Wesley

Wesley

ISBN # 978-1-78184-226-3

©Copyright Bailey Bradford 2017

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright September 2017

Edited by Claire Siemaszkiewicz and Nicki Richards

Pride Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2017 by Pride Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, UK

Pride Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

Leopard’s Spots

WESLEY

Bailey Bradford

Book eight in the Leopard’s Spots series

Letting go of the past is the hardest thing these two men have to learn to do.

Wes Ward made a mistake—a few of them, to be exact. He felt abandoned, forgotten by his older brother, Sully, once Sully found his mate. Wes let anger and loneliness influence him, and he tried some things he shouldn’t have. Getting busted by his mom was probably the one thing that saved him. Getting sent to stay with the brother he thinks forgot about him might be an unmitigated disaster.

Or it might be Wes’ salvation. In San Antonio, he is forced to confront the things he has done, and his childish reasoning for it. It isn’t easy, but after a spectacular blow-out with Sully and his mate Bobby, Wes finally begins to try to get past his issues. When he meets a skittish, sexy man at the homeless youth shelter where they both volunteer, Wes thinks he’s found more than he ever thought he’d have.

Armando has been hurt too many times to count, but the last time almost cost him his life. He’s carried unwarranted anger around for over two years, refusing to make peace with Sully or Bobby, so to find himself attracted to Sully’s little brother Wes is a shock.

Dedication

To letting go of the past—and to the past letting go of us.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Yoda: Star Wars 20th Century Fox

Baby Come Home: Scissor Sisters

The Majestic Theatre: Majestic Theatre San Antonio

Shell: Shell Oil Company

Google: Google, Inc.

Skype: Skype and/or Microsoft

Cap’n Crunch: The Quaker Oats Company

McDonald’s: McDonald’s

Chapter One

Wes Ward glared at his older brother Sully. This is stupid. I screwed up one time—

You got busted by Mom one time. That doesn’t mean it was the only time you did it, just that it was the only time you got caught, Sully said calmly. Wes wanted to punch him or poke him, do something to break through that utter freaking calm that seemed impenetrable. Sully talked on, either unaware, or, more likely, uncaring that Wes was steaming mad. You can pout and throw a fit, but Mom and Dad sent you down here to me and Bobby because they aren’t stupid either, Wes. They know that you’ve probably been using more than just the one time. Sully arched a brow in an imperious look that made Wes growl.

Calm down, kitty boy. Otherwise I might have to put you over my knee.

Wes jerked his head around, surprised to find Sully’s mate, Bobby, not more than a yard behind him. He hadn’t even heard the wolf shifter approach, which was screwed up. Wes, like his brother, was a snow leopard shifter. They had enhanced senses just like the damned wolf shifters did. Wes had been too busy listening to his own blood boil to hear Bobby coming up behind him.

I’m not teasin’ ya, Wes, Bobby uttered in a soft, low voice that was all the more intimidating for its laid-back tone. I won’t have you talkin’ to my mate like that.

He’s my brother, Wes said petulantly. He cringed inwardly at how childish he sounded, but his pride wouldn’t let him back down. You need to stay out of this.

Wes hadn’t ever seen Bobby anything other than what could only be termed mellow, or all googly-eyed and pawing at Sully, which was to be expected as they were mates. But now he was seeing a darker, scarier side to the man who would someday lead the San Antonio wolf pack.

Bobby’s entire countenance hardened. There was no other way for Wes to describe it or process it. The relaxed slump disappeared from Bobby’s stance and his eyes, normally glinting with mischief, went sharp with the promise of that very spanking he’d just mentioned.

And muscles? Wes hadn’t really paid much attention to Bobby other than to admit to himself that, yeah, the guy was hot. How he’d missed the bulge of defined muscles was beyond him.

Then he felt it, the wave of power rolling off Bobby. It was like an electrical current in the air, surrounding Wes. Every hair on his body stood up, even those on his nape. If he hadn’t been wearing a ball cap, he’d have bet the hair under it would have been standing on end. Inside, his snow leopard yowled unhappily. Wes wasn’t a dominant person, and neither was his leopard. They weren’t made to stand up against the power of an alpha like Bobby.

Yet Wes tried, forcing his gaze to remain locked with Bobby’s. Everything else around them faded, the comfortable furnishings, the knick-knacks that made the place a home Wes was envious over. He’d never admit it, but he wanted a home with a mate who loved him. Being jealous just made him feel petty, and Wes didn’t like himself for it. If he weren’t feeling so…challenged and ganged up on, he’d probably have admitted that his coping skills sucked. However, he’d effectively dug himself into a corner surrounded by his own belligerence. He was, in his own mind, stuck.

Bobby, maybe you should let us work this out.

Wes didn’t look away from Bobby when Sully spoke. He felt like prey, and glancing away would mean he’d be taken down like a rabbit under the weight of a leopard.

Bobby snarled, his top lip curling up on one side, baring a hint of teeth. I don’t take shit in my own house, Sully. Not from anyone, and especially not from your punk-ass little brother.

He’s not always a punk-ass, Sully muttered. We used to be friends. What happened to us, Wes?

What happened to us? What happened to us! Wes took the out Sully had given him. He spun his head back around so quick he was dizzy as he looked at his brother. What happened? You left! You went away and forgot about me, Sully. That’s what happened!

Bobby growled and Wes’ kneecaps tried to turn to gelatin. His legs quivered but he refused to glance behind him. He knew what he’d said wasn’t fair, and wasn’t accurate—exactly—but it was how he felt, and Sully had asked, after all.

Sully’s confusion morphed into hurt, then something too damned close to pity for Wes’ sake. He averted his gaze to glare at a spot over Sully’s shoulder. The kitchen walls were painted a soft peach color. Wes wondered who had picked it out.

I never forgot about you, Wes. Jesus.

From his peripheral vision, Wes could see Sully raking his fingers through his hair. That god-awful feeling of power faded from the air, and Wes released a little of the tension that had been knotted in his chest.

I had to go to college, Sully began. Wes nodded just enough to show he got that, but he still didn’t look at Sully. Shit. Shit, Wes, I’m sorry. Okay? I… I know I didn’t stay in touch like I could have.

Wes hitched a shoulder in a shrug. Sully sighed and before Wes could stop him, he pulled Wes into a tight hug that Wes didn’t return.

I’m sorry. I know you called and texted, but it seemed like it was always when I was in class or doing something where I couldn’t reply or answer, and by the time I could— Sully held him tighter, and Wes stiffened, his anger growing with Sully’s admission. It wasn’t that I forgot about you, Wes. I’m just an ass. I got so involved in my own life…

Let go of me, Wes gritted out, barely having the breath to do so. Sully went rigid but released him, except for a hand to his wrist. This is stupid anyway. I’m not a kid. I don’t need you or anyone else to give a damn about me. But his heart ached like a mother when he said so.

Sully frowned and held his wrist so tight it started to go numb. You don’t mean that. You’re angry, and I get that. I wish you’d have talked to me sooner—

Wes almost blew up with the force of his anger. He jerked his arm free. How the fuck was I supposed to do that? Huh? How many times did I email or call or text, like you said? You know you answered on average one in five times. One in five, Sul. Think about that.

Wes had, and he’d become angrier and angrier, even as his loneliness had increased. He’d never been exactly outgoing, and had preferred to stay in his room playing games when he didn’t have to work at the gas station. But he’d missed Sully, missed his teasing and practical jokes and his companionship when Sully would make him come out and be sociable.

Fuck this. Wes was done. This was all too much to handle. He turned to head for the door. His family couldn’t force him to stay here. If they thought shipping him to Sully—sending him to San Antonio from Colorado—against his will meant he was going to just be a good boy and keep his head down like he was ashamed, they were wrong.

Even though he was ashamed. And Sully was right. The night he was busted with drugs wasn’t the first night he’d bought them. The ironic thing was, if his parents or even his little sister Sheila had been paying any attention to him at all, they’d have noticed the change in his scent. Wes had. He’d had an acrid, almost too bitter aroma to him by the time he’d been caught by their mom. A month later and he almost smelled like himself again.

Eau de Slacker. Wes snorted at his silly joke. He veered around the couch table and was three feet from the door when he felt it again. That ominous wave of power prickled over his skin, stronger than before. Wes’ leopard mewled in fear and he shook all the way to his toes as his knees buckled. Goddamn Bobby.

You ain’t runnin’ away from here, or from what you’ve done.

What’ve I done? Wes rasped, fear ramping up his pulse so that his heart raced to the point that he saw spots dancing in front of him.

You don’t cut your brother like that and haul ass like a coward. You don’t dump all the blame on him like a toddler throwin’ a tantrum. You don’t act like a child when you’re claiming you’re a man.

With each word Bobby spoke, Wes slumped down further until by the time Bobby stopped, Wes was curled up in a fetal position on the floor.

Bobby—

Sully, chill. I ain’t gonna break him.

Wes wished he could see Sully’s face, see if he was angry at being told that or if he was okay with it. If he was on Wes’ side or on Bobby’s.

I know you won’t, but this is between me and Wes, Sully said, still calm as freakin’ Yoda. There was Wes’ answer, too. He’d been an idiot to think Sully would stand up for him.

Wes tuned out the conversation as he curled into a tighter ball. His gut ached and he craved the ease a handful of phennies or sleeping pills would give him. He hadn’t got around to trying meth or heroin, nothing like that. He was afraid he would have, though. Drugs had smothered so many of his emotions, the lonely feelings and the anger, but they’d also left him dirty and empty inside. That had never been what Wes had wanted in the first place, when he’d put the first few pills in his mouth.

No, Wes had discovered prescription barbiturates purely by accident, when a dealer had come into the gas station late one night. Wes had complained about having problems sleeping when he went from working nights to days, and the guy had offered him a solution. It was embarrassing how easily he’d let himself be convinced, and he was damned lucky he’d never been arrested for buying the drugs.

Shifters were immune to a lot of things, but Wes had discovered that if he took enough of some drugs, just like if he drank enough alcohol, he could get stoned, or high, whatever. What he hadn’t expected was to become addicted, not after four or five uses. He hadn’t had the horrific withdrawals his parents had worried about, but sometimes the need for the drug slammed into him so hard he ached from it.

He didn’t realize he was shaking almost to the point of it being a convulsion until Sully’s strident voice penetrated his misery. Wes had wanted to shatter that calm, and he had. Sully sounded terrified. Wes didn’t know what the problem was. He hadn’t used since he’d been busted. Despite his gnawing craving, he wouldn’t use again.

Because Wes knew something he hadn’t shared. He’d come too close to losing his soul to drugs. His leopard spirit wouldn’t have remained in him for much longer had he not been caught and forced to see the wisdom in quitting. It was that knowledge that would overwhelm him, sneak up from nowhere and shred him inside, much like it was doing now.

And Wes could bitch and throw accusations wherever he wanted to, but he knew the truth. There was only one person responsible for his stupidity, and that was him.

Jesus, Bobby, what’s happening? Sully yelled, groping all over Wes. He’s pale and covered in sweat and shaking—

Did he get a hold of something? Bobby asked.

Wes tried to snarl, but his teeth kept chattering. Sully did it for him. No, you ass, he didn’t. You were right there, watching him. He just dropped when you sprung your mighty alpha powers on him.

Some part of Wes’ brain registered that Sully sounded furious, but he figured that might be a hallucination. Those happened on occasion, although usually they occurred at night when he couldn’t sleep.

I don’t have super powers, Bobby drawled. I didn’t zap him with a laser beam or whatever.

Bobby, if you’re not going to help, go chase your tail, Sully snapped. And thanks for not letting him run off, he added with a bit less ire.

How ‘bout I go get Remus? ‘Cause I don’t think this is a reaction to my mighty alpha powers. Bobby didn’t sound worried at all. He sounded just as he always did, except for those moments when he’d been ready to rip Wes’ head off.

Wes shivered again and bit his tongue.

Sully’s face was suddenly right in his, almost nose to nose with Wes. Wes, Bobby’s going to call and have Remus get ready to be brought over. I don’t know if you’ve ever met him, but Remus is the shaman of the pack here. He’s brilliant but very simple about it. Sully stroked Wes’ hair, and it was only then that Wes realized Sully had to be lying on the floor too. For some reason, that made Wes’ eyes water with tears.

I am sorry, so sorry, Sully murmured, his voice cracking.

Wes had carried around his pain and anger, justified or not, for almost two years. He knew he shouldn’t have let it control him, but had been unable to stop it. You were the only friend I had, Sul, and you left me. Oh God, he really was pathetic. Wes sobbed then, ashamed of so many things, and sure they’d never be righted again.

How much time passed as he lay on the floor trying to keep himself from falling into a million pieces, Wes didn’t know. Sully had stopped talking, though, and was sniffling irregularly when suddenly someone else touched Wes’ shoulder.

The firm hand seemed to radiate out warmth and peace, two things Wes was in dire need of. His hearing clouded with a loud buzzing as the feelings of comfort increased.

Wes blinked and saw that Sully had got up at some point, but still that touch remained on his shoulder, soothing him inside. Eventually he rolled his head and found himself looking into a withered brown face, deeply lined with wrinkles, and the kindest almost-black eyes he’d ever seen.

You will be okay, boy.

Wes couldn’t even be offended by the boy part, not when the man looking at him had to be close to a hundred, if not in actual years, then in his soul at least. A kind smile spread on the man’s lips and Wes soon found himself returning it.

I am Remus, shaman of the San Antonio wolf shifter pack. Would you like to come stay with me for a few days? I can help you find peace.

Normally, Wes didn’t think of himself as the trusting or naïve kind—although some people would argue that last one with him. Or maybe they’d just call him stupid, and he’d have to agree.

But he knew he could trust Remus. He felt