KNUD, Her Big Bad Wolf: 50 Loving States, Kansas Page 7

  “I don’t need to…” She trailed off in that way of hers, like her mind was throwing up a wall to block what she was about to say, and forcing her to manufacture a new and improved sentence. “I’m truly fine with walking home. I prefer it. And trust me, I can take care of myself.”

  His human did trust her to get home by herself, and moreover refused to entertain the notion of caring either way. But his wolf glared at him for letting her go anywhere alone this late at night.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to take the dog with me?” she asked.

  He winced, hating the sound of that word on her lips. Even though she couldn’t possibly know what she was saying. “Nah, I got it.”

  “Okay, I’ll take my leave then.”

  Yeah, that’s what should happen. She needed to get out of here so she wouldn’t be anywhere in the vicinity when Jandro shifted back into his human form.

  But instead of letting her go, he did the opposite. Caught her by the hand and said, “Hey, L-heart,” giving voice for the first time to the name Jandro had given her. “I’ll text you.”

  “Yes, you may.” She smiled up at him. But it was all wrong. Bright and happy mouth on the bottom. Sad eyes on the top. “But it’s not necessary to make any promises. In fact, we should probably establish more boundaries so our arrangement doesn’t become inconvenient for either of us.”

  She was right about that. Nonetheless, he repeated, “I’ll text you.”

  And when another protest formed on her lips, he said it again, “I’ll text you.”

  “Okay,” she answered, her voice whisper soft. “You’ll text me.”

  “And when I do, you’ll text me back. I can’t host tonight, but I want you to text me back.”

  This time when she smiled it actually reached her eyes. “I will text you back,” she finally agreed. “But for the record—”

  Her “I will” was all he needed. He quickly kissed her before she could finish whatever she was about to say. Yeah, she still talked too much. But he was beginning to find he liked shutting her up so much that he really didn’t mind.

  9

  Early the next morning, Knight sat on the lid of his toilet waiting with a cup of morning coffee until…

  The skinny black-and-tan wolf in his tub suddenly shifted into a skinny nine-year-old boy. Fuck…. Was it possible the kid had actually become even more malnourished than the last time Knight saw him? He was little more than skin on top of bones now.

  “Bucket!” Knight called out, setting his cup of coffee aside so he could make the sign for “bucket” which required both hands. He then quickly pointed at the plastic mop bucket he’d set at the boy’s feet inside the tub.

  A confused look crossed the kid’s face right before his unasked question was answered by a sudden heave of his chest. Sadly, meth withdrawal symptoms were one of the few things shifting into wolf form couldn’t fix.

  The kid might be skinny but he was quick. He managed to grab the bucket and upchuck the pitiful contents of his stomach into the plastic container instead of all over himself.

  “Good work,” Knight signed to him when the upchuck session finally died down to pitiful dry heaving.

  Knight took the bucket to the kitchen and cleaned it out. “You’re lucky. This apartment is so old it still has a tub,” he said to the kid when he returned, and turned the knob on the wall to fill the bath up with warm water.

  “Me not lucky,” the kid signed back morosely, his hands shaking with shivers despite the fact that wolf shifters ran at much higher temperatures than their human counterparts.

  Poor kid wasn’t lying about that. Meth withdrawal was a bitch—which was why no shifter doctor ever advised it as a good way to keep your wolf under control. But since shifters weren’t supposed to exist, there wasn’t exactly a PSA going around about this. It was one of those things parents were supposed to know and pass down to their kids.

  But obviously Jandro had drawn the shittiest hand when it came to the parent cards he’d been dealt.

  “Hope you ain’t into bubbles because I don’t have any of that shit here,” he spoke signed to the kid.

  The kid squinted at him. “You don’t talk like doctor.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he answered. “Hot Social Worker brought that up, too.”

  Knight got a towel out of the bathroom closet and set it on the toilet lid before speak-signing to the kid, “Good job crawling your ass over here, by the way.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t know where else to go,” the kid signed apologetically. “You said I could—”

  “DON’T apologize,” Knight cut him off, angry that the kid would even think for a second he’d done something wrong when all the wrong shit had been done to him. “I’m being serious. You did the right thing coming here. And I’m glad you made it. Now, can you tell me what happened?”

  Jandro did, signing jerkily over the details. He’d scored some meth from one of the older kids at the home and that got him through the last full moon. But this time the withdrawal symptoms hit him way worse than before.

  He couldn’t go to the WCH social worker because the home had a strict no drugs policy. If he started throwing up again they’d take him to the doctor. And even though Knight had helped him before, he had no way of knowing if he’d be able to cover for him a second time. So he’d stolen a bag from the drug dealer when he wasn’t looking. Just a fourth of an eight ball. But the dealer caught him in the basement trying to steal from him. He didn’t even give Jandro a chance to explain, just stabbed him in the gut and walked away, leaving him to die in the home’s basement.

  Good thing Jandro had a way out…with his wolf, Knight thought to himself after the fucked-up story was done. But not really lucky because he shouldn’t have still been at the home in the first place. Damn system.

  “Finish cleaning up,” he signed. “I’ll take you back to the home.”

  “Okay,” Jandro agreed. “But my clothes downstairs. Can you get them for me?”

  “No, I can’t get your bloodstained clothes for you because I threw them away,” he answered. Then he pointed to the work stool he’d placed next to the bathtub. “Wear those instead.”

  Jandro’s eyes widened when he saw the pair of shorts and Deadpool tee on top of the stool. “You buy clothes?”

  “Yeah,” Knight signed back.

  “For me?” Jandro signed.

  “No, for me because I like dressing up in kid clothes. That’s what I call fun,” he answered.

  But Knight immediately stopped with the sarcasm when he saw real tears pooling in the kid’s eyes. Like kindness felt rough on his skin. Hurt him in ways that ODs and withdrawal symptoms couldn’t.

  “Anyway,” Knight said aloud. Then he cleared his throat and raised his hands to speak sign, “I think they fit. Got a size nine. But I’m still not clear on this kid sizing stuff.”

  Jandro didn’t answer. Just downshifted his eyes.

  No words. However, Knight got the message. Thanks for the clothes, but could you get out of here so I can cry while naked in the bathtub without feeling like I’ve lost my pride, too? For real, man, it’s the only thing I have left.

  As Knight stood up and headed for the door, he decided he wouldn’t just drop the kid off. He was going to talk to Olcan himself, make sure she prioritized getting this kid a fucking placement already.

  But as it turned out, she had.

  “I’m sorry,” she told the shifter who’d pushed his way into her closet of an office at the children’s home. “I contacted the Kansas pack and they said they’re already at full capacity as far as meth orphans go.”

  What the hell? “Kingdom towns are required to foster all orphans in their state,” Knight answered.

  “Well, that’s not actually an official law. It’s more like a code of conduct that’s not really enforceable,” Olcan answered tightly.

  “Okay then, I guess I’ll just go pay the Kansas king a visit,” he said, shaking his head at her bureaucratic bullshit.
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br />   “You could do that, Dr. Knight,” she answered with an irritated look. “But from the sound of it, the kingdom is overwhelmed with this meth orphan epidemic. They also don’t have the resources for a boy in Alejandro’s…” she stopped, reminding him of Hot Social Worker but not in a good way, before she quickly finished her sentence with, “…situation.”

  “His situation,” Knight repeated, feeling the old red anger rise up in him for the second time in as many days. “What does that mean?”

  Olcan thinned her lips. “It means I have a roster full of human boys I can’t find foster homes for. This boy is deaf, can’t write, barely reads, and he doesn’t have bioware. So far, I can’t find a single deaf wolf in all of Kansas who knows ASL and is willing to foster him. ASL is the new Latin as far as humans and wolves are concerned. And from what I understand, there’s only one person in our entire department who speaks the language and she’s technically only interning with us because—”

  “Yeah, I’ve met her,” he said, cutting Olcan off.

  Knight hated this. Hated the way Olcan talked about the kid like he was nothing more than damaged goods. Jandro not only hadn’t made this lady’s job any harder by wolfing out during the last full moon, but he’d also managed to stay alive after being stabbed by one of her precious human boys.

  But of course, Knight couldn’t tell her any of this since she was the person in charge of making sure the boys at the home remained drug free. So instead he said, “You talk about him like he’s a lost cause, but he’s worth something, dammit. He’s worth fighting for—”

  “I’m doing the best I can, Dr. Knight,” she answered with an aggravated roll of her eyes.

  At which point, he leaped out of his seat to roar, “Well, the best you can isn’t worth a damn if that kid has to spend another full moon in this mangy shithole!”

  Silence descended, fraught with tension as she stared at him in wide-eyed fear.

  And there it was. The red anger. This is how it worked. It hid out in the shadows. Pretending to play dead as Knight went about his carefully controlled life. But as soon as any kind of conflict arose, no matter how small, BAM! There it was. There it always fucking was.

  He wanted to shift. His wolf called to him in those moments, offering him a reprieve from the red anger and the shame it always left in its aftermath. But the first rule of Wolf Force: don’t shift near civilians. For any reason.

  He sat down with the voice of his childhood therapist ringing in his head, Apologizing after an episode is always better than just shifting out.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled. “What I’m trying to say is he’s worth something. Jandro’s worth something.”

  Olcan regarded him with tight-lipped defensiveness. “I’m sorry if our little mange state doesn’t compare to whatever state pack you’re from…”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying,” he started, though he realized how she might interpret his words that way. Even more so if she knew his real family name and his background.

  She kept on going. “But Oklahoma withstanding, there aren’t many resources for boys like Jandro. I’m sorry if that upsets you, but that’s the reality. And though I’ll try my best to find him a placement before the next full moon, I’m afraid…”

  She went on like that for a little while longer, but Knight stopped listening soon after the two words he hadn’t expected to hear. Oklahoma withstanding…

  Oklahoma withstanding…

  Fuck, he thought to himself. He might have to do something to help this kid. Something he really, really didn’t want to do.

  10

  Knight spent the rest of his day putting a “just in case” plan together. Taking a pay-as-you-go phone out of his stash and placing it in a manila envelope, just in case. Covering the envelope with enough federal Forever stamps to get the thing to Timbuktu, just in case, before writing down an address deep in the panhandle of Oklahoma.

  He almost wrote his fake name across the fake return address he’d put on the envelope, but no…he couldn’t risk them throwing the phone out, seeing as how there wasn’t any kind of note inside.

  So just in case, he wrote his real name above the fake address.

  Then he drove all the way down to Braman, Oklahoma. A little nothing town with a population of 300. But it did have a solitary USPS office going for it, and a gas station so that the very few people who still drove gas-powered manual cars could fill up on their way to places that actually mattered. Knight took advantage of both, filling up at the gas station before sliding the yellow-orange envelope across the blue laminate post office counter.

  “Wolf Haven,” the old guy behind the counter read. “Never heard of it.”

  Yeah, most humans hadn’t. And despite the fact that Oklahoma had risen quite a bit in status since it’s mange state days, it’s kingdom town still had a “no humans allowed” policy on the books.

  “Where’s it at?” asked the old timer.

  “Deep in the pan-handle,” Knight answered.

  “No wonder I haven’t heard of it. They probably don’t have many more people than we do.”

  Wolf Haven was up to 2,000 people these days, but Knight didn’t bother answering because the mail clerk would likely be surprised and ask questions. This was a just in case mission, which meant everything should be kept capital NTK.

  But the old timer kept reading the envelope like it was the most interesting thing he’d come across in years.

  “Knud…” the man said, pronouncing it all wrong, like nude. “Well, isn’t that an interesting name...”

  Knight didn’t hear the rest of the comment because he was already pushing open the door without bothering to say good-bye.

  He was surprised when his pay-as-you-go phone dinged just as he got back in his truck. And his wolf sat forward, wanting to know if the message was from the woman it desperately wanted to hear from.

  It was—which made this the first time Hot Social Worker had ever initiated contact.

  “Thank you for dealing with the poor furbaby last night. May I come over this evening around 9pm, so we might hit it and quit it?”

  He didn’t laugh, but his mouth quirked up as he typed back. “Yeah. Come over if you wanna.” He kept his language casual, even though his wolf’s tail was at full wag.

  She arrived at 20:58 with a sheet of old-fashioned paper in her hand.

  “Hello, Buddy, thank you for having me over,” she said as she walked in. “You’ll be happy to know I followed up on our boundaries conversation from last night.”

  “That wasn’t really a conversation…” He inhaled deeply. Her scent had a weird undertone tonight. He picked out the smells: heightened adrenalin and cortisol. Acrid and bitter. Upset. She was upset about something and it had happened recently. “What’s going on?” he asked carefully.

  “Great question, Buddy. I’ve been doing some research on sex buddy boundaries, and as it turns out the internet has quite a lot to say on the subject. Taking that into account, I’ve made a list of governing rules for our arrangement—do you by chance have any tape?”

  He startled, not understanding the question at first. “You mean like tape-tape?”

  “Yes, scotch tape. We should post this on the wall,” she said, flapping the sheet of paper in her hand.

  “I mean, maybe I’ve got some tape at the office.”

  She frowned at the piece of paper, then at the wall she wanted to post it on. “I suppose we could use a tack or a hammer and nail. Do you have anything like that…?”

  But then she trailed off, looking around the apartment. “I’ve just now realized you don’t have anything posted on your walls, not even a poster.”

  “I’m only doing my residency here,” he pointed out, feeling a little defensive. “Who knows where I’ll end up next.”

  She peeped up at him. “You’ll be leaving Kansas soon, then?”

  “No, not that soon. But yeah, I’ll get my new placement around June or July. You too, right?”

 
; “Yes…maybe. I don’t know. I’ve been offered a full-time position at DWCS. I might stay. I like it in Kansas. I feel free, and like I’m a true benefit to the community I serve here.”

  Okay… so maybe they could keep this thing going for another few months. But before he could ask a follow up question, she rushed to ask, “Are you sure you don’t have anything we could use to hang this piece of paper? Perhaps one of those stickers you hand out to children?”

  “I don’t hand out stickers.”

  “Of course you don’t,” she answered with a teasing smile. “That would mean you have a bedside manner suited to working with children.”

  He shrugged. “My job’s mostly running tech. Unless something goes wrong, usually it’s only the nurses who deal directly with the kids. It’s not like on those hospital shows. Plus, nobody cares about my bedside manner when I’m saving kids’ lives.”

  “Yes, but you’re Jandro’s primary, so you do occasionally see patients face to face.”

  Mine field. But he avoided it by pointing out, “I see you remember that kid’s name even though you don’t remember mine.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I remembered his name, because he’s a deaf child with a tragic backstory. You’re a lothario doctor who doesn’t care about anyone but himself. Trust me, it was easy to forget your name as soon as I walked out of the building.”

  She was still smiling. But wow…his second big silence of the day. And this time he got to be the one to stare at the other person in the argument like she’d lost her damn mind.

  “Oh, my gosh,” she said, scrubbing a hand over her eyes. “I’m sorry....”

  “So we’re fighting about stickers now?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “No, we’re not fighting about stickers. I shouldn’t have said that to you. I was trying to make a joke in the same vein as you often do, but it came off as incredibly mean and I’m terribly sorry. Please forgive my appalling lack of manners.”

  She smiled at him and it seemed sincere, but he could still smell how upset she was about…something—not this conversation, but something else. And it made his wolf want to dig.