When he arrived home at 4 AM, Theron dropped his backpack in the living room and stood outside Kitra's door, simmering with guilt. He feared how much of what happened would get back to her. It was nice to be sexually gratified after Sadie nearly chopped his dick off, and relieving to know that Liam didn't hate him. But now he faced the gauntlet of his heart and identity to figure out what he wanted from Liam—did he want to tack benefits onto their friendship? Did Liam want more than that? In the face of Sadie's return, could he really just... move on with somebody else? The answer would have been no if it was just anyone, but Liam was his possession too.
Did that make him gay? ...He definitely wasn't. Bisexual? It wasn't like he'd fuck just anyone. They had to mean something... Tangled up in his thoughts, Theron inhaled, then realized the only smell in the house was Kitra's stale footsteps from earlier Friday morning. She hadn't come home yet.
"Kit?" he said dumbly, as if she'd suddenly appear.
He received only silence. Shit. Ah, fuck! Theron dug his phone out of his pocket. He hadn't gotten any texts besides one from Liam around midnight. The text was a winky-face with a photo attached: a dick pic in a cracked bathroom mirror. He texted back, Fuck you man.
There remained the mystery of where Kitra was. He texted her next. You're not home? Where are you?
Then he stood there for a few minutes, as if expecting she'd promptly reply at 4 in the morning.
He texted Liam. Where's Kitra?
He texted Dorothy. Where's Kitra?
He even texted Gabby. Where's Kitra?
After ten minutes of Theron anxiously pacing through the house, Gabby finally texted him back. We're at the pack house. She's asleep. Sorry, I thought she texted you.
What's she doing there?
It was a late night. Sorry, I have to go. We're hunting.
Gabby's sorrys meant nothing to him. Annoyed, he texted back, Cool. Have fun. It wasn't like he wanted to go for a hunt. Theron grumbled and undressed, climbing into bed with his anger.
He hated not knowing what was happening. He hated being a world away from everybody else. Most of all, he hated that Liam plagued him with confusing and desperate feelings, yet he was the one at the pack house with his sister while Theron was exiled to their bungalow, alone and insecure.
That morning, he was jarred awake by his ringtone. Theron wrenched his head off the pillow and fumbled over the side of the bed, holding the phone to his ear. "Hello?"
"Come to the pack house right now," demanded Frank.
Theron stared blearily at the wall. "What time is it?" He checked. "It's 8 AM."
"And?"
"Is it an emergency?"
"Yes."
Theron sat up. "Is Kitra okay?"
"Yes."
Theron laid back down. "Then what's the emergency?"
"You being a dumbass and talking to the police," said Frank.
And then Theron realized he hadn't informed Frank about the police visit yesterday. "Can't it wait a couple hours? I barely slept."
"No. Get over here now."
He'd been working supershifts for a couple years now, and still nobody cared that Theron couldn't wake up as early as he used to. He sighed. "Fine."
YOU ARE READING
BLOOD DREAM (Ongoing)
Paranormal24-year-old Theron was the spoiled brat son of a wolf shifter Alpha--until his fated mate, a puma shifter named Sadie, murdered his father. As the consequences of his abusive behavior, Theron lost his friends, girlfriend, and the respect of his pack...
