The Red Zone Read online

  THE RED ZONE Book Eleven Sandrine Gasq-Dion

  ~~Dedication~~

  For Terry and Crain

  To my family

  My loyal readers from LRO and the newest ones!

  Jenjo, Kim and Jen.

  Frank, for his frankisms

  Theresa Webber for the third set of eyes

  © Copyright 2012 This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events or locales is coincidental. All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be

  used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission. WARNING: This book contains material that maybe offensive to some: Violence, graphic language, homosexual

  relations, and adult situations. CHAPTER ONE 4

  ~~CHAPTER TWO~~ 23 ~~CHAPTER THREE~~ 42 ~~CHAPTER FOUR~~ 68 ~~CHAPTER FIVE~~ 90 ~~CHAPTER SIX~~ 109 ~~EPILOGUE~~ 122

  Chapter One

  “Jesus, Wyatt!” Sebastian hit the ground with a loud grunt. The air left his lungs and he coughed, shoving Wyatt off of him. The next thing he knew, more of his teammates were on top of him.

  “Will you guys knock it off? This is serious!” Sebastian tried to get up and was pushed back down; his teammate Brock straddled his hips.

  “Well hiya, sexy,” Brock waggled his eyebrows.

  Sebastian grinned. Brock was one of the other gay guys on the football team and a male whore. Sebastian had dated him for a few weeks before figuring that out – and Brock made no excuses for his behavior. Sebastian pushed Brock off of him and sat up. Wyatt was looking at him with an eyebrow raised.

  “Okay, what?” Sebastian asked.

  “You guys still going out?” Wyatt watched as Brock walked away, shaking his tight ass.

  “Nope, thought I told you that much.” Sebastian stood up, stretching out his back. “Maybe I did tell you and you were just so involved in your own love life you forgot.”

  Wyatt frowned. “I’m sorry; I know I’ve been preoccupied with Preston. I am here for you, though.”

  Sebastian groaned, holding his head. “No, I’m sorry. I can’t begrudge you happiness, you deserve to be happy and Preston’s a good guy. I’m happy for you, Wyatt. I just wish…”

  “You wish what?”

  Sebastian sighed, looking up at the sky. “I wish I had that one guy who makes me happy. Who knows what I like and likes the same things. I’m so tired of being alone. God knows I’ve been an ass. I was a huge, ginormous ass to you when we dated; I’m glad you forgave me.”

  Wyatt grinned. “Well, Nikolai didn’t give me much choice. Damn, that man is fiercely protective of you, Bastian. Why didn’t the two of you ever hook up?”

  “Nikolai?” Sebastian laughed. “He’s like my brother; I can’t see him like that.”

  “Did you tell him? About the notes?” Wyatt asked.

  “Are you kidding me? You want Nikolai here? In Seattle? On a rampage?”

  “Point taken,” Wyatt frowned. For months now the gay football players had been receiving threatening notes, their cars had been broken into and their lockers defaced. So far, nothing really bad had happened but Wyatt knew things could change rapidly. He looked at Sebastian, who had started weaving back and forth.

  “Hey, are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I think so. I’m just…I don’t know, I feel weird.”

  “Like weird how?” Wyatt stepped closer to Sebastian, sniffing him without making it look like he was. His keen werewolf nose didn’t smell anything unusual, but Bas had been acting weird every time they were around each other.

  “Kinda like a head rush maybe?”

  Wyatt helped Sebastian sit. They sat quietly and watched the rest of the team running plays. Sebastian had changed a lot since they’d dated; he’d grown reserved and quiet.

  “Is everything okay at home?”

  Sebastian stifled an incredulous laugh. “Oh, just great. My father keeps asking when I’m going to stop being ridiculous and admit I’m not gay. He’s cut me off in every way since I came out, said I had to live with my actions. Thank God for Nikolai’s dad.”

  Wyatt smiled. Vicious Vince Markov, once an out-of-control killer and now an assassin for the government, had settled down and married an FBI agent. According to Nikolai, his dad was still vicious but being in love had kept his kill count to a minimum. “He’s paid your way at school, hasn’t he?”

  “And then some.” Sebastian leaned back on the AstroTurf. “He’s been there for me from the beginning. Well, him and George.”

  “How is George? I haven’t seen him for a long time. Probably because I don’t go to your house anymore,” Wyatt laughed.

  “He’s good, still calls me once a week and asks me about my classes, my grades and football. I guess he’s been to every game,” Sebastian mused.

  “Shit, your father doesn’t even do that.”

  Sebastian grinned. “George has been like my babysitter for my whole life.”

  A football came flying into Sebastian’s lap; he and Wyatt both looked up to see their team standing around them, hands on hips.

  “So, we just sit on our asses now?” Brock smirked.

  “Oh, it’s on!” Wyatt shouted.

  Sebastian stood up, laughing as Wyatt took off after Brock. He looked over at the rest of the players. “Well? Run, assholes.”

  ~~

  Nicholas leaned back in his chair and checked the time. His shift was almost over; he was hoping he wouldn’t be called out before he got a chance to leave. He sighed, running his hands over his face. Who was he kidding? Work was all he had these days. He took extra shifts just to keep busy and spent time with Scott and Jude - anything to keep his mind off the fact that he didn’t have a mate. It was depressing really.

  At thirty-two, things were looking bleak. He’d been born a wolf, one of the only werewolves born from two werewolf parents that he knew of. He hadn’t heard too many stories. His mother had gone crazy and killed herself; the feral side never quite left the women who had been bitten. His father had left after that. He couldn’t deal with raising a werewolf baby. Alexander had come into the picture and raised him from a pup.

  Nick scowled thinking about his father. What kind of man walked away from a newborn? An asshole, that’s the kind. He picked up his cup of coffee and took a swig.

  “Bleh!” Nick spit it back in the cup. The brown swill sloshed around then settled again. “Oh, I need some real coffee.”

  “Ask and you shall keep asking.” Nick leaned back, looking at his partner. “Well aren’t you just a dick?” Casey O’Shea was the biggest asshole in the precinct; no one would work with him except Nicholas. The day they’d met, Casey had called him a pretty boy and asked him how he liked his milk and cookies.

  Casey’s hair was so red you’d think he had dyed it. His skin was pale and his eyes were light blue. If the name didn’t give the hint he was Irish, everything else did.

  “I am?” Casey furrowed his brows in thought. “Oh! That’s right. I am.” “Burly dickhead,” Nick laughed, throwing his day-old donut at Casey.

  “Pansy ass.” Casey caught it, taking a bite. “So, got a new boy toy yet?”

  “Nope, haven’t found a guy I wanna bend over for yet,” Nick waggled his eyebrows.

  “Oh, fer fuck’s sake, Stevens,” Casey sighed loudly. “Now I have a visual.”

  “You’re welcome,” Nicholas whispered seductively.

  The door to their office slammed open and Nick sat up quickly. His captain looked panicked.

  “What is it, Cap?” Nick stood up.

  “School bus full of football players just turned over on the Five by Hubbell.”

  Nick looked over at Casey. “Let’s head out.” He had never seen his captain look this shaken, not in all the years h
e’d been working at the precinct. Captain Rhoades was usually a very calm man when he’d had his coffee. Nick’s eyes went wide.

  “Was Travis on the bus? Oh God, was Wyatt?” Nick’s voice rose.

  “I don’t know. Officers are at the scene, but I have no way of knowing until they get back to me.”

  “We’re out, I’ll call, okay?” Nick stopped by his captain, dropping his hand on the older man’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

  Nick practically ran to his truck with Casey trying to keep up.

  “Dammit, Stevens, slow the fuck down!” Casey wheezed.

  “Stop smoking, old man.” Nick hit the remote on his truck. He slid into the driver’s seat and fired the truck to life. Casey slid into the passenger seat, breathing hard.

  “I’m down to a pack a day,” Casey coughed. “Jesus, could you have gotten a louder fuckin’ truck?”

  Nick pulled out of the police precinct. “It’s diesel; I like huge, loud, gas-guzzling trucks.”

  Nick hit the Five with a purpose, siren blaring. He wove in and out of traffic deftly. They came up on the clusterfuck in the middle of the highway in no time. Nick jumped out of the truck and ran for the football players standing around the bus, looking dazed. He spotted Travis right away.

  “Travis!” Nick grabbed him by the shoulders. “Are you all right? What happened?”

  Travis blinked and tried to focus. “Detective Stevens?”

  “Yes, what happened? Is Wyatt with you?” Nick looked around the area, panicked.

  “Nah man, he was on the other bus with Bas,” Travis dragged a shaky hand through his short, spiky hair.

  “What happened? Do you remember?” Nick assessed Travis; other than a little cut above his eye, he seemed all right.

  “Don’t know. It seemed like one of the tires blew out in front, then one in the back. The bus driver tried to right us, but then I think he tried and…and…”

  “Overcompensated?” Nick provided.

  “Yeah, that. Anyways, we hit the side of the tunnel and rolled over.”

  “Okay, I can hear the paramedics coming; I want you to call your dad, okay? He’s worried sick.” Nick wrapped his arm around Travis, trying to comfort him. He heard a short whistle from Casey and saw him looking at the underside of the bus. “Stay right here, okay?”

  “Yeah,” Travis nodded. “’K.”

  Travis seemed to be in a daze still, so Nick grabbed his cell and called his captain. “Look, I’ve got Travis right here okay, Cap?” Nick handed the phone to Travis. “I’ll come find you in a sec, stay right on this spot until the EMTs get here.” Nick ran to the overturned bus, where Casey was kneeling down by the back end.

  “What’s up?”

  Casey pointed to the back end. “Something look fishy to you?”

  Nick narrowed his eyes. “The tires, the air is low on all of them.” He made his way from the back to the front. “Brake lines are cut, too.”

  Casey looked at Nick. “This was no accident.”

  “Looks like we have a case, partner,” Nick declared.

  ~~

  Nick followed the ambulances back to Harborview; he waited for all the kids to be seen before he started questioning them. Some had concussions; others had broken bones. The driver was in intensive care; the front windshield had slammed into him from force of impact. Nick went to the next kid on the list, Lance Walker, tight end on the football team. He entered the room and smiled at the young man’s mother pacing back and forth.

  “Mrs. Walker? I’m Detective Nicholas Stevens; I’d like to ask your son a few questions about tonight if that’s all right?”

  “Yes, sure, that’s fine,” she said distractedly.

  Nicholas sat by the bed and pulled his notepad out. “What do you remember, Lance?”

  Lance sat up, taking a deep breath. “We had just finished kicking Oregon’s ass…” Lance looked over at his mother. “Sorry, Mom. Anyway, we were singin’ like we always do, the new players, you know the freshmen who made the team, they were singing with us. We heard, like, this loud ‘pop,’ then the back of the bus kinda shifted. Then we heard another one. Bubba was, like, what the hell? Bubba’s the bus driver, by the way.” Lance looked over at the detective.

  “Then he, like, turned the wheel and stuff and I heard him say he couldn’t stop and for everyone to hang on, you know? Then the bus hit the wall in the tunnel and we skidded across the lanes of traffic. Next thing I know, the bus was on its side.”

  “When you say you heard a pop, you mean like a small explosion? Or did it maybe sound like a semi when the tires blow?”

  Lance furrowed his brow. “Like a semi, it was loud as hell.” Lance looked at his mother. “Sorry, Mom.”

  “Have there been any threats? Anything you can remember against the football team?” Nick wrote in his notebook.

  “We had some graffiti and stuff in the locker room.”

  “What kind?” Nick looked up.

  Lance’s cheeks went red. “Stuff against gays, mainly on Bas’ locker and Wyatt’s; they are two of the gay guys on our team. We have more than that and none of us care, you know? They play ball and they kick ass.” Lance looked over at his mother again.

  “I know, I know, you’re sorry,” she managed to laugh. “You’re twenty-two, Lance. I think you can curse.”

  Nick chuckled, continuing to scribble in his notebook. “Anything else?”

  “We had some stuff happen at the frat house, hang ups and stuff.”

  Nick stood up, closing the notebook and putting it in his pocket. He handed Lance his card. “If you can think of anything else, call me okay?” Nick put his hand out to Lance’s mother. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  Nick closed the door behind him and ran into Casey out in the hall. “What did you find out?”

  Casey pulled out his notebook. “I talked to Brock Holloway and Jordy Crain. Graffiti in the locker rooms, hang ups, cars being broke into and all of it happening to football players. Seems Sebastian Price gets the worst of it.”

  “Wyatt’s ex? Never met the guy.” Nick looked at the time. “It’ll have to wait until tomorrow. It’s after two in the morning.”

  “Damn!” Casey looked at his watch. “Where the hell did the night go?”

  Nick ran his hands over his face. “I’ll drop you at the precinct. I’m going to go home and shower the night off.”

  ~~

  By the time Nick got home it was well after three. He parked on the side street and walked up to his two story house. The houses on Adler Street sat up from the road so he dragged up the stairs, unlocked the door, slipped inside and turned the light on. He turned the alarm off and toed his shoes off by the front door. Making his way into the living room, he tossed his gun and badge on the couch and made his way to the kitchen shrugging the kinks out of his shoulders. The light was still on above the stove and he turned it off, reaching for his bottle of water in the fridge.

  He walked upstairs to his room on autopilot, undressing and throwing his clothes on the side chair. He slipped into the bathroom and turned on the shower to heat it up. His answering machine was blinking on the nightstand and he pushed ‘play’ as he finished undressing. Scott’s voice broke the silence.

  “Dude, we’re going running this weekend at the park, so take some time off and stop fisting yourself!” Scott laughed. “Call me!”

  Nick chuckled and turned the machine off. Stepping into the shower, he let the hot water relax his muscles and clean away the day’s grime. He’d been a detective for almost four years now; he’d gotten this far by catching criminals faster than almost anyone else. In the beginning he used his wolf traits to the fullest. Now he relied on his gut instinct.

  Toweling off, he checked out his reflection in the mirror. Light grey eyes stared back and black hair stuck up in all directions. He supposed he was handsome; he had a square jaw and high cheekbones. His nose was thin and not too long and he had full lips - not bee-stung lips, but full. Nick smiled at his reflection. br />
  “You are going to jack off until your wrist breaks,” Nick laughed at himself.

  He hit the bed and closed his eyes. He would have to go down to the college and talk to the rest of the football players. Something was up, and he didn’t like the feeling in his gut. If someone was after gay football players, Wyatt was in danger as well. Nick took a deep breath, letting his muscles relax. He shut his brain off and fell out.

  ~~

  Nicholas’ alarm went off at seven and he moaned, rolling over. Slapping at the annoyance, he threw his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed his face. He stood up, wincing as his back protested. He had just enough time to stop and get coffee before heading to the precinct, then on to the college.

  He stuffed down a quick breakfast and started his truck remotely as he grabbed the rest of his gear. The remote starter came in handy, especially when the weather was extreme. He could leave the heat or air conditioning on, start the truck and by the time he slid into the driver’s seat, it was comfortable.

  Nick made good time getting to the precinct. He slipped into his spot and jogged into the building. Casey was already at his desk, looking through witness statements.

  “Well, you look lively,” Nick chuckled. “You look like shit.” Casey leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms out. “Did you bring me some coffee?”

  “Nope,” Nick laughed, taking the coffee cup out from behind his back. He looked over at the coffeemakers that lined the counter in the main area. “How old is that stuff?”

  “Don’t care,” Casey yawned. “I need somethin’ man.” Casey took the proffered coffee from Nick and swallowed a big gulp. “Ahhh.” Casey tilted his head. “You look like you got hit with a big bag of what the fuck.”

  “Damn, you’re a bitter Strawberry Shortcake, aren’t you? All you need is the damn hat and striped green and white socks,” Nick chuckled. “I’m heading over to the college to talk to Sebastian Price, what about you?”

  “Frat house,” Casey rolled his eyes. “That’s all I need this morning, to talk to a bunch of delta gamma phi omega whatevers.”

  Nick laughed. “Not too happy having that detail, are ya?” “What can I say? I was the smart, independent kid. And I didn’t have to join an alphabet soup group to get girls.” Casey stood up, grabbing his notepad. “Lunch later?”