Full Moon Mating [Wolf Creek Pack 1] (2 page)

As he drove the few blocks down the road to the county hospital, he glanced into the backseat several times, checking on the unconscious man. He was young, but there was an ageless wisdom in his eyes. Joe had noticed it right away. This young man had experienced more in his few years than most people had in a lifetime.

Joe just wondered what.

After pulling into the emergency area of the hospital, he quickly walked inside and called for assistance. A nurse and aide followed him out with the gurney. Joe opened the door and lifted the man out of the vehicle and onto the gurney.

“He suffered a seizure outside of Garner’s Market,” he explained to the nurse as the man was wheeled into the hospital. Joe followed right behind. He was not going to let him out of his sight until he knew for sure whether the little man was innocent or not…and maybe not even then.

Following the nurse into a small emergency room, he stationed himself against the wall and well out of the way of the emergency personnel. He watched with some interest as they took his vitals and checked him over.

Finally the doctor turned to face Joe. “Well, it looks like he’s fine.

Depending on how long he’s out depends on how long we keep him.”

“He had a seizure,” Joe said. “Is he epileptic?”

“I can’t be sure without doing more tests. But he can tell us when he comes to. Until then, all we can do is keep an eye on him. I’ll be back to check on him in a little while. If he wakes up, call the nurse.”

“Thanks, Doc.” Joe shook Dr. Jones’s hand as he walked towards the door.

“No problem, Joe. You think he had anything to do with Old Man Garner getting shot?”

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Joe shook his head. “No, not really. But until I know differently, he will remain a suspect. How is Garner? Any word yet?”

Doc shook his head. “No, he’s still in surgery. But whoever did CPR on him probably saved his life, though.”

“Really? Why do you say that?”

“The gunshot wound was pretty much superficial. The bullet entered his chest but was reflected off a rib bone. That saved it from entering his heart, but it did nick his lung. With surgery it is easily fixed, but the damage did prevent Garner from breathing properly. If he hadn’t gotten oxygen, he definitely would have died before medical personnel could have gotten to him. Did you do it?”

Joe shook his head. “Nope, he did.” He pointed to the sleeping man in the bed.

“He did it? He performed CPR? He doesn’t look old enough to shave. How could he possibly know how to perform CPR?” the doctor asked, skeptical of what Joe was saying.

“I was there. I watched him do it,” Joe replied.

“I’ll be damned. Hmmm…go figure...I wonder where he learned it?”

“I have no idea.” Joe said as he watched the doc leave the room, the door closing quietly behind him before looking back at Nate. This young man had a story to tell, and Joe wanted to know what it was.

Grabbing a chair, he pulled it over next to the bed and sat down.

He wasn’t planning on moving until he got some answers, answers that only the unconscious man in the bed could give him.

* * * *

Nate came back to consciousness in a blink of an eye. One moment he was in total black fog; the next moment blaring white lights were shining him in the face. Nate went to raise his hands to cover his eyes only to find that he couldn’t. He was restrained.

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For a moment he thought he was back in the horrible hell he had been living in for as long as he could remember. But memories of the day’s events started flooding in, reminding him that he had escaped hell, maybe.

He squeezed his eyes shut, grateful to whoever turned the lights down seconds later. He blinked several times as he opened his eyes, a face slowly coming into focus. Well, hell, it was the sheriff. Which meant he was probably under arrest.

Joe stood up and leaned over Nate. “Would you like some water?”

Nate nodded, his throat feeling rough and parched. He watched as Joe quickly turned and walked out of the room. Pulling on his arms, he tested the strength of the restraints holding his arms down. Crap!

Handcuffs. There were a lot of restraints he could get out of, but handcuffs weren’t one of them.

He quickly dropped his hands back down to the bed when the door opened and a nurse walked in followed by the sheriff, who was holding a glass of ice chips.

“Hello, young man, it’s good to see you awake,” the nurse said as she approached him. When she reached for his arm, Nate tried to pull away but didn’t get far. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes as he held his body perfectly still.

The nurse checked his vitals. “Are you in any pain?” she asked.

Nate quickly shook his head, his eyes still clenched tight.

Joe reached over and laid his hand on Nate’s arm, squeezing it gently. “Man, it’s gonna be okay. She’ll be done in just a moment.”

Nate suddenly popped open his eyes and turned to stare at Joe in confusion. The moment that Joe had touched him, the pain from the nurse’s touch had gone away. He had never had something happen like that, not since his mother had died when he was five. He didn’t understand it.

All of his life he had been susceptible to the touch of other people, to their emotions. The mere brush of skin from someone else could cause him pain. He had learned to block most of it out but not all of it.

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But he had never run into anyone, besides his mother, that had brought him calm and peace until now.

The touch of Joe’s hand on his arm took the pain away. He could still feel the nurse’s emotions, but they were muted, barely on the surface. He could barely feel the sheriff’s emotions either, which really confused him. Everything was muted.

Then the sheriff took his hand away. Nate clenched his eyes tightly closed again as pain and emotions from the nurse swamped him again, a small whimper escaping his mouth. The nurse, while trying to go about her daily business, was filled with depression, longing, need.

It was overwhelming. He dimly heard the sheriff telling the nurse to hurry up, that he didn’t like being touched. Within moments, the nurse finished and left the room. Nate opened his eyes, giving the sheriff a grateful look.

The sheriff nodded. “Do you think you’re up to answering a few questions for me?”

Nate shrugged his shoulders but nodded anyway.

“Good man. Now, did you see who shot Old Man Garner?”

Nate nodded and held up two fingers.

“Two? There were two of them?”

Again, Nate nodded his head. He motioned with his hand for something to write with. The sheriff quickly pulled out his notepad and started to hand it to him when he noticed the handcuffs.

As he reached down to uncuff him, he stated, “I’m going to take this off, but you have to promise me not to run. Okay?”

Nate reluctantly nodded, gulping as he felt the sheriff’s long fingers touch his skin. Each little brush of skin sent electrical shocks through him. It was unnerving. And he wanted more. Grabbing the notepad and pen that the sheriff handed him, Nate began writing.

There was a car pulling out when I drove in. Blue, two doors,
Ford Grenada…older model, maybe early ’70s. License plate PDX

342. It looked there were two people inside. The driver was a white
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male, 20 to 25, medium build, dark hair. The passenger was about the
same age but slimmer build, light brown hair. Oh, and he had a
broken nose.

“Broken nose? You could tell he had a broken nose? Just how close to this other vehicle were you?” Joe asked, surprised as he read what Nate had written.

Not that close, but I did see blood on his face and him holding his
nose. There was a large pool of blood by the front counter and some
on that baseball bat on the floor. I’d say your Mr. Garner whacked
him one. With as much blood as there was, he had to have broken it.

You might want to bag that and get some DNA evidence before
anyone contaminates the scene.

“How do you know the license plate number?”

Photographic memory.

“No shit?” Joe exclaimed, eyebrows raised in surprise. Nate just shrugged his shoulders like it was no big deal.

“So, want to give me your name?”

Joe stared as Nate shook his head.

“Look, I really need to know what to call you. I can’t just keep calling you
man
or
dude
. So, how about it?”

Nate stared at the sheriff for several moments before finally writing something down on the notepad and handing it to him.

Nate.

The sheriff read it, nodding his head. “Okay, Nate it is.” He leaned up and held out his hand to Nate, who took it slowly.

“Welcome to Wolf Creek, Nate.”

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Nate looked at the big man driving the truck he was in as they drove through the small town towards the sheriff’s office. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of him. He was, in a word, breathtaking.

The sheriff stood several inches taller than Nate, a fact that had been brought home when the sheriff had helped Nate get out of his hospital bed. Nate’s head barely came up to the top of the sheriff’s chest.

His dark, tanned skin and long black hair hinted at his Native American heritage, which was in complete contrast to his smoky gray eyes. His hair was in a braid right now, but Nate wondered what it would look like spread across a pillow.

Nate could see himself being tucked into the sheriff’s strong, rippled chest, his head tucked under his chin, and the sheriff’s muscular arms wrapped around him. Just the image alone was enough to send a shudder down Nate’s body.

He had never lusted after anyone in his life. He had actually begun to think he wasn’t interested in sex at all. Back where he was from, he had seen his fellow students and the staff going at it like rabbits, but he had never had the urge…until now.

He had never felt like this in his life, and he didn’t know how to handle it. The overwhelming desire he felt combined with the peace that the sheriff’s touch brought him scared Nate out of his mind. He wondered if it was some new game that the Teacher had conceived.

Nate turned his head to look out the truck window as his fingers pulled at a small rip in the thigh of his faded jeans. He had to figure
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some way out of this mess he had gotten himself into. If the Teacher found him now, he was done for, and he knew it.

“I need to make a little side stop before we hit the station. Do you mind?” Joe asked, breaking the silence in the cab of the truck.

Nate looked over at the sheriff, shaking his head no. The longer it took to get to the sheriff’s office, the better off for him. He was still trying to figure out how to get away before the sheriff ran his prints.

He knew, without a doubt, the second the sheriff ran his prints, any hope he had of escape would be over. The Teacher had eyes and ears in nearly every law enforcement agency in the country. Once he caught wind of Nate’s trail, there was little hope of escape.

He watched with curiosity as they pulled into the driveway of a large white farmhouse. It looked old, but in good condition. Nate had always thought that these old farmhouses were beautiful, especially when they were older.

Joe jumped from the cab of the truck and walked around to Nate’s side of the truck. He opened the door and stared at Nate, one eyebrow raised in query. “You coming?”

Nate shrugged his shoulders. He climbed out of the truck then followed Joe into the house. He was a little surprised when Joe just opened the door and walked in, until he called out in his deep, raspy voice.

* * * *

“Mom? It’s Joe. Where are you?”

“In the kitchen, honey,” said a soft, birdlike voice from the back of the house.

Joe gestured to the living room. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable? I’ll be just a moment.”

He watched Nate nod his head and walk into the living room to look around. He seemed fascinated by the large bookshelves all along
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one wall. Nate immediately walked over and began looking through the titles.

Joe watched him for a moment, surprised at how gently Nate handled the books he pulled out to look at, before shaking his head and walking down the hall to the kitchen. He spotted his mom instantly, standing at the counter drying herbs.

“Hi, Mom.” He walked over and gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Maryann Nash turned her head to smile at her son. “Hi, honey, what are you doing here during the day? Shouldn’t you be out catching criminals or handing out parking tickets?”

“Actually, that’s kind of why I’m here. You heard about the shooting down at Old Man Garner’s market?”

“Oh yeah, any news yet on how he’s doing?”

Joe shook his head. “No, not yet. He’s still in surgery. But Doc says it looks pretty good.”

Maryann cocked her head to one side. “Then what’s the problem, honey? Why are you here?”

“I…um…well…see…” Joe hedged, not quite sure why he was there exactly.

“Joseph Cheyne Nash! I do believe you’re blushing. I haven’t seen you blush since I caught you and your brother, Jim, looking at dirty magazines when you were sixteen years old.”

Joe felt himself flush even more as he remembered that embarrassing moment in his life. She would have to bring that up. He rubbed his hands together nervously. “Well…I…”

“Joe? What is it, son?” Maryann asked as she grabbed Joe’s hands.

“I want you to meet someone, Mom. He was at the scene when I found Old Man Garner, gave him CPR and probably saved his life.”

“That’s good, isn’t it? Or do you think he did it?”

Joe shook his head. “No, I don’t think he did it, but there’s definitely something going on with this guy. There’s something about
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him. I just can’t quite put my finger on it. He…well, he’s just so…and…”