You're Worth It (shifters and partners #24) Read online

  Table of Contents

  You're Worth It (shifters and partners, #24)

  Patreon | Join my newsletter | About the story:

  You're Worth It

  Chapter one

  Chapter two

  Chapter three

  Chapter four

  Chapter five

  Chapter six

  Chapter seven

  Chapter eight

  Chapter nine

  Chapter ten

  Chapter eleven

  Chapter twelve

  Chapter thirteen

  Epilogue

  Also By Hollis Shiloh

  Story copyright July 2019 by Hollis Shiloh. All rights reserved. Do not reproduce without written permission from the author. All characters and events are fictitious, and any similarity to real people or events is coincidental. Image content is being used for illustrative purposes only and any people depicted in the content are models. Cover design by Natasha Snow.

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  About the story:

  WILL IS GAY, A SWEET but forgetful wolf shifter who doesn't seem to have any standards for who he "dates." That bothers his partner far more than it should.

  Elliot (who is definitely, definitely not gay) was deeply traumatized by growing up in a strict belief system. In his mind, there's nothing to be gained from examining too closely who he might be. Nothing but pain, heartbreak, maybe even damnation.

  An overly-friendly fox shifter, a fat orange housecat, and a lot of soul-searching may end up changing his mind.

  Because sometimes secrets won't stay buried. And at some point, he has to tell the truth, to himself—and to Will.

  43,500 words

  You're Worth It

  by Hollis Shiloh

  Chapter one

  "Balfour and Hunt! Get your asses in here!"

  Even though I knew—well, almost knew—we hadn't done anything worth yelling about, Will Hunt and I exchanged a worried look. The captain's shit list...what could we have done now?

  Will looked faintly guilty, but then he always does when anyone's mad at him, like he'd grown used to accepting that he's just automatically wrong and anything he doesn't get is something to be ashamed about or yelled at over. Sometimes he reminds me of a puppy that's being scolded and doesn't know why, but figures he was probably bad, anyway.

  I know, I shouldn't compare my partner, who is a grown man and a wolf shifter, to a puppy. But with those faces he can make? Sometimes, I can't help it. That's why I never get it when someone says he can be a real scary dude. Will? He's a puppy.

  It's also why I hate to see the kind of guys he dates. They never last long. But it's always too long for me. And it's even worse when he just hooks up with random strangers. It makes me die a little inside, even though I know it's none of my business.

  We got up from our desks and went in to see the captain, not hurrying—or trying not to hurry. Will's shoulder bumped into mine lightly as we walked, an accident, you'd think, but I knew his body language, and he was seeking comfort the only way he knew how, by sticking close to me, his partner.

  It was my job to protect him, explain the world to him when it didn't make sense, be his go-between, shield, and best pal. I squared my shoulders and took a deep breath. I put a hand on his back, my silent promise I'd be there, he didn't have to face anything alone.

  We went through the door.

  The captain was pacing. His scowl was worried or angry, but not about us. Good. But somehow Will couldn't tell; his face kept that blank look that hid his anxiousness.

  Will hated it when the captain was angry or disappointed in him. The captain, an older man in a position of authority, upset with him, could distress him like little else. Not that he was too thrilled if I got mad at him, or anyone else did, either. But it seemed like it bothered him most if the captain was upset with him.

  I didn't know if the captain was a kind of father figure or substitute pack leader, or some other man he'd have looked up to if he'd still had a pack. But Will definitely looked up to him more than a little. And the man didn't want it; he wanted employees who could do the job and not make a hash of things.

  You'd think we'd be good at that, with Will's job skills and mine combined. We should be the best of the best—most focused, efficient, and capable team he had. You'd be wrong. We tried, but we weren't the greatest cops who ever lived. Will's forgetfulness didn't help, and apparently I was too clean-cut and straight-laced to be a great fit for the department. If not for Will and his nose, a lot of them would have thought I was useless. My parents thought I was a swearing, filth-wallowing heathen, and my coworkers thought I was a goody-two-shoes. I'm not sure what I thought I was.

  My partner glanced at me anxiously, that furrowed look to his brows as he all but begged me to handle this part of it. And I would. I always would.

  "Captain, what seems to be the problem?" I sat down without being invited to. Will raised his brows quickly, then hurried to sit down as well.

  He would almost certainly mirror everything I did till we were out of here: crossing his legs if I did, folding his hands, leaning forward, leaning back. I couldn't tell if he did it on purpose or not. It made me simultaneously want to laugh at him and want to wrap him in cotton wool to protect him. Nobody should hurt Will. And I included the captain in that. The captain, Will's dates, the world.

  The captain turned to glare at us—his distracted glare, not the angry one. He looked momentarily surprised that we'd seated ourselves, but didn't comment on it.

  "Got a tricky job for you two," he barked. "Think you can handle it?"

  Beside me, Will twitched, but let me answer.

  "Depends what it is," I said. "Is it something we'd be particularly suited for, sir?"

  The captain reached up to scratch uncomfortably at his receding hairline. "You might be. In a manner of speaking." He looked really uncomfortable at the question. "It's bodyguarding duty. Need someone to escort a witness. There've been some issues with the people assigned to protect him. Security leaks. We've got to get him through this area safely and hand him off in time to testify for—an important trial."

  He cleared his throat awkwardly. "The fewer details the better. Let's just say it would be a black eye for the department to lose him in our precinct, even if the Feds should be able to handle it on their own. Obviously, they can't. So, can I count on you two?"

  Will twitched and cast me a nervous look.

  "Why are we suited for this job, captain?" I spoke even more calmly since Will and the captain were obviously anything but calm. "Is this star witness perhaps a shifter of some sort?"

  "Yes. Is that going to be a problem?"

  I glanced at Will. He leaned forward eagerly and opened his mouth. "I love all shifters! That is, except for skunks and, well, foxes. But I'm sure—"

  "He's a fox." The captain's face was turning slowly red and mottled.

  "I—I love foxes, too," said Will, his face going through several changes. "I mean, I'm sure I can get along with him. For a bit." He looked down at his hands on his lap, twiddling his fingers together, keeping his eyes down. "I'm a great bodyguard. Ask El," he mumbled, his words fading away.

  "The best anyone could ask. Captain. Is this the best use of resources? The two of us as bodyguards?"

  "Sure. Of course it is. Hunt will smell trouble coming, and you two are tough enough to take on anyone who comes after this guy. Besides, you've only got to drive him through our county and across the state line, deliver him safe and sound into the hands of the appropriate authorities, and it's done. You guys can do that."

  Maybe so, but he sounded like he was trying to convince hi
mself, not us. I stood up. "If it's because we're disposable—"

  It's not often I succeed in shocking both my partner and our boss into silence. Evidently today was a day for surprises. They both stared at me like I'd gone insane.

  "El," said Will awkwardly, making an embarrassed little face. "You can't say that."

  "Neither one of you is expendable," said the captain, looking like I'd grown a second head. I didn't seem to have even offended him, just shocked him—that it would even occur to me.

  Maybe they were right, and that was a dumb place for my brain to go. Let's just say I'm not the most trusting of people.

  The captain gave us details and sent us on our way. Will hurried after me. "El, you know we're not expendable. Right?"

  I glanced at him, uncertain if he was asking for reassurance or trying to give it. His brows were in a funny little furrow, and he looked concerned.

  I studied him a moment, then shrugged. "It could be my own issue, I guess. Anything's possible."

  He caught my arm and leaned on me a little, as close to a hug as he dared, I guess. Will was a warm, touch-oriented, physically affectionate wolf shifter. He was also a gay man working in a less than gay-friendly environment. He kept himself in check, self-conscious about making anyone uncomfortable. Including me.

  If he did make me self-conscious sometimes, it wasn't his fault. I knew he didn't mean anything by it.

  "We'll never be expendable," said Will. "You're a highly trained police officer and graduate of the Shifters and Partners program. And I'm a wolf." He gave me a hopeful little smile, eyebrows rising.

  "Is that your only qualification?" I smiled a little sadly. Sometimes Will had a low opinion of himself.

  "That, and you." He snaked his arm through mine. "Come on. I need a snack before we hit the road. Then let's pick up this fox and be heroes!" He grinned at the thought.

  His "light snack" was more likely to be a huge meal to anyone else, but I followed without complaint. A hungry wolf is not at his best, on the job or off. "Are you sure you're fine with a fox? You just said—"

  He grimaced, bobbing his head a few times. "Yeah. Yeah. I know, but it'll be fine! I'll be cool, I promise!" He made a "cross my heart" gesture and gave me that hopeful grin of his, the slightly disreputable grin that showed his chipped tooth and crooked smile, the brightness in his eyes making him way more appealing than he had any right to be.

  "Okay." I gave him a pat on the back. I knew he wouldn't let down the captain on purpose, so I'd have to trust him about this. We'd have to make it work.

  Still, it was worrisome that he'd said he got along with every kind of shifter except for foxes, just before the captain said our guy was a fox.

  AFTER WILL'S "SNACK," we loaded up with a to-go bag full of food, water, and first aid kit. I like to be prepared for trips with Will. Then we headed out, taking an unmarked car. We wore vests and we carried, but to outward appearances, it was just two guys traveling together.

  It was about an hour's drive to the meet-up, and no time to be lost, so I didn't even consider arguing when Will wanted to drive.

  Will loved to drive. I was surprised he never hung his head out the window and howled at cars as he passed them on the freeway. Not that he was any more likely to do that than anyone else. He just got really intense about driving.

  Today he was even more intent as he drove. "You think there'll be any problem?" he asked me, trying not to sound nervous. "The captain seemed freaked out about something."

  "He didn't even tell us what the guy's testifying about," I mused. "Maybe it's so dangerous we're better off not knowing."

  "I like to be prepared," said Will.

  I scoffed. He was lucky I didn't bust a lung laughing.

  "What? I do!" He was hilarious, with his offended look.

  "You need me to remember water, band-aids, and food," I pointed out. "You'd regularly run out of gas if I didn't remind you to fill 'er up."

  "Well, that's what you're there for. I'm prepared by taking you along."

  "Your logic." I shook my head. Of course, he didn't take me along on his nights out, now did I?

  "You're my partner and I count on you to remember the stuff I'm too dumb to get right," said Will, trying to sound dignified.

  "Don't call yourself dumb. You just don't bother trying." I sighed. I hated it when he was down on himself, as much as I hated being taken for granted.

  He cast me a quick, perplexed look, slightly hurt. "I do try, El. I'm trying all the time."

  I fiddled with my window, then checked my phone. I could have made a joke about him being trying all right, but he wouldn't have gotten it. It would've just been mean. Will wasn't great with puns, homonyms, or homophones; he'd understand he was being teased, but not always why, and it could hurt him when I didn't mean to. It would be even worse to confuse him when I actually was annoyed. He was a little too good at reading my emotions. I couldn't really hide them from him.

  I knew I was being slightly unreasonable. They told us when we signed up that we'd be looking after our wolves, helping them with the things they found challenging about the modern world. But some of this was a Will thing, not a wolf thing; I'd known some pretty organized and with-it wolves who didn't forget anything and everything. However, Will was my partner—I hadn't ended up with one of those organized wolves.

  "I just don't understand how you managed without me, if it's that hard for you to remember gas." I wasn't planning to say that out loud. I felt like a jerk for starting an argument when we'd be stuck together for a while. Not that we weren't usually. Generally, I didn't mind that, but sometimes, every single thing he did or didn't do got on my nerves, and I couldn't keep my mouth shut.

  For a moment, he was silent. He looked hurt, which was worst of all. Finally he spoke, very quietly. "I ended up along the side of the road with an empty tank a lot, El. I didn't function, without you."

  I suppose on some level, I knew that. And I didn't mind helping, but I did mind feeling taken for granted. I should still accept it and just help the best I could, but sometimes, especially when I was annoyed with him, it was hard to remember.

  Yeah, I was lucky to have him as my partner—but he was lucky to have me, too. How many people would drop everything to pick him up at three a.m. after he'd gone home with a stranger, had lots of fun times in bed, then abruptly wanted to leave—having forgotten his phone, left his car at the bar, and been unable to manage calling for an old-fashioned cab ride of shame. Or so he implied. But of course, somehow, he managed to call me. I didn't know why it bothered me both when he called me and when he didn't.

  It was such a shitty feeling, driving out at night, scared and a little sick, picking him up in his half-dressed, dazed and sleepy state. I was always frightened that something had happened to him. Afraid for him, annoyed with him, and so worried...

  He'd called like that more than once. I'd always rushed to rescue him.

  Would he start being safer if I didn't? Or would he just take whatever consequences came from risky sex and forgetfulness? Not that he'd admitted to having risky sex, but if he went home with strangers, and forgot literally everything else, I had to wonder.

  Maybe that's what I was upset about, more than gas or food or anything else. His most recent call in the night was just last week, and I wasn't over it. Not because he'd needed me, but—some other reason. It wasn't the first time he'd done something like that, and probably wouldn't be the last.

  I'd known signing up that my partner was gay, and I'd been okay with that. What I hadn't known was how hard it would be to watch his self-destructive behaviors and not be able to help him in any real way. He was gay, yeah. But did he have to waste himself on such useless jerks?

  All of this left me feeling shitty and mean. I couldn't forget about how he'd looked that night. I hated how he seemed to have no discernment about who he slept with, and then got surprised when he was so unhappy afterwards.

  I remembered him sitting numbly in the passenger seat of m
y car, covering his face with his hands, not speaking to me, till I got him home. He'd looked frazzled and miserable in his wrinkled, so-thin-it's-barely-there shirt, his shorts so short they only covered part of his ass. He'd had a few lipstick stains around his mouth, although most of his makeup had been wiped, smeared, or kissed off already, and his eye makeup that had gotten smudged, too. He liked to dress up on his nights out.

  It really bothered me seeing him like that. Far more than was rational, I knew. Didn't mean I knew how to deal with it, though.

  My partner, who could more or less pass as straight on the job, if he wanted to, liked a more made-up and fancy look for his clubbing nights. I didn't know all the correct terms, but he certainly had a look. Mostly makeup and skimpy clothes, from what I could tell. I didn't know if he pulled it off, because I only ever saw it when he was at the end of a disastrous night and wanted me to bring him home. My partner, my wolf, my disastrous gay friend. I couldn't fix it for him, and that bothered me most of all.

  He hadn't wanted me to stop or come inside, to make sure he was okay. No, he just wanted to be dropped off. A quick "thank you," slam of the door, and he'd hurried inside, head down. I was worried, but I couldn't force my way in. I couldn't make him take care of himself, and apparently, I couldn't do it for him—at least not about this area of his life.

  The next morning, he'd always act like he was fine. He wouldn't want to talk about it. Nor did he want to change a single thing about his life, like choosing hookups and dates more carefully, going in with a backup plan, and—

  Fuck, did he even use protection? He'd always tell me not to worry about it, with a little laugh, acting like I was silly for asking. But I worried. I was the one who had to pick up the pieces. It hurt, seeing him like that. Pissed me off, too.

  He drummed his fingers on the wheel now. "You know I appreciate you, right? I probably don't say thank you enough, but I really do mean it."