Page 129 of Wicked Savage Wolves
“I said I’m good,” he snaps. Antonio hangs his head, palms clenched into fists at his sides and shoulders shaking as he fights to contain his wolf. “I fucking hate this.” He moves further down the hall to the kitchen.
I grab two beers from the fridge, open both, and hand one to him across the table before taking a seat. The alcohol will do little to dull whatever he’s feeling right now, but it’s all we’ve got in the house at the moment aside from water.
“What’s the plan?” I ask, hoping he’s come up with something. Raul is getting worse, and we all have shit going on. We do our best to protect Sofia, but one of these days he’s bound to come up on her alone, and none of us knows what will happen when that day comes. Until or unless he crosses that line and becomes a rogue, the Pack can’t intervene. She’s still his. He has rights or whatever.
“I don’t know, man.” He’s fighting exhaustion. Shit. We both are. Too much has happened today. Too many things to process. To try and figure out.
“What are you doing home so late? I figured you’d have been here earlier, or later if you crashed at Rafael’s.”
I debate telling him about César, but before I can make up my mind, my brother proves just how well he knows me with his next words. “What happened?”
“It can wait.”
Antonio shakes his head. “No. Don’t do that. I know you’ve got your boys, but you got me too. Come on, Jordy. What happened?”
I grind my teeth as frustration radiates through every cell in my body. I want to tell him. I want his support, but Antonio doesn’t do well when his plate is full. He’s like Roberto. He bails rather than dealing with it. He might be doing better than our oldest brother—when shit got too real, he joined a different Pack and never looked back. Antonio, at least, stuck around after his eighteenth birthday—but he still takes off sometimes for a week or more at a time.
“J?”
“Don’t you dare bail, you got me?”
His eyes widen, but he nods. “I won’t bail.”
“I’m serious, Antonio. I can’t deal with Raul and my own shit right now. Not by myself.”
He nods his head, his face twisted into a solemn expression. “I won’t leave.”
“Okay.” I hesitate and have to swallow past the lump in my throat. “I have a kid.”
His eyes widen to the size of saucers. “You knocked someone up? Who? Fuck. What Clan?”
“That’s just it...” I rub the back of my neck. “They’re not Pack. A year and a half ago, I met this chick at a party. We did the deed and well, I just found out tonight that she had my kid. A boy.”
He curses and drops his head into his hands. “Shit. A human?”
I shake my head. “Nah. She’s a psyker. Hydrokinetic.”
“And you’re sure the kid is yours?”
A growl rumbles deep in my chest. “Yeah, cabrón, I’m sure. My wolf is too.” César is mine. I have zero doubts.
“We need to call Roberto.”
“What?” I shove away from the table. “Why the hell would we call him? He left!” I hiss, but Antonio just shakes his head.
“Can you think of a better option? Raul is a problem. A big one. And now you have a kid. What are you going to do if you have him here and Raul shows up? Huh? Have you even thought that far? How do you think that fucker is going to react to the fact you knocked up someone that isn’t a wolf?”
My blood turns to ice as I digest his words because no, I hadn’t thought that far. Raul is a purist. He hates the outside world. Looks down on anyone who isn’t a shifter. I wouldn’t put it past him to kill his own grandson.Dammit.
I’m still dealing with the fact that I’m a dad. I hadn’t even considered just how vulnerable my kid would be. How dangerous having him with me could be for him.
If Joaninha finds out what Raul is capable of, hell, or even how biased many within the Pack can be, no way would she let me be in his life. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“He isn’t Pack, anymore. There’s nothing he can do—”
“He’ll come.”
“But—”
