8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Maltin rolled over and felt the bed cold under his hand. That woke him in a second, and he sat up and looked around for Jack. When he didn’t see him, Maltin got out of bed and stood at the rail to look down at the rest of the apartment. “Jack! Jack, get back up here!”

He’d woke with his cock throbbing and wanted to sink it into his mate again, but the silence reverberated in his voice, and Jack didn’t call back.

He ran down the stairs, searching the apartment, finding the extra toothbrush in the holder on the wall near the mirror, and seeing the French press in the sink. “What the fuck?”

In the warehouse, he saw Jack’s shoes were gone, then his eyes fell on the Corvette, and his heart dropped to his feet. “Oh, gods. What did I do?”

Both cars were a mess, but that was secondary at the moment. Thinking about that briefly, he felt the changes that Jack had brought to him. If anyone had told him a week ago that he’d be so uncaring about his cars, he’d have slapped them for lying.

“Jack!”

When he returned to the apartment to shower and change, needing to look for Jack, he saw the note on the coffee table.

Maltin,

I’m sorry I left while you were sleeping. I had a few errands to run, including heading to Hands-E-Men. I’ll be back later.

Jack

“Hands-E-Men?” Maltin’s mind went to the darkest place at that moment. He thought Jack was there to do another job with another client…

He hurried to dress and leave the warehouse, driving the Thunderbird down the street so fast that he nearly hit two pedestrians.

As he drove to the freeway onramp, pictures went through his mind of Jack, bent over for another man, writhing in ecstasy as he was fucked for money.

His toolbelt the only thing on his body, the metal of the hammer and wrenches clattering as he was banged from behind him. Maltin’s vision turned red from his anger, and he was ready to use every bit of the rest of his magic, death be damned, to kill anyone who came near his mate.

He couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything except rage. His hands gripped the wheel, and he was ready to wreck another car, right into any man thinking they could have his mate, even for an hour.

At a stop light he barely noticed, he got on his phone to punch in the address to Jack’s work. Once the mechanical voice droned on the directions, he turned right, then drove a quarter mile before turning left. He saw the building, the office on the corner, windows painted black.

Like they were hiding something.

“They’re hiding my fucking mate,” he seethed.

Like magic, Jack came out of the building. Just as Maltin started to roll down his window to call out to him, Jack got into a car; into the passenger seat.

Assuming it was a client, Maltin had to prevent himself from ramming the Thunderbird into the other car, a dented and rusted Kia Picanto that used to be white but was so dirty it looked gray.

Maltin couldn’t see the driver, but he could imagine him. An ugly man, dressed in stained clothing, having saved for a month to afford a romp in his crusty-sheeted bed with a beautiful man like Maltin’s mate, Jack.

Jack would pretend, of course, to enjoy it, but would he think of Maltin at all? Would Jack picture Maltin when he was getting fucked?

Suddenly, his heart was broken, and his anger faded into despair. He followed the car, ready to grab Jack and ask him why, tell him that he was no better than any of the other men he’d been with. Then Maltin would go home to be alone again and wonder why he thought that could change.

They drove toward the part of town where most of the studios lay. He could have driven there without looking, he knew the route so well. It was one of the few places in the city he traveled to.

When they parked across the street from the Colorado Jave Company, Maltin parked a few spaces down from them, watching Jack exit the car to run across the street and into the coffee shop.

When he came out a few minutes later with a piece of paper in his hand, Maltin guessed he was gathering contacts for more clients. His heart was breaking, his tears flowing, but his anger returned as Jack waved the paper at the man in the Kia.

Opening his door, Maltin resolved to tell Jack farewell and end the pain before it could possibly worsen. His fated mate! Sure, they were supposed to fall in love and raise a family together, but that was the stuff of stories. He didn’t believe it could really happen for him.

Once Jack ran across the street, he was about to get into the Kia when Maltin called to him. “Jack!”

Jack turned, his head cocking to the side as a smile grew. “Maltin?”

Maltin ignored the smile as he got back into the car, and Jack came to the passenger side, getting into the Thunderbird. “Hey,” he said happily. “What are you doing here? You like this coffee?”

“Coffee, Jack? You expect me to believe you’re here for coffee? Coffee that you already had at my home?”

His voice cracked with emotion, but Jack only gazed at him, totally confused. “What? No, I wasn’t getting coffee.”

“I know that, Jack. I know you think I’m an imbecile, but I assure you, I am not.”

Jack sighed, “God. I should have said more in the note.”

“What? You should have told me you were meeting some client?”

“Client? That’s Garvey, my friend and roommate, up in that car,” he said, waving the paper in that direction.

When Maltin snatched the paper and read over it, his anger began to recede as his own confusion overtook it. “What is this, an application for work?”

“Yeah, Maltin. I needed a job after quitting Hand-E-Men.”

Maltin let the paper fall to his lap as he gazed at Jack. “You…you quit?”

“Yes! I knew you wouldn’t want me to work there anymore, and besides, I’ve been looking for an excuse to quit. If you let me borrow your truck now and then, maybe I won’t need to make as much to get a car so fast. The bus only goes so far, then I walk to half the places I’m working when I’m doing handyman stuff or…the other stuff. So, the girl in there the other day offered me a job, and I am taking it. I just have to fill out the application and give it back to her,” he explained as he took the paper from Maltin.

Maltin felt as low as he’d ever felt in his life. Hanging his head, he couldn’t even look Jack in the eye.

“Did you think I was going to see a client?”

“Of course. I…I’m terribly sorry, Jack.”

“Hey, look at me.”

Maltin didn’t relish the thought of it, but he couldn’t shrink away from his own foolishness. Turning to Jack, he felt his heart thud just looking at him. “I’m sorry, Jack. I thought the worst.”

Jack nodded and turned to the paper in his lap. “You know, this morning, and before I say this, I felt really bad, I…looked around your place. I got to know you a little, and…Maltin, I get it. You’ve been around a little longer than I have and likely been hurt a few times. I already have trouble trusting, so I can’t imagine what you feel.”

The fact that Jack understood didn’t take away his guilt, it just made it grow. “Jack, you’re really wonderful. I can’t tell you how ashamed I feel.”

“Don’t. I’d probably think the same thing. I’m scared, I’m in awe, I’m happy, and so much more. I don’t know what the hell to feel at any given second. I’m sorry you thought I was back to my old tricks. Forgive the pun.”

“Forgiven,” he said with a laugh. “And, for the record, I’m thrilled you quit.”

“I figured you would be. Garvey’s taking my old clients. Colin’s happy, Garvey’s happy, and I’m…”

“Happy?”

Jack reached over and took Maltin’s hand, bringing it to his mouth. After kissing it, he whispered, “Happier than I thought I could be.”

Maltin’s tears ran, but he swiped at them with his left hand. “Stop all this! I can’t stand emotions.”

“Right. That’s why you followed me.”

His head spun to Jack, and he saw the laughter. “Jack!”

“Listen, I’m on suppressants right now, but if you can get past that, want to go to your place and…have some fun?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I’d love that.”

When they got back to Maltin’s warehouse, however, there was a car parked in front, and Maltin got out, ready to accost whoever it was, telling them to leave. But then the man got out of his champagne-colored Buick Encore, and they both saw it was the investigator, a briefcase in his hand.

Jack moved to Maltin and grabbed his hand. “He looks…”

Jack didn’t have to finish his thought. They could both see the way Dennis Peterson’s brows were creased hard together, his mouth a thin slash on his face. “Maltin,” Jack whispered.

“It’ll be okay, Jack. I promise I’ll make sure it’s okay.”

They greeted the man, and then Maltin invited him upstairs. He asked if they’d like tea, but Peterson nodded over to the bar. “Might want to get your mate a drink.”

Jack’s eyes grew into saucers, so Maltin poured him a drink and one for himself.

They sat together on the couch while Peterson sat across from them in the scoop chair. “Gentlemen, I’m just going to get this out. Jack…you are the victim of people’s fear of your…your parents.”

“What are you talking about?” Jack said in a tiny voice, and Maltin wrapped an arm around him.

“Yes, what are you saying?”

“I looked up your parents, Jack, and I’m sure it didn’t escape you that you don’t exactly look like either of your parents.”

Jack stiffened and said, “Yeah, I’m blond, they’re not. So?”

Maltin closed his eyes to brace himself, but he thought he knew what Peterson was about to say, and he was right.

“Jack, I found one of the nurses who was in the hospital that day. She’s nearing ninety and in poor health. She no longer cares about any wrath from the hospital or the Pengroves.” He cleared his throat and opened the briefcase, taking a folder from it. “She gave me a statement, and, if you don’t mind, I’ll tell you an abbreviated version, then I’ll give you the full report.”

“Just tell him, please,” Maltin urged aggressively.

“Of course. Well, Jack, when their child was born dead, the baby was rushed from the room, seemingly to administer lifesaving treatment to it, although the doctors knew it was no use. Your father was already threatening them, as at the last checkup his wife had, the doctor told them the baby was healthy and right on track. They were in fear for their lives, and also in fear of being sued. Another child was born healthy and alive in the next delivery room. They switched the children, telling your real parents, who’d had two miscarriages already, that their one living child had passed away.”

Jack wrenched from him and started to pace around; his voice thick with sadness. “I’m…I’m not theirs? I was stolen from my family?”

“I’m afraid so, Jack. I’m very sorry, and the nurse, Ruth Madrid, is ready to testify against the hospital for you.”

“All these years, I felt like a freak, no powers, my family treating me like a pariah, and I wasn’t theirs?”

Maltin got up to Grab Jack in his arms. “We’ll find your real family, Jack, I swear it.”

“Uh, if you’ll indulge me a bit longer, I have found them.”

Jack broke from Maltin’s arms again and moved closer to Peterson. “What? Did you…tell them about me?”

“I haven’t spoken to them, Jack. I didn’t think I had the right or the okay from you, my client.”

Maltin sat back on the couch and motioned for Jack to join him. When he did, Maltin took his hand and was determined to keep him close. “What should we do?”

Peterson looked to Maltin and said, “That’s up to Jack and you, as his mate. In my opinion, be gentle if you contact them. They had no idea their child was alive all this time. It will be a shock for both families.”

“Not for the Pengroves,” Jack spat. “They’ll be overjoyed.”

“Baby, I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Oh, really? They hate me, kept me hidden from the time they knew I had no powers like them.”

“Jack, I realize this is difficult for you, but faced with the fact that their real child died, I would tread carefully. They are witches, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then…this could be an even greater shock to them, and they could throw a lot of blame. It’s not uncommon for the messenger to reap people's wrath.”

Jack wouldn’t be hurt. Maltin would assure that. “Thank you,” he said to Dennis Peterson. “Can you leave the report and the statement and such for us? We’ll need some time to mull this over in our minds before we act.”

“Of course, of course. I’ll leave these and send a digital copy and anything else you might need, along with my expense report and the remaining bill. I’m not taking a dime for the travel, though. This was a shock to me too, and I hate delivering news that is this life-changing in ways that aren’t going to be celebrated.”

After Maltin showed him out, he returned to the living room and stood on the other side of the wood block coffee table, his mind racing for ways to help Jack through this. He had no real clue. “Jack, what do you want to do?”

“Tell my family. Or, rather, my fake family, exactly where they can stick it.”

Maltin agreed. “Good start, but what about your real family? I’ll follow your lead on that. I swear I’ll be with you through it all as your mate and as your friend too.”

Jack got up and went to him so quickly that Maltin didn’t know what was happening, but Jack flew into his arms, holding him so tightly that Maltin could barely breathe. “I hate them! I hate them so much!”

Maltin knew he meant the family that raised him. “Shh, baby, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

Scooping Jack into his arms, he carried him up the stairs to the bedroom and, after laying him on the bed, crawled on next to him to hold him as he sobbed himself to sleep.

Once he was sure Jack wouldn’t wake if he moved, he got up and left to head to the warehouse, avoiding looking at the Corvette and Mini Cooper. Taking out his phone, he called his family, who were all in the South of France for the winter.

“Malty? How nice to finally hear from you, dear.”

His mother was terribly old-fashioned and still didn’t understand that he was gay, for one, and limited in his magic, though it was her fault he was. “Mother, how is Uncle Rodney?”

Her brother Rodney was younger than Maltin by a week, and they’d grown up like brothers. “He’s wonderful, dear. How are you? Since I rarely hear from you, I wouldn’t know, of course.”

Closing his eyes, he tried to make his voice light. “I’m fine, Mother. I’ve been busy. In fact, I’m very busy…being that, well, I’ve found my mate.”

“Mate! What are you talking about, Maltin?”

He knew her reaction wouldn’t be warm and fuzzy. She’d been put through hell by her in-laws for the fact his father hadn’t looked for his mate. “Mother, you know I’m half shifter. It’s not like I was exactly looking for him.”

“Him? Your fated mate is a man?”

Outside, he slid down the metal wall of the warehouse and sat in the dirt. “Yes, Mother. I’m gay, remember?”

“How can I forget?” she snipped. “Well, you’re mated. Will I have grandchildren or…what is it that I will have? Chicks? Guppies?”

Here we go , he thought. “Hounds,” he said and flinched a little at the semi-lie.

“Hounds? Hounds? ”

“Mother, please, it wasn’t my choice. Not the gay part, not the shifter part, either. I’d think you’d be happy for me.”

“Are you happy for you?”

Again, he could only smile. When he could feel his mother ready to scream again he said, “We’re getting to know each other, but so far, I’m very happy, Mother. And it’s not about his being my fated mate. It’s him. He’s wonderful.”

“I’ll just bet,” she snarked. “Regardless, what do you need from me besides stabbing an athame through my heart?”

So dramatic, that was his mother. “Well, I need power. Possibly a lot of it. Do you know the Pengroves?”

“Pengroves…why, yes, they’re an old family, going back to Ireland in the…let me think. The first century?”

“I wouldn’t know, I’m afraid.”

Her voice suddenly turned joyous. “Is he a member of the Pengrove family? Oh, Malty!”

He was back to being Malty. “It’s very complicated, Mother.”

“Wait a moment. He couldn’t possibly be a member of the Pengrove family. They have no shifters.”

“I know that. Please keep this conversation between us for now. Jack was raised by them, but he didn’t know, and they still don’t, that he was not born to them. The hospital was afraid of the family, so they switched a dead child for a live one. The live one grew to be Jack.”

“Oh, dear,” she said with real sadness in her voice. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry, dear. Not that I can blame them. Those Pengroves are like your grandparents. Total snobs to the point they’d kill if someone so much as sniffed around one of their eligible children in hopes of a date.”

Maltin sighed, but finally, he had his mother by the diamonds. “Mother, they’ll likely not want this information to get out.”

“Don’t end your sentence with a preposition, dear. You were taught better than that. And stop slouching and get off the ground. What have you become in that strange city?”

He’d long ago stopped wondering how his mother knew what he was doing, even thousands of miles away. He stood and brushed off the dirt from his pants. “Sorry, Mother.”

“Well, if they so much as tried to hurt my child, I’d bring all the wrath of the Hilderbrand family down on their heads. What do you need, son? Would you like Uncle Rodney to fly to you tonight? He can be there by morning.”

“Yes, Mother. I’d like that. I hate asking for help, but I will likely use all my power defending Jack, and…I am not prepared to leave him.”

“Oh, son. That’s sweet. You have real feelings for him, don’t you?”

“Mother, I know how you feel about fated mates, but Father loved you more than anything in the world. What I feel for Jack would have come regardless, I promise you.”

“Then…then I’m sure I’ll adore him. Take care, and Rodney will be there soon. Use him well, dear. And be careful he doesn’t take off to any casino. You know how he gambles.”

She hung up after that, and he was left to chuckle as he went back inside the warehouse.