Page 38 of Targeted By Love
Out of everything I expected to discover, nothing prepared me for finding out that Seb was involved with them. The disdain in their voices as they called him “human” told me whatever my brother’s position, it wasn’t something high up. But still, he was linked to the shifter mafia and that floored me. Sure, he’d made half-ass comments joking about “mob connections” a time or two, but he also said he’d made buckets of money on crypto which wasn’t true. He wasn’t known for being honest, and who actually teased about knowing mobsters when they actually had mob connections?
I always considered him a low-level conman, the kind of guy that was on the fringe and never made it into any kind of group, not even a gang. How wrong I’d been.
If only they had said more on the topic, but they didn’t. Instead, they’d moved on to one of their nights at a club and their conquests. Ewww. But even that conversation didn’t last long. Someone called, informing them of an intruder, and that’s when everything went down and my mate rescued me. He wasn’t alone. His brothers were there, but make no mistake about it, he’d been my knight in shining armor.
Now, I was in the back of a vehicle, cradled in my mate’s arms as he held me tightly. There was so much I wanted to say, but instead, I just accepted his comfort, his warmth, and the sweet relief of freedom.
When we got back to his apartment, I told them what little I had heard about Seb, including any mentions of the mafia which suddenly felt important. It wasn’t as much as I wanted to contribute, but it was a heck of a lot more than they’d had to go on initially, and his brothers assured me the information was going to help them.
Initially there had been a whole lot of cussing and a bunch of assurances, so “help them” was a huge step up from that. They promised to find out more and do what needed to be done—whatever that meant. It was scary how much I didn’t care what happened to him next. He made his bed and now he was going to need to lie in it… or a coffin. Sure, I felt bad for my mom, but objectively, she’d been as much of the problem as he had, between her enabling his behaviors and the way she treated me.
I nodded along as they talked about what was next, but I was glad when Maynard told them to wait. He wanted to be strategic. And really, nothing they’d said had been sinking in. My nod was 100% performative.
If they had asked me what to do, my solution would’ve been much simpler than theirs. There wouldn’t have been much strategy at all. Nope. I’d have told them to kill everyone that might be an issue, including my brother. It was safe to say I wasn’t in the right headspace for any decision making. Instead of making things better, my plan would’ve ensured a shifter war. Shifter politics mixed with human involvement, yeah, that wasn’t going to work—not really.
“All of this can wait,” Maynard said, leaving no room for argument. “Everybody out. I need to take care of my mate.”
They all told me how glad they were I was safe, and then, one by one, they left. Although, I had a feeling they weren’t really gone. They were either keeping watch to ensure our safety or trying to figure out what to do with the little bit of information I’d gathered.
“You smell like them,” Maynard grumbled. “Time to fix that.”
It was safe to assume he hadn’t meant I smelled like his brothers.
He stood, taking me with him, and carried me to the bathroom. Part of me wanted to say, “No, I can walk,” but most of me was just so glad to be in his arms, knowing I was safe. Instead I snuggled in and enjoyed the ride.
Once in the bathroom, he set me down gently and turned on the shower.
“Let’s get you ready.” He began to undress me slowly, examining my skin as he did, making sure there were no injuries if I were to guess. I didn’t ask him. Whatever his reasons were, he needed this. I could feel it through our bond.
When he looked up, his expression was so raw, so full of emotion, that it nearly broke me. “I was so scared.”
“Me too.” One day I would tell him about the headgames the drugs they’d knocked me out with had me playing, but that would have to wait.
“Are you coming in with me?” I looked him up and down. He was still fully dressed. The truth was that even for the short time it took to take a shower, I didn’t want to be away from him.
“Yeah,” he said.
I stepped under the hot water, and he undressed quickly, joining me. When I reached for the shampoo, he shook his head. “Let me take care of you.”
Starting with my hair, he shampooed and washed it gently before scrubbing my body clean. Then, he did the same to himself before wrapping his arms around me.
I let the tears come, confessing how helpless I had felt, how scared I was, and how it was only knowing he was out there—being able to feel his love—that kept me going and allowed me to keep my cool.
When we were done, he dried me off and dressed me in his clothes. They were clean and soft, and the way he looked at me left no room for misinterpretation: he liked seeing me in his attire. I liked it too.
“You need to eat.” It wasn’t a question.
He led me to the kitchen and pulled out eggs and bread, grumbling about not having any bacon. He ended up making scrambled eggs with cheese and toast.
“I’ll make something better next time.”
“This is perfect.” It went down easily, exactly what I needed with my stomach still unsettled. Slowly, I ate while Maynard told me about his interactions with the others earlier in the day. But not much of it registered. I was too overwhelmed by all that had happened—and whatever they had injected me with.
His brothers said they knew the drug after finding the vial and assured me I would be okay. I trusted them. And besides, I wasn’t ready to spend eight hours in the ER filling out reports, knowing they’d call the police as soon as I complained about being drugged.
This was better.
“Hold me.” I stood up, reaching for his hand. “The dishes can wait. I just need to feel your arms holding me close. Please.” I didn’t give a rat’s ass how needy I sounded.