“We can mask our scents.”
“If I really was a danger to you or your mate, don’t you think I would’ve masked my scent? I volunteered to come out here, asshole. I thought we were friends.”
Shaw took a breath and pushed Max away from him. He kept the mamba shifter in his sights, knives at the ready.
“We are friends, Max. Now that I’m mated, I take Brock’s safety very seriously. If anyone tries to harm him, I consider them an enemy.”
“I’m not your enemy.” Max’s voice was firm.
“Then why are you out here sneaking around? Why not knock on the door?”
“I needed to make sure everything was okay first,” he simply said. “My cell phone is in my pocket, you can call Abram. He’ll confirm everything.” They stared at each other for a moment, Shaw trying to gauge if Max was in fact telling the truth. “I consider you family, Shaw. If the situation was reversed, I wouldn’t have thought badly of you. You, on the other hand, assumed I was here to hurt you. Even if Abram ordered me to, I have my own fuckin’ mind.”
Shaw’s shoulder drooped and he put the knives down, relaxing his fighting stance. He felt guilty that he’d assumed the worst.
“You’re right. I was wrong to jump to conclusions.”
Max gave a jerky nod. “Now that I know you’re fine, I’ll head back to the compound. I’ll take the long way back to give you some time to check in with Abram.”
Shoving his hand into his pockets, Max walked past Shaw and headed toward the dirt road. He heard a car start in the distance and stood on the side of the house until it disappeared. Max was right, he did need to talk to Abram and get everything settled. He couldn’t keep Brock hidden away in his small house forever, especially since the place wasn’t a secret. Making his way back into the house, Shaw locked the door behind him and put the knives back.
Shaw pulled out his phone and palmed the device.
He’d kept the phone off, just in case the FPA decided to try to track them. He knew there were probably a ton of messages waiting. After a few minutes, he pushed the button to power on the device and waited. It didn’t take long before his white iPhone was fully functioning and buzzing, alerting him to a half-dozen voice mails and even more text messages.
Typing in his password, Shaw put the phone to his ear and listened to Abram’s voice. The man went from concerned to agitated in record time. Once he deleted all the messages, he started pacing. Should he call the compound? Would it be safe? Would Brock really be okay? They already knew where they were, so at this point, it didn’t matter.
Dialing Abram’s personal cell, he waited. His heart pounded frantically at each ring.
“Shaw.” Abram’s deep voice echoed over the line.
“Sorry to call so late.”
Abram made a disbelieving sound in the back of his throat. “I’ve been concerned.”
“Brock Townsend is my mate. He killed the human, Paul Darren. The one you had me investigate in New Orleans.” He decided to be blunt and honest without giving Abram a huge story.
The leader of the FPA hated listening to long, drawn out stories. He only wanted facts, plain and simple.
He waited for Abram’s response, but the line was dead silent.
Finally after a couple of minutes, Abram spoke. “Did you really think I would force you to kill your mate, Shaw? Am I really the type of man that would sentence you to a life without your mate? You’re not just some stranger on my team. You’re my friend, Shaw. I would never do that to you.”
“No, I don’t think you’re that type of man.” Shaw shook his head vehemently. “I do know what our job title states, though. You’re loyal and honest to a fault, something I respect. I used to think I was the same until I met my mate. Now, the lines are all blurred. I can’t let anything happen to him, even if it means disappearing and abandoning my job.”
“The team needs you, Shaw. We don’t want to lose you.”
“What will happen to Brock? I know that he needs to be punished for his crime and I can’t stand the thought of anyone…”
“Nobody will touch your mate,” Abram guaranteed.
“But, what will happen to Brock? If I bring him back to the compound, what will happen?”
“You’ll need to punish him.” At those words, Shaw’s heart stopped beating. “Trust me, Shaw.”
“Trust, huh?” Shaw let that word run through his mind.
Did he trust Abram? Would he be able to punish Brock? How would Abram expect him to follow through with the punishment?
“The punishment is your decision. I trust you to follow through. When you get back to the compound, all will be forgiven and forgotten.”