To Love A Beast | Gay MxM |

9. Solving Problems

"Chase, my boy!" he practically yelled in my ear and burst out laughing.

"You're drunk," I sighed. It wasn't like I expected him to be sober, but I kind of wished he was. He was annoying when he was drunk.

"A little tipsy, yes," he replied and immediately started talking to someone else. I could hear a couple of women close by.

"Frank? Frank!"

"So? How are you?" Frank asked, and I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or someone else.

"What time is it where you are?" I asked in annoyance.

"It's around Saturday."

"It's not Saturday," I sighed and went to sit behind the counter.

"Oh? Well, it must be Saturday somewhere!" he laughed loudly, and I could hear him open another bottle of beer. "Cheers!"

"Could you listen for a moment?" I asked. "I have a sick werewolf in my hands, and I need help."

"You know boy, there are two things in this world that don't fit in one sentence. Sick and werewolf," he spoke, sounding almost serious this time.

"Well, they do now. There's something wrong with his blood," I said, hoping he wouldn't start asking questions.

"Is it green?"

"No...? Why would it be green?"

"Then how do you know there's something wrong?" he asked, and I was happy to hear he was now paying attention.

"I just do," I muttered, and he let out a disbelieving huff. "Somebody did something to him, all right?"

"All right. If somebody did something to his blood, then you'll need to visit an alchemist," he told me. "Or a witch doctor, but I'd go to an alchemist first."

"I don't know if that's an option," I said quietly.

Frank didn't say anything right away. I could almost see him staring at me sternly through the distance.

"You don't call, you don't text, and last time I saw you, you said you're 'smart enough to deal with everything' when I was about to leave," he then spoke slowly and quietly. "What's going on?"

"Nothing special," I said innocently.

"Nice try – you're too proud to call me if it isn't an emergency. Did you do something to that poor bastard?"

"What? No!"

"You sure?"

"I had nothing to do with that. He came to me because he remembered me, that's all," I told him.

"Fine, fine... Could you be more specific about what was done to him?"

I rubbed my forehead, trying to decide if I should tell him the whole story or not. I knew I could trust him as long as he was sober, but since he was a notorious drunk and always trying to tell the craziest stories to whoever was listening...

"Not really," I eventually sighed. "He's in trouble and needs to lay low for a while."

I heard a few curse words coming from his end. "If anything happens to my shop, I swear–"

"Why would anything happen to our shop?" I frowned.

"Because I know you! If a guy comes flexing his biceps, you'll toss your brain straight out the window. You don't care if it's dangerous or not as long as the guy is hot!"