Chapter 3 : Sheep in Wolf's Skin

Kenny's POV "—And that's the problem with the youth today! All this rock and roll—" "Old Fatso can sit on it," Jojo muttered darkly in the driver's seat, licking powder sugar off his fingertips with a rough tongue. I turned the knob down on the radio—we didn't need to hear any more of that kind of garbage. "Talkin' like he knows anythin' about us." He's having a hard day, and is antsy because Eileen Mayweather tried to renege on the deal we'd given her on the new transmission she needed for her '40 Plymouth Woody. He'd felt sorry for the broad—fat with a liter of pups to the point of bursting and everybody and their mother knowing it was an out-of-towner who'd stuck it to her. It happened to Peggy Fitzgerald and Samantha Vines, and it would happen again no doubt. Still, it made us short on rent for this month and I had a feeling Mr. McArthur was tired of giving us extensions. Rocco said he had us, and he always did, but he was spreading himself thin trying to keep up with everything. People didn't like going to an ex-con, even if he was the best damn mechanic on this side of the desert. "Easy, Jojo," I said, blowing smoke to the side of my mouth, watching it filter out the open window. "Don't let the fuckin' dog get you all riled up. You know how you get…" "Yeah, well…" Jojo drummed his hands against the wheel, glaring at the red light like he could will it to turn with anger alone. Shit, with the way Jojo rode into any situation, maybe he could. "Goddess' tits, you'd think they'd fix this shit by now!" "Every time you say the Lady's name in vain, a wolf loses the shift," Toni's voice was a picture-perfect mockery of Sister Giselle's from Temple as he leaned my seat, hooking a bony chin to press up obnoxiously close to me. A spill of unruly golden curls fought the jellyroll Ricky had wrestled his hair into this morning, pomade coming unglued from the combined heat of five teenage boys stuffed like sardines in a Tucker Torpedo and a wealth of cigarette haze. Toni's breath was rank—a mix of the Red Vines he was popping and Lucky Strikes. "Why Mr. Jose Francis Joya, you'll never get into the Elysian Fields with that blasphemous attitude!" Oh shit, he middle-named him. This wasn't going to end well… "Spell it." "What?" "Spell it," Jojo deadpanned, twisting back with the animalistic sound of leather-on-leather. I could see the beginning of black claws starting to peek through his nailbeds. "Well, you heard me, wise guy. Spell the word blasphemous if you're so damn smart." "Aw shit." Ricky looked at me through the rearview mirror, his fogged-up picture of a dick losing focus now that his attention had shifted elsewhere. "Here we fucking go—" "Fellas." Mickey, ever the peacemaker, tried to corral Toni back into the safety of the backseat. His dense black horn-rimmed glasses caught the light of the sun for a moment, shielding worried hazel. "Hey guys, do we gotta do this every time—" "No, we don't," Jojo husked, snapping his fingers for me to pass him another powder donut. He crammed the whole thing in his mouth, crumbs breaking off between fangs. He licked off the powder and I could see his eyes had shifted to a burnt orange of a wolf. Our Alpha. "But Toni likes to tickle my balls every now and again." "I wanna see you cough." And the blond jackass had the audacity to bat his eyelashes, though the effect was ruined when he barked out in a German accent, "Bend ovah!" "Why you fuckin'—" "—Son of a Bitch—" "—DON'T RUIN THE UPHOLSTERY, YOU MOOKS! ROCCO WILL—" "—next time I'm takin' the fuckin' bus—" "QUIET!" They paused—my brothers in leather arms, my fellow Dropouts—in a way that looked straight out of a Tex Avery short. Real fucking Looney Tunes. I had to bite my cheek on the inside to stop myself from laughing at the whole lot of them, aiming for serious. "What's the matter with you boneheads? Actin' like you ain't got no class!" "I got your class right here!" Toni took a hand away from one of Jojo's wrists where he'd been trying to pull the Alpha off him. He cupped his crotch, stroking the fly with a well-practiced thumb. "So good teacher gave me an A!" "Before or after you creamed your pants?" Ricky drawled into the quiet, a deep rumble that fit more on an Alpha than the Beta he was. Like all his other impressions, Toni was playing the part of tomato very well. I don't think I'd ever seen the blond so red. "It was ONE fuckin' time—" Toni finally choked out, eyes going everywhere around the car for something that didn't judge him. "—I was thirteen—" "And you creamed your pants because you held hands with Penny Harris just before you got to the Tunnel of Love," Jojo smirked, patting Toni's curls as one might do to a clever dog. "Aw…" "Fuck you," Toni snapped, little bottom fangs jutting up like a bulldog as he shifted partially, malformed blond triangles of ears poking through his curls. He rounded on Ricky with a clawed finger. "And you! And you," he said pointing at me. "And you!" "Me?" Mickey spread his hand over his chest looking genuinely hurt. "But I didn't even do nothin'!" "You did nothing to prevent it! Just as guilty!" A horn honked—three rapid-fire angry chirps—followed by a, "You're holding up the line!" "Keep your drawers on, Grandpa!" Jojo hollered out the window before he switched into drive, following the procession of cars to the fairgrounds. *** "Kenny's ashamed of us," Toni said, sprawled out in the backseat with his Chuck's dangling over the side. He had three chili dogs resting on his stomach, and a bunch of ketchup splattered across his mouth in a way that would make anyone's stomach roll. "He's got a girl and he doesn't want us to meet her because he's ashamed of us." "That's not what this is about." I mean, it kind of was—sort of. But, I wasn't ashamed of my crew and I don't think David would take too kindly to being called anyone's girl. "I just got somethin' to do is all." "That's suspicious, you know?" Mickey had taken over the co-pilot seat once I'd vacated, rubbing his glasses on the hem of a thin sweater to get it clean. "The way you are phrasing that. It sounds illicit." "Thank you, Einstein!" Toni gestured messily, bits of chili dog raining down on him. "It's fucking shady is what it is! Thus the sweetheart theory!" "What's this about a sweetheart?" Ah, that's the last thing I needed. Jojo had been suspicious of me skipping out on group activities since this mess started. He and Ricky had their hands full with various snacks and junk from the stands, and we helped to sort them out among ourselves. "One of you actually gets your dicks wet? Should I have checked to see if they were sellin' cigars?" "It's a boy!" And I froze on the spot, luckily my gang erupted into bawdy laughter so no one noticed. I shifted awkwardly, but Toni was relentless with the thought. "I mean, there are some Omega men—" "—Oh here we go—" "—If you like dick so much Toni, I got some Italian sausage right here—" "Ah, can it!" More laughter, but I felt uncomfortable with the direction this was going in. "Some real Abbott and Costello are here tonight, woof! But no, seriously, you tellin' me you guys ain't never get hard at the sight of no Omega bitch?" "Candyboys," Jojo laughed, a mix of rough and dreamy, that had me squirming. "The ones you see on the corner in the big cities. Bottom bitches." "Real fuckin' sluts," Toni grossed with a snap and a finger gun to draw us all in. Ricky slapped at his feet to make room so the blond wouldn't have crowded him, his giant frame finally able to spread out so his knees wouldn't knock into his chest. They all leaned in, eager to hear, and I unwillingly joined, stomach rolling. "Heard they give a blowie better than any female that's for sure. "'Cause, they know how it works. There's no guesswork, just cummin'." "Do girls not know how?" Mickey asked awed, tanned cheeks tainted pink. "Virgin, over here—" "You're one to fuckin' talk, Goldilocks…" "You wanna start, Big Foot?" "Quiet!" Jojo knocked his shoulders into Mickey, before ruffling his hair with an affectionate smile. "Yeah buddy, chicks don't get it at first. You gotta tell 'em what you like. Despite what their lips look like, they weren't born to know how to blow—" "Except Omega men!" Toni cackled, "Of course, I bet it'd feel better as an Alpha. That bond sounds like a fuckin' dream." "It is pretty great," Jojo admitted with a half-assed shrug. Besides him and Ricky, they were the only ones out of the Dropouts who'd gone all the way. "But Omegas are all the same, y'know? Just a bunch 'o cock hungry dumb sluts." Ah, there it was, the fucking kicker. "Hey, Kenny! You all right? You look—" "O'Rourke!" We all looked up, though I kept my head down until I could hear his shoes scuffling over rocks and stray branches. "You're comin' with me!" "Like hell he is!" Jojo barked, as he leaped out of the car to shove me behind him. His claws were fully extended now, the wicked curve of black digging into my jacket. "The fuck do you want, Hurt!?" "That's none of your business, Joya!" David was in full regalia today, his letterman jacket a bright bit of red and white against the flat plains and the indigo sky. His blond hair had been freshly cut into a crew that left his ears naked to the elements and made his green eyes brighter—copper fire bright. He had his fellow Patriots behind him, all wearing similar jackets. The whole damn football team by the way their numbers flanked out. Outnumbering us three to one. I could see ears popping up on Mickey's head, soft brown flickering back in caution. "Then I'll make it my business.=," Jojo snarled, and hair sprouted thick down his sideburns, ears fully shifted. Still a man, but not by much. Out of the corner of my periphery, I spotted a few cops eyeing us with interest in-between bites of candied apples. Shit. "Jose." I didn't use his real name often but it had the effect I wanted. I couldn't risk him starting shit and throwing this deal of mine out of orbit. He had no idea what was at risk here. "It's all right. You know me, I got this." "Yeah, he's got this," David mocked, and I sent him a withering look. "So let's go." "Do me a favor and give him a black eye will ya?" Jojo was trying to sound casual, but his eyes betrayed how concerned for me he was. He didn't like how secretive I'd been or how this might be connected to an asshole like Hurt. Alpha's were supposed to be leaders of the pack, but they were also protectors and I was straying. He squeezed my shoulder hard as I brushed past him. "You give us the word and we'll be on him like white on rice." "Gotcha." And I followed David up the hill, his boys blocking the way for my fellow Dropouts. I'd never felt more like a lamb for slaughter than at that moment.