where are you?" I could and would hunt him by scent if necessary. But if I could get a location that would make things quicker. "Are you hurt?"

"My—" Jeffrey sucked in a breath. "I'm stuck. And my truck broke down again, cuz the thing's a piece of shit and probably didn't get fixed right the first time—and I can't get home. And I would've called Blair, I should've called Blair or Richard but I just…" His voice cracked. "I just wanted you ."

My heart throbbed erratically.

"Tell me where you are. I'll fix it."

"Okay." Jeffrey's voice was soft, meek. He rattled off a bunch of words I didn't understand, but I committed them to memory immediately. "You…you'll come?"

"Yes." My heart lurched. "I'll come."

"Okay." Jeffrey sounded relieved, and that hurt. Because he shouldn't have been scared at all. I should've been there. I should've been protecting him. I knew what asking for help meant to him, and I was so incredibly proud of him.

"Stay put."

"I will."

"How old are you?" Harry's voice was flat and nasally, his hands on the steering wheel as he glared into the rearview mirror at the both of us. I'd insisted on sitting in the back with Jeffrey, and Harry had let me, even though he mumbled something biting about being a show-fer, whatever that was.

"Twenty-five," Jeffrey replied. His scent was worry-relief-grateful. I soaked it up, nuzzling against his throat, more than a little thankful that I'd bit back my own pride and asked for help. As always, he was a good example.

"How did you and Mutt meet?" Harry asked, body stiff, his eyes narrowed.

"He…" Jeffrey's gaze skipped to my face, then my hands, his scent souring for a second before it cleared. "He saved me."

"Right." Harry hadn't been expecting that, obviously. I preened, huffing at his throat happily, one of my hands curled around his hip to hold him still. He was used to my touch by now. At first he'd flinch a little, and then melt—almost like he wanted it, but didn't think he was allowed.

Now he simply softened, tipping into me obediently the second I was near, submissive, his dark eyes full of need.

"What's his favorite food?" Harry quizzed again. I wasn't sure what he was doing. Interrogating Jeffrey like this. But I didn't like it.

"Squirrel?" Jeffrey joked, eyes dancing.

"Lucky guess." Harry's grip on the steering wheel tightened till it squeaked. "What's his favorite color?"

Jeffrey blinked, stumped for a second. "Um." He glanced at me, his cheeks flooding pretty-pink.

"Brown," I mouthed, staring into his eyes pointedly. His flush only blossomed brighter and he sucked in a startled little breath. Pleased-pleased-pleased.

"Brown," he hummed. Then he mouthed "dork" at me, clearly embarrassed. Harry made a sound, though his gaze flickered to me, then Jeffrey in the rearview mirror like he was assessing us. I didn't know why he'd asked that question. It wasn't like he knew my favorite color either.

But I trusted that he knew what he was doing.

He and Jules were the last to know about Jeffrey, and I figured it was time. Even though there was bound to be fall out because of this.

"Who is Lydia Evans?" Harry's voice was mild but his scent betrayed his anxiety. I jerked a little, especially when Jeffrey flinched. I felt it. The twitch of his body, the way he stiffened, turning to ice in my arms.

"I…what?—"

"I looked into you," Harry said, not balking. I jolted, shocked. "Mutt is not exactly sneaky." I am plenty sneaky! "And your name is always right beside hers."

"I…" Jeffrey trembled.

I had no doubt that Harry already knew the answer to this question. He was just testing Jeffrey, and while earlier I'd found his questions harmless, now I felt the need to step in.

I growled, low and dangerous. My eyes flashed, the scent of my anger filling the car. And yet…Harry held his ground. I squeezed Jeffrey tight enough his bones creaked, my ire pointed toward my annoying-ass-older-brother. " Shut up, Harry," I hissed out, half-tempted to climb between the seats and shut him up myself—moving van be damned. He was pack—but that didn't excuse him for being an asshole. "Or I'll make you."

"No." Jeffrey squeezed me back, gently pushing me aside so I wasn't blocking him from view anymore. " No , it's cool." He flashed me a reassuring grin, though it wobbled. "It's…I mean. It's not like it's a secret. I should get used to talking about it, right?"

I don't know about that.

I growled at Harry again, and Jeffrey shoved at my shoulder. The silly human wasn't strong enough to move me on his own, but I shifted out of the way as guided anyway, trusting him to know his own limits.

Jeffrey flashed me a grateful smile, obviously realizing what I'd done.

"Lydia kidnapped me when I was nine," Jeffrey said easily—like it didn't hurt, even though I could smell how much it did. My heart thumped erratically. Harry's eyes widened a little, his own scent growing sharp. "She faked my death. Stole me away. Made my life a living hell for like…years and fucking years. She only recently got locked up–and I came here right after." He trembled, but he met Harry's gaze through the mirror unflinchingly.

Brave as always.

"Are you aware of what she was?" Harry asked, though even I could hear his tone was softer.

"I mean…" Jeffrey sucked in a breath. Don't lie, I begged, though I wouldn't blame him if he did. This was his trauma to tell, and I hated that Harry was forcing it out of him like this.

But at the same time…I was grateful.

Because now I wouldn't be the only person who realized just how brave Jeffrey was. Who respected him. Because that was what he deserved. With every new detail I learned about his past that respect only grew.

"Of course I am," he admitted, and his heart rang true. His eyes were cloudy and far away, like his nightmares played in front of them even now. "I did a lot of shit I'm not proud of when I lived with Lydia. I…hurt people." Jeffrey's voice was rough. "And I understand if that makes you nervous—because of what you both are."

"Of course it does." Harry's eyes narrowed again. "How do I know you're not going to turn around and shoot one of us the second our backs are turned?"

"Because I'm not…I mean." Jeffrey closed his eyes, sucking in a fortifying breath. And when his eyes opened again there was confidence in them. Strength. It made me shiver, my body burning bright with the need to own the beautiful, resilient man beside me. To keep his light within reach. "I'm not a bad person," Jeffrey admitted. "I've done bad things. But I was just surviving—and I'm past that."

The fact he realized that was frankly amazing. I was so fucking proud of the progress he'd made.

"If you're past that part of your life then why are you out talking to local hunters, hmm?" Harry hissed out, betraying himself and the fact he'd apparently been following my mate.

Angry again, the rumble in my chest started up again.

How dare he.

How dare he follow my mate.

"Because—" Jeffrey looked at me, confused. His brow furrowed. "You…"

"Because he's trying to help me," I snapped, angry that Harry was bringing this up when we were both doing our best to ignore it whenever possible. "Because it's getting worse."

"What do you mean it's getting worse?"

"I mean, it's getting worse ." I hadn't actually admitted this to him. Not out loud. I knew my brothers suspected, and that there were physical signs. But this was the first time I was openly acknowledging it. I ducked my head and buried it in Jeffrey's neck to leech his strength, suddenly exhausted.

"Oh."

Harry called my dad. Because of course he fucking did. Tattletaled on me immediately. And Jeffrey got to be privy to that entire conversation as we rode the rest of the way to his apartment in Elmwood.

Ignoring Harry's protests, I followed Jeffrey up the steps to his apartment, crowding him against the front door with my face at the back of his throat as he fumbled with his key. The plastic bag he carried rustled. "You should probably…you know—damage control?" Jeffrey offered, twisting a little.

"No." I nipped at his shoulder and he laughed, shivering.

"Mutt." When he flipped around to face me, he blocked the doorway, hand at the handle. His tone was serious.

"You need me. You called me?—"

"I know." Jeffrey's smile was soft. His scent was sure. "But your brother is freaking out," he reached up, gently stroking over my cheek. "And he needs you too."

"But—"

Jeffrey kissed me, fingers twisting into my t-shirt, his tongue pressing against the seam of my lips. He rubbed and licked, lighting me up from the inside out as I groaned and pressed back against him. Too soon the kiss ended.

When Jeffrey pulled back his lips were swollen pink, and his eyes were at half-mast.

"I'll be waiting for you when you're done," he said softly. "But you need time with your family. And if things are as bad as you say they are…maybe you guys need to have a game plan. Besides, I've been monopolizing you."

"I…don't know what that means."

Jeffrey's scent was amused-amused-amused.

"It means I want you here all the fucking time, every fucking day," he admitted, releasing my shirt. "But I think you need to go talk to your family."

"I…"

"Trust me," his eyes were full of monsters all over again. "I…for a long fucking time I was quiet. I avoided my brothers because I was scared facing the truth would make it hurt more." He shook his head, his lips twisting. "But it doesn't. It's the lies that fucking suck. And maybe you're not like me—maybe you're not outright withholding the truth." I kinda was — from him too. "But you owe it to them, and yourself, to have a clean slate."

"Jeffrey—"

"Don't be like me," Jeffrey's eyes were dark. "Don't repeat my mistakes."

A car passed by on the street, the sun sinking low, the creak of one of Jeffrey's neighbors opening and shutting their door echoing inside my head. Despite this, I narrowed my focus, centering myself in him as I met his gaze and fell even more, helplessly in love with him.

Jeffrey was no wilting flower.

He may have been stomped on but his petals remained firm. What had once withered had fallen free and grown anew. Ever enduring. Solid and sure.

Not at all like I was. Telling him there was no need to lie when here I was, a fucking liar. Afraid to be vulnerable with the people that loved me because I didn't trust them not to take him away from me.

"I wish I was like you," I admitted, voice rough. "You are…" I leaned down and kissed him again, sweetly. "You are the most resilient person I know. Like a flower that survives the frost. If I have even an ounce of your strength I will survive."

"You can't say cheesy shit like that to me," Jeffrey laughed, but his voice was wet. "Fuck. That should be on a Hallmark card or some shit."

Cheesy?

"What about what I just said inspired thoughts of cheese?"

"Shut up." Jeffrey yanked me into another kiss. And then he pushed me away, and I went, once again allowing him to move me when we both knew he couldn't. "Come back when you're done. I've got more… research to do."

"Okay, my prince," I grinned, even though I ached to follow him inside and finish what we'd started.

"God, I hate that nickname."

"Lie," I laughed, because it was. He loved it, and he knew it.

Jeffrey must've recognized the look on my face, because before I could ignore his words and shoulder my way inside he shut the door in my face. Which was probably good, because I had very little self-control as it was.

I stared at the chipped wood for a beat, whining softly under my breath before I forced my feet to move away from him even though it felt wrong .

The car ride back to our house was awkward as hell. Harry asked me a million and a half questions. I had to force myself not to ignore them or bite his head off. And by the time we reached the house I felt drained. But…better too.

Is this how Silas feels after a meeting with Harry?

My sympathies went out to Elmwood's Pack Alpha.

"Thank you for your help," I managed as we climbed up the steps.

"You're welcome." Harry shoved the front door open, holding it for me to go through first. "I…" His voice wavered. For the last two minutes he'd been eerily silent and I knew it was because he was mulling over what I'd said. His white button-up was ironed to perfection as always, but there was something unkempt about him.

Harry would be hard to win over. He was picky. Loyal. But prickly.

I tried to tell myself that his opinion of Jeffrey didn't matter, but it did. Because he was pack . He was mine. And I just…I felt pulled in too many directions at once. It would be nice not to feel so untethered. To have support, when for months I'd let my lies get between me and my family.

Jeffrey hadn't asked that of me, but I hadn't known what else to do.

"I see why you like him," Harry finally said and his tone was surprisingly gentle as he let the door fall shut with a quiet click. None of his usual ice remained. When I scented the air all I felt was calm . The lights were off, but my other brothers' heartbeats sounded down the hall. "I mean…I think it's stupid that you're fucking a human before you're going to have to go home and find a mate—but."

Harry said the word "but" like it was its own sentence entirely.

"But?" I repeated, aching anew.

"But he's… sweet, " Harry shrugged. "I heard him, you know." Because of course he did. "He made you talk to me. You didn't want to." I nodded, because he had. "I know…words are hard for you. I don't know why. That's never been a problem I have but I can understand that we're different. I just… I mean—you…you don't talk to me. Or us. How are we supposed to help you if you don't tell us what's going on?" he shook his head.

"Words are…" I lowered my head, standing in the doorway feeling small. "Words are easy to mess up. I do not have your gift with them. I am too awkward. Too honest. I can not spin them like webs the way you do. It is better to be quiet, than to say the wrong thing."

"That's stupid," Harry's eyes burned. "But yeah. Okay. I get that."

"Jeffrey is…" Jeffrey was a lot of things. But most of all, "he is good ." My heart hurt. "He is a good person. A good person who has had very bad things happen to him. I could not protect him from them because I was not there. And I am doing my best now, but I know I don't have much time left."

I'd already made my choice.

Not that Harry knew that.

"When I am gone I was hoping that you…" I trailed off, heart thumping.

Harry's brow scrunched. "That I what?"

"That you will look after him?" I said softly, my heart hurting. "That all of you will. He is precious, and sweet—and the best thing that has ever happened to me. But I am not the only one who sees his softness. He is so desperate to be loved he becomes blind to the vultures. Trouble can scent him as prey from miles away. And I need to know someone will protect him when I can't anymore."

Harry was silent.

"Please just… please say yes ." My heart thumped erratically.

Arms enveloped me.

It was an odd sensation—because I was still looking at Harry, and he wasn't the one hugging me. But then Butters scent hit. And Theo's. And Jules's. And I realized—belatedly—that I'd walked into our home and spoken loud enough for all of them to hear.

"Of course we'll take care of him," Harry said, staring at me like I'd grown a second tail. Theo huffed into my hair in agreement and I melted, heart fluttering as I finally let myself relax around my brothers the way I should've all along.

I would miss them.

I would miss this.

But I knew, in my heart, that I could not regret my decision. Because to live without Jeffrey was torture—and I had less time than any of them realized.

Jules's fluffy head tickled my nose as he shuffled around to my front. He was the smallest of my brothers and barely came to my chest, the lock of white hair at the front of his head sticking straight up. He smelled like the books he loved so much, and his lavender eyes were wet.

"I'm so pissed at you," he admitted as Harry squeezed around me, finally crowding in, his head leaning on my shoulder. Butters huffed at the back of my neck and I grinned, warm in a way I hadn't been in years.

"Pissed at me?"

"Why am I the last to know you're dating someone?" Jules glared up at me. "I'm like the only person here who is qualified to help you."

"To help…me?"

"Impress a human, obviously."

"Oh."

I held him close. I held all of them close, my eyes pinched shut. "It's not too late," I said, because it wasn't.

Not…yet.

"Okay," he said, content.

"Okay," I agreed, warm, warm, warm.

Wishing Jeffrey was here.

Because the only thing that would make this cuddle pile better would be if he was right in the middle beside me.