They hadn’t seen one another since Julian ran him out of town six years prior. Patrick played the victim right until the very end, swearing blind that he had no idea what the doctors were talking about.
Despite the blood thumping in his head, Oliver opened the laptop and continued with the video—if not for himself, then for Helena and all the other children who had been made victims. Sheepishly, he pressed play and watched as the tall, auburn-haired alpha—now in his mid thirties—stepped into view. He still wore the same linen shirt and blue slacks combination that Oliver remembered. Even when he’d been a trainee social worker, he’d worn something similar. He was just as tall as Lucas, but leaner and nowhere near as broad.
“You doing okay, H?” He said, giving the girl an easy smile. The same one that had sucked Oliver in all those years ago. He wanted to say that he felt nothing as he stared at Patrick on the screen. Wanted to say that he was over everything that had happened. But something about the long-buried familiarity of his movements, his mannerisms, his speech brought back a flood of emotions that chased away his earlier contentment.Tension roiled in his gut, and he knew it was something he was going to have to face.
What annoyed Oliver the most was that Patrick wasgood. Really fuckinggoodat being a social worker. Throughout all the interviews, he guided Helena and the others seamlessly through Nancy’s questions, offering just the right amount of support when they needed it. A far cry from Shirley fucking Spencer. He was good at his job, and it was like watching a double act as he and Nancy played off one another.
“How’s it going?” Lucas entered the kitchen, making Oliver jump.
“F-Fine,” he blurted out, as the alpha stood behind him.
Lucas’ chest rumbled as he rubbed the back of Oliver’s neck. “Is he the new social worker?” He pointed at the screen.
“Yeah.”
“He seems alright. Better than Shirley, at any rate.”
“That’s not exactly difficult.”
“I suppose not. Tea?”
“Yes please,” Oliver replied, trying his best to look normal as he smiled up at the alpha.
It didn’t work, because Lucas narrowed his eyes and pressed the back of his hand to Oliver’s forehead. “Everything okay?” He asked, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes.
“Uh-huh,” Oliver replied, turning his attention back to the screen. “Could I have a coffee, actually? Please.” The alpha’s expression softened as he nodded. As though fatigue might explain Oliver’s change in mood.
Suddenly, his work phone rang, an unfamiliar number popping up on the screen. “You don’t have to answer it,” Lucas said, pulling out two cups.
“It might be important,” Oliver replied, staring at the screen.
“It might. But it might not. Want me to answer it?”
“N-No, thanks. I can get it.”
And that, ladies and gentlemen, had been one of the worst mistakes he could have made.
“DC Reed?” A familiar Northern Irish accent said, making Oliver’s throat go dry.
“Yes,” he replied, trying not to look at Lucas.
“Ollie, is that you?”
“It is.”
“Hey Ollie. It’s Paddy.”
FIFTEEN
UNDERHANDED ENCOUNTERS
“Ollie?” Patrick’s tone sounded mildly amused. Hearing his name snapped Oliver back to the present, because he’d barely noticed that he’d begun to disassociate from the call. He wanted to say ‘fuck off you disgusting twat,’ but something about hearing the alpha’s voice again made him want to crawl into a dark hole and never come out. Thankfully, he thought better of both options as he caught Lucas’ eye. The alpha gazed down at him with a raised brow, waiting for the conversation to play out.
Oliver swallowed and cleared his throat. “Mr Coletta,” he said, his own tone overly bright and business-like. “What can I do for you?”
Lucas turned back towards the kettle, though kept his head tilted towards the conversation. Quite suddenly, and unexpectedly, Oliver felt like the weight of a thousand hippos were pressing down onto his shoulders, as he stared up at the alpha who had asked to be his future, whilst listening to the nightmare of his past. It was a damned good job he was sitting down, otherwise he might have toppled over from the pounding in his skull.
“So itisyou,” Patrick said, with a hint of disbelief. “When I saw your name on Alfie’s case notes, I thought it was too good to be true. How’re you?”
