It didn't help that the cute little man had clearly pegged him as his mate – the pheromones swamping around that small but neat apartment were off the charts, and Trent had prided himself on actually having a conversation with the Omega. Although thinking back on it now, it wasn't much of a conversation. He still didn't know the little man's name, where he worked, why he didn't have a pack, Trent would have smelled it on him, or anything else?
But those things don't matter anyway he told himself firmly. It wasn't as though he could take the little pretty as a mate. Not with being Sergeant of Arms of the Epitaphs. He would have to leave the club and that could cause problems in itself if Clive ever got wind of why he was leaving. They would have to leave town. But as Trent took one last look at what he knew was his mate's apartment window, before starting his bike and roaring off down the street, he was starting to think that his little blond might be worth it. Who needed a gang of humans, when he could have his fated mate? Still thinking, he rode off into the darkness.
Chapter Three
As soon as Trent turned up at the Epitaph's club rooms the next morning after a sleepless night, Clive was waiting for him. "Come into my office," he said brusquely, not giving Trent a chance to even take off his jacket. Shrugging, Trent followed along behind Clive through the clubhouse and out to his room at the back. He noticed Stephanie in the kitchen and her gleeful grin had him worried for just one second. He had meant what he had said to her the night before – he wasn't going to take her to bed, even if Clive ordered him too. Now more than ever.
Inside the office, Clive motioned for him to take a seat, which Trent did, eyeing the man over his cup of coffee. Clive was about forty five, with a buzz cut and the look of the military still about him. His square rugged face showed marks from more than one fight, and the bumps on his nose indicated it had been broken at least twice. Although shorter than Trent by a good three inches, Trent was still wary of the man. He might be human, but Clive was a mean fighter and he never lost.
"You had a busy night last night," Clive started.
"No more than usual," Trent offered back, not sure where Clive was going with his conversation and not wanting to give him any leads.
"You upset Stephanie, and put two of my men in hospital, and then you took off without so much as a by your leave," Clive said, his tone as bland as the look on his face.
"Stephanie is becoming a nuisance that I have no interest in bedding and as for those two bozo's – they should have known better to pick a fight in broad daylight, wearing gang colors in the center of town. That was a dumb thing to do when we have things here that we don't want any cops looking into. I left last night to track down the two men they put in hospital and make sure there wasn't going to be any repercussions."
Clive nodded, as though thinking about Trent's explanation. Or perhaps he was waiting for more, but Trent had played this silent game before and he was good at it. He didn't have anything else to say. No matter how much he was fuming inside. He wasn't sure what was making him angrier – Stephanie and her attention seeking games, or the fact that Bob and Todd had beaten up his mate.
"And will there be?" Clive said at last.
"Nope," Trent said. "It's all sorted for now, but Bob and Todd had better stay out of town for a bit."
"Todd won't be out of hospital for a month – his jaw is wired shut and Bob has severe concussion."
Fuck, thought Trent. He didn't think he had hit them that hard. The police are bound to get involved with something like that. But Clive must have read his mind.
"They both had bruised knuckles, clear signs of a fight. We told the law that they were fighting each other."
That was a relief, although if Trent had his way Bob and Todd would be dead for daring to put their hands on his mate. No. No. No. Not going to think about goldilocks. That would not be a good look, especially as his pants tightened at the mere thought of that smooth chest, those defined arms … No! Damn it, Trent knew he had to get control of himself.
"Stephanie is a different matter though," Clive continued. Trent's erection drooped at the mere mention of that name.
"Stephanie is a spoilt bitch who thinks she can get what she wants, when she wants," Trent snapped back without thinking.
"Well, she has her sights set on you, for some reason, and she is making rumbles about the fact that you beat up on Bob and Todd because you didn't like the way they beat up those men."
"I didn't like the way they beat up those men," Trent said. "But not for the reasons she's implying. You know me – I have fucked just about every girl in the place and a lot more besides. But indiscriminate hate crimes, while we have deals going on is plain stupid and you know it."
"Yes, well some of those deals, namely the weapons we've got coming in, are a result of Stephanie's influence. Did you know she was Razor's daughter?"
Trent stilled. Razor, as he was known, was the major gun supplier for the Epitaphs and it was those guns that brought in the profit for the club. If Stephanie got the pip with the Epitaphs it would mean a major drop in income until the club could source another supplier.
"Are you ordering me to fuck her?" Trent said, his cock literally shrinking at the thought. He wouldn't do it. He couldn't do it now he had met his mate. That would be cheating plain and simple and even though Trent didn't think he would ever claim the man, well at least not until he had thought things through a bit more, he wouldn't cheat on his golden haired cutie. He had a lot more honor than that.
Fortunately Clive shook his head. "No, I wouldn't do that to you," Clive said slowly. "But if she is unhappy … "
"I know what could happen," Trent said, thinking fast. "Look would you rather I left the club?" He didn't want to go, the club had been his main source of friends and companionship for ten basically good years, but he had been a lone wolf a lot longer, and if he left the club … well, then there was no reason he couldn't claim his little hottie. They could move away somewhere, just the two of them …
But Clive smashed his little fantasy before it even got started. "No," the President said flatly. "I'll handle Stephanie. We've got too much going on, and word on the street is that we might be facing some territorial disputes soon. Your place is here, doing your job and protecting this club. Just try not to beat up too many more of our own club members."
Nodding, Trent stood and left the room. Ignoring the expectant looking Stephanie, who had been hanging around the office door, he went straight to the bar. Who cared if it was only ten o'clock in the morning – he needed a drink. He needed a lot of drinks.
/~/~/~/~/
Eight hours later, Trent was no drunker than when he started – the joys of being a wolf shifter. His metabolism was so fast that it burned through the alcohol the moment it hit his blood stream. Grimacing at the line of bottles and shot glasses piled up in front of him, Trent decided to just give up and head home. All he could think about was the little Omega that the Fates had decided was his. His well-formed body, his gorgeous face, that long blond hair that looked like spun silk. That tent in the man's towel indicating a cock of a decent length. Every cell in Trent's body longed to be with the little man until he couldn't think of anything else. It would mean giving up the club, but Trent was well past caring about that. It was about time he moved on anyway, given that he didn't age like the people around him. Taking his mate with him would make that prospect a whole lot more pleasurable.
Shaking his head trying to get it straight enough for long enough to get home at least, Trent picked up his jacket, turning to leave the bar. And bumped straight into Stephanie, who had been standing behind him apparently about to tap him on the shoulder, if her raised hand was any indication.
"Yes?" Okay, he might have growled. He was so not in the mood for small talk, especially with a bitch who was out to cause him trouble he didn't need.
Stephanie looked a little unsure of herself for a moment, but then she smiled at him, and Trent felt a twinge in his stomach. Nothing good ever came from a smile like that.