The Runaway Cat (Book 2 Cloverleah Pack Series) Page 4

  Diablo kept telling himself that as he felt Georgio wind up his meeting and then stand up and brush past, tapping Diablo on the shoulder as he went. Dutifully Diablo stood, waited for the alcohol to settle in his gut and then he followed Georgio to his office. Just inside the room, Diablo sank to his knees with his head bowed awaiting orders, just like he had been taught. He could hear Georgio wandering around the room checking his messages, taking off his jacket and putting it over the office chair that Diablo knew was behind the desk in the center of the room.

  God Diablo hated the fact that this man got off of making him wait. Now he had psyched himself into doing this he just wanted it over and done with. He heard the clink of glass on glass and guessed that Georgio was pouring himself another drink. Fortunately Georgio’s ability to get off was not overly dimmed by alcohol so Diablo wasn’t too worried about any of the action taking too long. Then he heard the office chair creak as Georgio sat down. Patience, Diablo kept telling himself, patience.

  Finally he heard Georgio’s voice.

  “Stand up and come over here.”

  Standing in one fluid motion, Diablo flexed his body as he strolled over slowly to stand by Georgio’s desk, his head still bowed low. He knew how Georgio loved to watch him move.

  “Take your shirt off.” Taking a peek at Georgio as Diablo slowly pulled his shirt off over his head Diablo could see that Georgio already had his pants undone and was rubbing his grubby little cock. Good, the idiot was doing his work for him. He ran his hands down his bare torso as Georgio watched still keeping his head bowed.

  “Oh yeah, boy you look so good.” Diablo could hear Georgio panting and from the creaking in the chair it was clear the man’s fingers were working overtime on himself.

  “Kneel between my knees boy.” Stepping around the desk Diablo sank to his knees in front of Georgio his gaze now filled with the sight of the man wanking himself off. Georgio sat up straighter, his hand still working frantically his cock now perfectly pointed straight at Diablo’s face. Diablo could feel the nausea rising again and he struggled to control it. But Georgio’s smell was really getting to him in a bad way and combined with the alcohol he had drunk just an hour before Diablo was fighting a losing battle.

  With a sharp cry, Georgio came suddenly, his spunk landing in thick drops all over Diablo’s face. Diablo shuddered and as the nausea overcame him he turned his head and vomited straight into Georgio’s wastepaper basket.

  “Why you little shit.” Georgio was on his feet in an instant, his pants thankfully pulled up, and he kicked Diablo across the ribs. As Diablo went down to the ground Georgio stomped on his head and Diablo moaned. In that instant he lost control of the shutters in his mind and he knew that Griff had seen him in pain as he felt the roar of Griff’s panic in his mind.

  Lying on the floor Diablo struggled to think of the best possible damage control. First Griff, right. I’m okay, I’m okay…Stay open for me…Will contact…one hour.

  Then with a force of will he didn’t know he had, he resolutely shut his mind down and turned groveling on the floor to the man stood over him. Crawling over he kissed the man’s shoes softly pleading, “I am so sorry Georgio. I told you I was sick. I am so desperately sorry, please forgive me.” He stayed down by the man’s shoes, kissing them and licking them as he knew Georgio liked even though his head and ribs pounded with pain. Kissing the shoes was easier to endure than giving head.

  Georgio allowed him to beg and plead for forgiveness for a full five minutes before he bent down and touched Diablo’s shoulder.

  “Get up and go and wash your face.”

  Remembering to thank the man, Diablo got up slowly and walked to the small bathroom on the side of the room. He washed his face repeatedly and rinsed out his mouth before going back into the office, standing by the desk with his head lowered.

  “Look at me, Diablo.”

  Raising his eyes Diablo was careful to maintain a look of complete contriteness on his face. Georgio seemed pleased with what he saw because he gave a small smile.

  “You are lucky you are so beautiful my boy or you would be dead by now. You understand that I have that power don’t you Diablo?” Diablo nodded looking suitably scared.

  “Are you going to be fit for my party on Saturday?”

  Speaking softly Diablo said, “Of course, Georgio, I know how important it is to you.”

  Nodding, Georgio picked up the phone and called for his car to be waiting by the door at the back stairs of the club. He turned back to Diablo.

  “I want to see you looking good on Saturday boy. Don’t worry about the bruising on your face, it doesn’t do my competitors any harm to think I have been beating you, now does it.”

  “No Georgio, I understand I deserved it.”

  “Right then. The car will be at your place seven sharp on Saturday. Wear something tight. I want people to see your lovely shape. Go on, go.”

  “Thank you Georgio.” Diablo nodded and headed out of the room. As he got to the door he heard Georgio say, “And don’t think I have forgotten about that virgin ass of yours my pretty. Come Saturday I could be well in the mood to take it for my own.” Diablo nodded and left the room. Clutching his ribs he moved slowly down the stairs to the car below. He couldn’t get home fast enough.

  As the car pulled up outside of his apartment, Ben, the driver, turned to look at him.

  “Hey are you okay, Diablo?”

  Diablo gave him a small smile. Ben never seemed to judge him for his position as Georgio’s ‘boy’ and for that Diablo was always grateful.

  “Yeah Ben, you know how it goes. Good days and bad.”

  Ben nodded. “Whatever you say Diablo. But hey, watch your back for the next week or so, okay? There is some shit going down and it sounds like you might be a part of it.”

  When Diablo looked at him Ben shrugged.

  “Can’t say anything more, man. I wish I could but I don’t know nothing definite. But just watch out for yourself.”

  Giving him a small smile, Diablo nodded and shuffled across the seat to get out of the car. As soon as he had slammed the door the big car slid out into the traffic heading back to the club. Diablo watched it until it was completely out of sight, before trudging up the stairs to his apartment. He needed to get into a hot shower and he needed to open his mind to his mate.

  Chapter Five

  Griff had been getting ready for bed when he was assaulted by an image of Diablo in pain, writhing on the floor. He heard Diablo try and reassure him he was okay and that he would contact him again shortly before Diablo locked Griff out of his head again. Now Griff was reduced to pacing the floor, getting more and more angry with every passing minute. He felt totally frustrated that he couldn’t do anything to help his mate and the fear that Diablo might be dying somewhere did nothing to improve his mood.

  Griff knew he had the resources to find out more about where his mate was and the nature of his assignment. He wasn’t known as “The Mechanic” for nothing. Griff had spent more than ten years going in on government undercover cases where necessary to help out agents in trouble. Although he only worked a couple of cases per year and only a couple of days at a time he never went in unless specifically requested by the powers that be. Over the years he had a range of different covers of his own in the criminal underbelly of most states that had proven useful for getting an agent out.

  There was only one man who knew who he was and who authorized any jobs he did. Tony Gearson, the Director of the FBI. Most people in the agency didn’t even know Griff existed and both Tony and Griff had worked hard over the years to ensure the situation stayed like that. Tony was also the only human man who knew Griff was a shifter. Kane knew about Griff’s little sideline of course, but not specifically what he did. He just knew that sometimes Griff needed time off work and Griff would disappear for a few days. Griff had talked to Kane once about it after he had come back from a particularly difficult case. He knew he could trust Kane and he supposed by extension no
w, Shawn as well, but even Scott, Troy and Dean, the other members of their little pack didn’t know about Griff’s ‘other’ job. Griff would have told Diablo about his position purely because mates don’t keep secrets from each other, but they hadn’t had any time to talk up until now.

  Griff thought about phoning Tony. But he hadn’t been called in to help Diablo. All agents had some form of back up team especially on long term cases like Diablo’s. Griff cursed to himself as he realized he should have gotten a lot more information from his mate before agreeing to him going back undercover for two weeks. But any unauthorized involvement could harm Diablo rather than help him especially if he did have a back up team. Griff cursed again. He should have at least made sure the man did have adequate back up. He knew from experience the difference between a case going well and a cover being blown can be a matter of minutes and could easily end with the agent dead.

  Damn, damn, damn. Why did he have to meet Diablo when he was drunk? If he had been sober he would have realized the man was his mate within minutes of meeting him. He could have and would have spent a lot more time talking to the man instead of just rolling around in bed. Griff grimaced to himself. Okay well that wasn’t strictly true. But he would have claimed the little cat for himself and then made sure that the man didn’t go back on his assignment by himself. As it was he was stuck in Cloverleah pacing the floor and pulling his hair out. Griff kept pounding the floor with his feet as every minute passed like an hour.

  ~~~

  Diablo let himself into his apartment. He didn’t worry about checking security because the place was paid for by Georgio so there was nothing there that would indicate Diablo’s FBI status. After making sure his door was double locked, he leaned against the door and finally started to assess his injuries. Pulling his shirt off, he carefully prodded his ribs. He winced as his fingers felt a particularly sore spot and running his fingers over the area he could tell he had one broken rib. Thank goodness he was a shifter, it should heal by itself within a day or so.

  He tenderly felt the side of his face. Nothing broken although his head was pounding and his face felt puffy. Diablo was probably going to have a wicked black eye and his chin felt bruised as well. He debated shifting into his cat form for a moment as that would speed the healing process but then remembering Georgio’s comment about his bruises he decided against it. A hot shower - that would definitely help. And he had better get in touch with Griff as well. Knowing a wolf’s possessive nature Griff would be climbing the walls by now.

  Reaching around his neck, Diablo partially shifted one of his hands so that his claws extended. Using the sharp tip of one of them he lightly pressed into the lock mechanism of his collar and the wretched thing sprung open. Diablo sheathed his claws and dropped the collar to the ground. Although his head was still pounding, he always felt so much better when that bloody thing was off from around his neck. Kicking off his boots, Diablo unzipped his pants and slid them down his legs, kicking them off his feet as well. Leaving the clothes on the floor he padded slowly over to his small bathroom and peered in the mirror. He squinted at his reflection. Yep, definite huge bruises across his cheek bone, a black eye and another huge bruise around his chin. There were faint imprints of the tread of Georgio’s boot on his face. Bastard had definitely stomped hard.

  Still Diablo reasoned he had been hurt worse in this and other cases. At least he was standing, even if his stance was a little unsteady. The booze he had drunk was not helping with his balance. Hopefully a shower would help clear his head. That and a chat with his mate. Sighing, Diablo turned to his shower and setting the water temperature as hot as it would go, he climbed inside the shower booth.

  After five minutes under the pounding water, Diablo started to relax although his mind was feeling a bit floaty. His ribs and head still hurt and Diablo knew he had to lie down soon or he would fall down. But first he had to let Griff know that he was all right. He cautiously let down the guards in his mind, preparing for an onslaught of emotions. Yep, his mate could project really well and his emotions were running high.

  Diablo tried to focus on the water running down his back as he sifted through Griff’s emotions. He really didn’t want his mate angry at him for the second time. Diablo could sense the anger although he wasn’t sure it was actually directed at him. There was also a lot of pain and worry. Those were emotions he could deal with.

  Griff hon, can you stop with the whole ranting thing for a minute? I’ve really got a headache.

  Diablo could actually feel Griff’s mind quiet at the connection and then Griff immediately calmed down.

  Diablo, are you okay? Soft concern, thank goodness. Diablo felt his headache start to ease.

  Yes Griff I am fine. Bruised head and a broken rib. Not a bad night out for a gay shifter. Diablo felt this uncontrollable urge to giggle and he stifled it as best he could. Somehow it seemed inappropriate especially when Griff was so concerned.

  Oh fuck hon, I have been so worried about you. What happened?

  Diablo tried not to think about the images because he knew that Griff would pick up on them. But he couldn’t help it and as Griff’s mind was filled with the sight of another man’s cock being wanked all over his face he could feel Griff growling through the connection. This time Diablo couldn’t help but giggle as the whole situation felt so ridiculous. Griff growled louder as he felt Diablo’s silent mirth.

  This is not a laughing matter, cat.

  Oh Griff, hon, I am so sorry. Diablo couldn’t stop now. I am not laughing about that…that was horrible, really horrible…but at least I didn’t have to touch him thank God…stupid bastard took care of himself…but oh the smell and the spunk and the bloody drinks I had…just too much…threw up in the wastebasket by the bloody mark’s feet. That’s why I got stomped on.

  Diablo could barely stand up now he was giggling so hard and he wondered idly if he was suffering from some kind of shock. Griff must have thought so too because his tone became quiet and soothing as it wafted around Diablo’s head.

  Come on hon. Calm down. You are out of there now. Are you safe?

  Yes, yes for now.

  Diablo could feel himself getting calmer at the sound of his mate’s voice and he started to shiver. Damn water was getting cold. He shut off the taps and reached for a huge robe he kept on the back of the bathroom door. Snuggling himself into it, he carefully padded over to the bed and curled up against the pillows. Griff must have sensed him moving around because he was quiet until he felt Diablo settle on the bed.

  Feeling any better?

  Yes, now I am just cold…ouch and a bit sore but that’s okay. Am curled up on the bed. Stay with me for a bit would you Griff?

  Sure hon, whatever you need.

  Diablo sensed quiet for a moment and then his mind was filled with the picture of the two of them standing somewhere with trees and bush, looking out over some really pretty view. What he focused on was Griff’s big arms wrapped around him from behind, his back on Griff’s chest much like it was when they fell asleep together the week before.

  Diablo hummed quietly as the peace he felt from that image ran right through his body.

  Thank’s Griff.

  Yeah well, I could have sent you an image with a lot less clothes, but that didn’t seem right especially with you so far away and it still another week before you get back.

  Griff was teasing but Diablo knew his mate was still really worried about him. He thought about what he could do to make things easier.

  Look Griff. The mark’s got this party on Saturday, day after tomorrow at his club. It’s a big deal and I have to go or he will freak out and could do a runner. That’s the only reason why I am back here. My handler reckoned if I left before the warrants are served then the mark could get spooked and run. I’ll do the party thing okay and then I will head back…I really want this to be over and I want to be with you.

  Diablo’s voice softened as he said the last part. The words and the sentiment behind them were so
true it hurt him and Griff must have sensed that. The hug in his head got tighter and Diablo moaned at the sensation.

  God, I wish you were here.

  Actually I would rather you were here home with me ‘cos then I would know you were safe when I was holding you. Diablo grinned to himself at Griff’s words. Yes that would be so much nicer.

  Just a couple more days, hon. I’ll do this bloody party, probably knock the mark out afterwards and get the hell out of town. Hopefully it will take anyone a couple of days to notice and the warrants will be executed.

  What do you mean a few days to notice? Where’s your back up team?

  Diablo snorted and he knew Griff could sense it.

  Gay agents on undercover don’t get back up Griff. Not in my office. Handler is a real homophobe…he’s had it in for me for years…figure that’s why I keep getting all of these shit assignments…he’s just pissed because I keep getting the job done anyway and he can’t fire me…Right now I just wish he would.

  You are in there on your own? Griff’s anger was apparent over the connection.

  Oops okay, well maybe Diablo shouldn’t have shared that little nugget of information because that wouldn’t help Griff’s stress levels. He scurried to find something soothing to say.

  Hey Griff don’t worry. I have been an agent for ten years…undercover for seven…I don’t need backup. I am not some rookie you know.

  Diablo could sense that Griff was trying to pull himself together and then his deep soft voice came back over Diablo’s mind.

  I never thought for a second you couldn’t handle yourself…or that you weren’t a good agent hon. But its protocol for goodness sake…every undercover agent has to have someone watching his back…and from the sounds of it your handler isn’t doing it.

  Wondering how Griff might know anything about how the FBI works Diablo tried to focus on the hidden compliment instead. For some reason Griff’s approval was really important to him.

  I know how to do my job Griff, even when it stinks so much I throw up…I grovel and then get the hell out of the situation.