Brock's Punishment(15)

He found the place by accident years ago when he’d been chasing after a rogue. When they hit the national forest, the place called to him. He purchased a home and some property with cash. Shaw was careful not to leave a paper trail. As far as the government was concerned, a corporation owned the property.



* * * *



Brock stared out the window, watching the scenery fly by, his mind a mess. Could he have been wrong about Shaw? As a shifter, he loved having the ability to know what others were thinking and feeling, but now he wished he didn’t have the knowledge. From Shaw’s scent alone, he knew the other wolf was upset and disappointed. It hurt.

The man hadn’t even bothered asking what happened. He didn’t seem interested in knowing why Brock killed Paul. Shaw wanted to protect him, but what would it cost them both? And could Shaw ever really be happy with him?

A sound drew his attention toward the other side of the cab. He slammed his eyes shut, wanting to prevent further conversation. After a couple of minutes, Brock soon realized that Shaw wasn’t going to say a word.

As time slowly ticked by, the silence inside the truck slowly drove him crazy. He couldn’t force himself to sleep and he couldn’t stare out the window any longer. Sitting up, Brock took a deep breath and turned so that he was facing Shaw once more.

“Ask me why,” Brock said.

“Why what?” Shaw glanced over at him.

“Ask me why I killed Paul Darren? Or do you just think I’m some sort of homicidal maniac?”

“The reason doesn’t matter. You’re my mate.”

“You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me,” Brock ground out, his frustration level growing to the point where he thought he might physically explode. Gritting his teeth, he repeated himself once more, “Ask me.”

“Fine.” Shaw exhaled loudly. “Let’s talk about this. Why did you kill Paul Darren? He was a weak human that was killed in his home, which meant you went there with the intent to cause harm. Go ahead, tell me all about it.”

Shaw’s tone cut Brock bone deep.

It was obvious in that moment his mate wasn’t going to listen to him without judgment. The man saw someone that was guilty, plain and simple. The only reason Shaw was willing to shelter and protect Brock was because they were mates, period. How many paranormals had the man sentenced to death without hearing their side of the story? How many shifters had protected their friends and families only to be hunted down by the elite group of FPA members?

“I need you to pull over,” Brock finally said.

He felt as though he might be physically ill if he stayed in the truck with Shaw for another moment.

“I can’t. We haven’t been on the road that long and we need a big head start if we’re going to stay ahead of the agency.”

“I said, pull the truck over,” Brock insisted, his voice stronger.

The tension inside the cab was growing, making it hard to breathe. He just wanted to get away from the whole situation.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You’re my problem. Pull the truck over!”

“Fine!” Shaw cut over to the slow lane and onto the side of the road.

The truck was barely stopped when Brock pushed the door open and jumped out. Slamming the door behind him, he marched down the side of the highway, cursing himself and Shaw. He didn’t have a destination. He just needed some space away from Shaw Iza, federal agent.

“God!” He growled. “How could fate hook me up with that guy? What the fuck did I do to deserve him? Asshole.”

“That’s really nice,” Shaw murmured from behind him, and Brock stopped dead in his tracks.

He closed his eyes briefly, his anger instantly deflating. Fuck. He was just blowing off some steam, he hadn’t meant for Shaw to actually hear him rant. Taking a deep breath for courage, Brock slowly turned around and faced Shaw head on. The flash of pain he caught in Shaw’s eyes broke his heart, but it quickly disappeared, replaced by cool professionalism.

“I’m sorry that you hate me or that you think I’m some sort of childhood punishment,” he said as the wind picked up and blew his long blue locks back, exposing the scar on his forehead.

He was beautiful standing there on the side of the road, his hair moving with the breeze as the other vehicles passed them by—a fallen angel. Brock studied the man’s features for the first time, tracing his eyes over the strong bone structure and full lips. Before, when they were in Gideon’s office, he hadn’t taken the time to really see Shaw. But now he did and it hit Brock like a ton of bricks to the gut.

This is my mate. This is my forever.