InsaneJournal

Current mood:

awake

I came home this afternoon to find a surprise on my doorstep. An unpleasant surprise. In fact, it couldn't have been more unpleasant if it had been presented in a burning paper bag.

There was a battered truck sitting at the curb in front of my house, and Ben sitting huddled on the front step. I could see the bruise on his face from the driveway. Also sitting, cool as you please, on my wrought-iron bench on my porch was a complete stranger, smoking a fat cigar with beefy arms stretched out along the back of the bench and beer gut extending into his lap. The flannel-shirted red-neck fucker flicked the butt of the cigar into the hosta bed and stood up even as I was pulling into my driveway. I turned off the ignition, rummaged around beside the driver's seat, opened the door, and got out.

"Come here," I said to Ben.

He made to move toward me, and the piece of shit that was fouling my porch said, "Sit yer butt down, faggot, I didn't say you could go nowhere."

Oh, hell no. "I said come here," I said curtly, not taking my eyes off the stranger. Ben hesitated a moment, then broke and ran. He was at my side in an instant. "Get on the other side of my car," I told him. "Don't come back over here unless I tell you to."

"Julian, he's -"

"Do as you're fucking told!"

Once he was safely out of my way, I was free to turn my full attention on the scum, who promptly hacked up and spit out a blob of something brown. "So yer the faggot little Benji's decided to play with," he commented. If I'd had hackles, they would have risen, and I could feel a growl beginning deep in my chest.

"Get off my porch, get in your vehicle, and get out of my territory," I told him.

He reached up and dislodged the grimy baseball cap, scratched his scalp. "Like Benji tried to warn you, pup, I'm his alpha. And since Benji's the one that made you, that makes me yer alpha, too. Don't be gettin' uppity with me." He eyed my car, my suit, craned his neck to look around my landscaped front lawn and what he could see of my house. "Hunh," he grunted. "Couldn't figger out why Benji didn't try ta land hisself a white man. Gotta say, if he had ta pick out a nigger, he coulda done worse. You one of them educated boys, are ya?"

I narrowed my eyes, letting the growl build. "I'm not fooling with you. Get off my property. Now."

He heard the growl, because his eyes snapped to me and his ugly, loose mouth twisted in a snarl. Our eyes locked. "You challengin' me, pup? You ain't even seen yer first moon. You couldn't fight off one scrawny dog, you think you can take me on?"

"Yes, I do," I said evenly.

Stiff-legged, his body language telegraphing angry threat, he came down off the porch and made to come closer to me. I felt a curious sense of calm and purpose as I lifted the hand holding my pistol and pointed it unwaveringly at him. He looked at it incredulously, but he stopped.

"It doesn't have silver bullets," I said coolly, "so it might not stop you for long. I bet if I put a bullet through your forehead, though, or maybe through your balls, it'll stop you for long enough."

He barked out a laugh. "Do you even have any idea how many laws yer breakin', pup?" he mocked.

"For your information, Kansas has a personal protection act. I'm licensed to carry concealed. I can shoot your ass with impunity. I'm actually not breaking any laws." I pretended to consider. "And the word impunity means I'll get away with it," I added.

His face was turning a curious shade of brick-red. It's odd; that's the sort of phrase you read in a book, often, as though it's a stock phrase for authors, yet I've never actually seen someone turn that color. And here he was, very nearly a stereotype. "I ain't talking about the laws of the cattle, boy. They'll just lock you up," he sneered. "I'm talking about our kind. The kind that punishes law-breaking by tearing you to pieces and eating your liver."

I thought quickly. "Like you said, I haven't even seen my first moon. I am not a wolf yet."

My guess must have been lucky, because that seemed to mean something to him. His eyes shifted from my face to the gun, and then rolled wildly around, looking for an out. Watching him try to outthink me was interesting - he didn't seem to be very good at it. Finally, he snarled again. "Boy, git yer ass out here and get in the truck!" he shouted.

"He's not going anywhere with you," I said, knowing I was pushing my luck but still riding that sense of calmness. Keeping Ben around would probably prove to be a stupid decision on my part, but the bruise on his face didn't give me much choice. I had something to make up for.

"You think you can take him from me? From his pack?"

"Yes, I do, actually. That's exactly what I'm thinking."

He snorted, his ugly mouth twisting upward into a nasty grin. "We'll see about that," he said menacingly, even as he stomped toward the curb where his vehicle was parked. "You hear that, you little chink traitor?" he called out, almost gaily. "Yer pup says you don't belong to the pack anymore! You keep that in mind, ya hear me?"

I lowered my gun-hand, but kept it ready by my side until the scum had entered his raggedy pickup and had roared off down the street. Finally, I let my guard down. "You can come out now," I said. Now that the purpose was gone, that sense of calm left me, leaving me feeling uncertain and excited and jittery all at the same time.

Ben came into view, his arms hugging his own waist defensively, shoulders hunched. "It was brave," he said in a low tone. "Stupid, but brave. I knew you would be."

I cocked an eyebrow at him. "You knew I'd be stupid?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "I knew you'd be strong enough to face him down." The two of us considered one another for a moment, then he added, "Would you really have shot him?"

"Wouldn't have done much good if I had. The gun's not loaded."