He headed out of town, riding down the scenic country road, until he pulled into his driveway. Maybe he could go pick Baker up and bring him here. Reno had yet to show his mate where he lived or his home.
Walking into the front entrance, Reno tossed his keys and leather aside, striding toward the kitchen for something to eat. He thought of the hot dogs and fries Baker had fed him the night he had gone over to his mate’s apartment.
That thought only drove home the fact that his mate wasn’t with him. Slamming the fridge door, Reno grunted. To hell with it. He was going over to Baker’s and bringing his mate here. The man was just going to have to get over the anger of his father embarrassing him. Worse shit had happened to Reno in life. A father’s disapproval wasn’t something to drive a wedge between them.
Besides, he was aching for his mate. He wanted to feel Baker in his arms.
With that decision in mind, Reno turned to leave when he spotted Johnson standing in the kitchen doorway. How in the hell had he managed to get in without Reno knowing? His coyote was getting lazy.
“What are you doing in my house?” Reno barked the question angrily.
“You know,” Johnson began as he leaned his shoulder into the doorframe, “I never liked you from the first moment I laid eyes on you. You’re nothing but an arrogant punk.”
Reno had been called worse. Most mistook his confidence as arrogance. They thought him a standoffish snob when in reality he was just a private person. Bear had thought that about Reno when he first transferred into the firehouse, but after a few gruff encounters, they had felt each other out and were fine.
He wasn’t going to have a few gruff encounters with Johnson and there would be no feeling each other out. The man had an objective. Reno just wasn’t sure what that objective was, though.
Johnson narrowed his brown eyes at Reno, the skin crinkling at the sides of his pale face. The human was thin, tall, and Reno knew he could take him down if the man weren’t holding a weapon.
“Sticks and stones,” Reno replied. “Now get the fuck out before I throw you out.”
“I’m a cop,” Johnson said arrogantly as he ran his hand over his short, black, cropped hair. “Do you really think you can just toss me out?”
Reno watched Johnson’s hand rest against the butt of his gun. He knew he was going to have to be careful how he handled this situation.
His coyote was dying to take a bite out of Johnson, but Reno pulled his beast in. When he took a step forward, Johnson pulled his gun so fast that Reno was impressed. But he wasn’t impressed with the barrel aimed at his face.
“Not one more step,” Johnson warned. “I will blow your damn head off.”
“You’re in my house,” Reno pointed out. “How will you justify the kill?” He was stalling, trying to figure out a way to get the gun out of Johnson’s hand without being shot. The cop looked like he was itching for a reason.
“Let me worry about that.” Johnson waved the gun toward the back door. “Just get moving.”
Reno was trying to grapple with the ramifications of walking out of the door with Johnson. He knew the cop had an objective, but taking him outside, Reno hadn’t a clue why they were leaving the house.
He felt the displaced air behind him and knew Johnson was trying to strike him. Pivoting quickly, he saw the cop was trying to slam the butt of his gun down on Reno’s head. Instinct took over and Reno hit Johnson so hard in the face that he feared he had killed the guy. The cop slumped to the ground.
He stood there stunned, looking down at what he had just done. I hit a cop. Oh hell, I assaulted a police officer!
Reno took a shaky step back. No one knew the cop had been harassing him and Baker. It was going to be Johnson’s word against his. They were going to lock him up for this one. All Johnson had to say was he had come by to talk to Reno, making up some sort of excuse for the visit.
It was a cop’s word against a fireman’s. Reno already knew which one of them would win that debate. It was a no-brainer. Unsure of what to do, Reno ran into the house, grabbed his keys and helmet, then locked the back door. He scooted around Johnson and then took off for his motorcycle.
He had to get to Baker. If he took off and left his mate behind, he was leaving the human vulnerable. Reno wasn’t sure how receptive Baker was going to be once he told him what had taken place at his house, but he had to try.
Racing down the country road, Reno pushed his motorcycle to the limit. Baker lived next door to the police station. If Johnson woke and called the assault in, they would be at Baker’s in seconds.
Parking his hog behind the building to keep it out of sight, Reno hurried into the foyer and climbed the steps. He wasn’t sure how long Johnson would be laid out on his back lawn and knew his time was precious.
As Reno neared Baker’s door he knew he hadn’t much time. He knocked, waited, and then knocked again. When Baker didn’t answer, Reno swept the hallway with his eyes before trying the handle.
It was unlocked.
With quick steps Reno was inside the apartment, quietly closing the door behind him. He searched the one-bedroom and found it empty. Where was Baker? His mate could be doing something as innocent as shopping, taking in a movie, or out to dinner. Just because Reno’s life was falling apart didn’t mean Baker was in peril. At least
