High Infidelity [Midnights #2]

chapter 4

Peter had been waiting for what felt like an eternity. And yes, he knew he was being dramatic, but he didn't care right now. This was the single most important meeting of his life. For one, it would determine exactly what his life would look like for the foreseeable future.

He kept rubbing his sweaty palms against the one pair of pressed khaki pants he owned as the nervousness settled into the pit of his stomach, churning it quite unhelpfully, if he did say so himself. But the nauseous feeling was gone as quick as it had come since everything, including the anxiety wafting off him, came in waves.

One second, he was fine. The next, he was ready to throw up all over the ancient carpet in the office they had escorted him to the moment he'd stepped foot inside their local Department of Human Services regional headquarters.

After another second, a woman entered. She carried herself like someone with the weight of the world on her shoulders, but not in a way that might bury lesser mortals. No, she reveled in it. Peter could tell. And he admired her for it instantly. But the stern, and otherwise emotionless, look on her face terrified him.

"Hello, Mr. Hale," she began, sitting behind her desk. "Thank you for coming in today."

"Yeah," he offered back lamely.

He had no idea what to say. Peter had no practice with this sort of thing. And he hadn't even thought to pray that he might never experience it either. Now, that felt foolish. Safety had always felt like a foregone conclusion since they were fucking werewolves.

Oh, how wrong he had been.

She considered him for a second and then pulled out a large stack of papers before plopping them on the desk between them. "Well, let's go through this and you can be on your way. If you'll just sign here, you can get out of here, okay?"

She pointed a manicured finger at a spot on the front page, holding out a pen with her other hand. He perked an eyebrow at her. "What's this?"

"It just says that you release all legal claims you have regarding the guardianship of your nephew," she replied nonchalantly.

Then she fucking shrugged. Like she hadn't just totally and completely destroyed him.

"Why in the hell would I do that?" he asked through gritted teeth, barely containing his anger.

"You're 22."

"And?"

He sighed heavily in the next instant, scooting back in his chair and away from the desk, wanting to get as far as he could from that paperwork. "You think putting him in foster care is a good idea?"

"It wouldn't be for that much longer, Mr. Hale."

She was right, of course. But it would be long enough for something terrible to happen, Peter was convinced. Derek would be an unfettered Beta. Vulnerable. Defenseless. Unguarded. Hell, any wolf without their pack was at risk, but a lone Hale pack member out in the world was basically just asking for shit to hit the fan.

No. Not going to happen. Peter had lost enough for a few lifetimes.

"I'm not signing that," he insisted.

"We're out of options, Mr. Hale." Her tone now held a hint of heaviness it hadn't earlier. "Your sister granted guardianship of her children to her parents should anything happen to her. Not you."

Peter stood so fast his chair slammed against the floor, vibrating slightly on impact. "They were in that fucking house with her. And I was second in line. I was always the back-up plan."

"You're in school," she continued.

"I dropped out last week," Peter conceded. "You know, when our entire family died." He let out a huff, knowing none of this was her fault. He just had nowhere else to direct his vitriol about the situation. "You're really going to take the only family I have left from me too?" She didn't respond, so he decided to get everything off his chest. "She set us up, you know, financially. If that's what you're worried about. It's not a lot. It's not like I'm winning the lottery or anything. I... I just want my nephew."

"You're very nearly the same age," she argued. "What could you possibly offer him in terms of wisdom?"

As much as he hated to admit it, that one had him faltering. Stumbling. Stuttering. He had no real answer for it. And it's not like he could tell her that he was the Alpha, and with it came certain inalienable truths and responsibilities. Humans couldn't know werewolves existed. But he couldn't lose Derek either. There was just too much that could and likely would happen if he let Derek out of his sight for that long. He couldn't risk it.

He couldn't risk Derek.

"He's my family, ma'am," Peter said, his shoulders slumping slightly. "He's all I have left." He could sense the hammer about to be brought down, but he had to try. He had to get it all out. "I'll figure it out. I promise you. You can have someone come and check on us every week. Every damn day, if you need to. You can even have the school call you the first time he's tardy, but..." He gulped loudly, struggling to dislodge the lump forming rapidly in his throat. "But please don't take him away from me. I can do this."

She stared right at him before a small smile began to spread slowly. And then pulled out another stack of papers, replacing the first, which she put right in the trashcan near her feet.

"What's this?"

"Congratulations, Mr. Hale. It's a bouncing teenage boy," she teased. "I hope you know what you're doing."

Not at all, he thought. But he wasn't about to voice that.

"Thank you, ma'am. For this chance."

"I will be checking on you, Mr. Hale."

"Understood."

The delirium as he signed the second set of papers in several places made him dizzy. He couldn't believe it had worked, that he'd convinced her—or really anyone—that he was an acceptable replacement for a parental figure in Derek's life. But that didn't matter right now. Someone trusted him. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough.

Now he just prayed that he was enough.

And then he gasped loudly, sucking in a lungful of air as the ropes holding him to the beam above his head twisted painfully, forcing jolts of excruciating, searing agony through his already tortured body.

He was back in that basement. He was still strung up. He was still being maimed and beaten regularly, blood pouring from slowly healing wounds all over his torso. But the panting wasn't from the physical torment. Nope. No way. That was from the emotional bullshit his mind seemed content to subject him to at regular, maddening intervals while being stuck in here.

But all he could think about, the only face that popped into his head before the pain dragged him under again, was Derek. And praying that they hadn't found him too. That he wasn't a room away going through the exact same fucking thing.