Page 1 of Jared

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“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, just don't do any more.”

Jared couldn't believe how quickly his day had gone to shit. One minute he was having the most perfect of days, and now here he was begging quite possibly for his very life.

How had it come to this? Just please, don't do any more...

Steve sniffed the air. He really hated it when his friends dragged him out of his house to places like these. He knew they meant well, but he knew this evening was going to be another bust for him. Not only were the scents overwhelming, a miasma of co-mingled sweat, scented deodorants, and colognes with notes of sexual arousal and even less pleasingly, also of industrial cleaners.

Ugh.

He winced as the scents assaulted his senses, the beginnings of a pounding headache already starting to form. The music didn't help matters any. Thumping dance music pounded his ears, adding to the din starting to reverberate through his skull.

I honestly don't know how they stand it. He glanced at his friends. Surely this is just as much an assault on their shifter senses as it is on mine. Just look at them all. Huge grins, Jeff there already throwing his hands in the air and making his way to the dance floor while

Tim looks like he's eying a buffet.

“Don't be such a grump, Steve. It'll do you good to let your hair down a little. Have a few drinks, maybe go out on the dance floor. Hell, see if there's a guy here you can go have a little fun with. I'm, telling you, you need to get laid, man.”

Steve eyed him sourly. “I need to get laid, huh? How about I forget about hanging around here, getting a migraine, and finding a human to mess around with? I can get laid next week at the inter-pack run. In the meantime, I can have some beers at home, make good use of my hand, and pretend that neither my best friends nor my parents are obsessing over my sex life, okay?”

Tim winced. “They still harping on at you about not being mated?” He sat down in one of the seats at the bar. Steve sighed and joined him, accepting the beer Tim ordered for him once the bartender made his way to them.

“Yeah. My Dad won't step down and retire as Alpha until I'm mated and Mom is more than ready to shed the responsibility they've had. She's looking forward to getting to travel once he's retired and says she's worried about me. Says that true mates like her and Dad find each other only rarely and that after 50 some years, if it hasn't happened yet, I should consider finding someone capable of fulfilling the role of Alpha Mate. Obviously, someone I find compatible, but I just don't seem to be able to find anyone I see spending the next few hundred years with, you know?”

Tim nodded. “I get you. It's a long time to spend with someone you bind your soul to, especially if it goes south later. The role of Alpha Mate is too important to pick just anybody, either. Plus, I see your folks and wish I could have that sort of deep connection they have as true mates for myself. They have that something extra you don't see in bond mates. Only ever felt that around true mates, rare as it is. But, don't let that stop you from having a bit of fun here tonight.”

“Doesn't the noise bother you?”

“You're not wearing plugs?” Tim asked incredulously.

“Plugs?”

Tim reached inside one ear and pulled out a discreet flesh colored bit of foam. “These muffle the sound. Can still hear thanks to our abilities, but it sure deadens the cacophony.”

“Shit. Why didn't anyone tell me?”

“Man, I thought everyone knew that,” Tim said shaking his head.

“I don't suppose you have any spares?” Steve asked, taking a swig out of his glass.

“Yeah, I have some in the car. Keep them in the glove box for when Jeff and I decide to go club hopping. He's terrible for forgetting to put his in. I can go get them for you, no problem. Just wait here a minute, okay?”

Steve placed his hand on Tim's arm as he rose from his barstool. “Nah, that's okay. Just give me your keys and I'll fetch them. It'll give me a chance to let my ears stop ringing.” He grinned sardonically at his friend.

Tim laughed. “Yeah, okay.” He fished his keys out of his pocket. “Here you go. You know which car's mine.”

Steve took the keys in his right hand and used his left to clap Tim on the shoulder. “As if I could mistake your piece of shit for any other so-called car.”

“Hey, now,” Tim protested. Steve just gave him another grin, then turned to make his way out of the club. The red armband around his wrist would allow him back inside.

Well, if I want back inside. Yeah, I best go back inside after. Can take awhile to clear my head first though, after finding the plugs and putting them in.

The bouncer barely gave him a nod as he made his way out of the door. The parking lot out front was brightly lit, the spaces at the side less so. That didn't matter so much to Steve however. His wolf endowed him with keen eyesight that included excellent night vision. He walked confidently towards the where the car was parked along the side of the club. He'd just reached Tim's car when he heard it. The sound was muffled, but it was unmistakeable. A man was crying, while another seemed to be cursing in a low, guttural tone. Steve popped his eardrums, willing the ringing to stop so he could better triangulate the sound. He cocked his head to one side. There. It seemed to be coming from the alley he could see running behind the club, meeting the street that ran behind this part of the parking lot. He strode forward towards the sound. If someone was indeed sobbing, nothing good could be going on back there.

He rounded the corner just as two men came barreling out from the alley, looking away from him as they took note of his presence. They hurried even faster towards the parking lot. He turned, about to follow them. The sobs grew louder from the alley at his back. Pivoting on his heel, Steve hurried towards the sound. He peered into the dimly lit gloom.

There, by the far corner of the dumpster.