Page 33 of The Bull's Head

“I don’t need your fucking help,” Byk snarled.

“You need it more than you think,” Teddy said. “You’re sick, and you need me.”

“Fuck off, faggot.” He turned back to the bar. “Give me another beer.”

The bartender, a human, stood straight, stared Byk in the eye, and said, “You’re cut off.”

That enraged Byk. He lunged at the bartender, and the only thing that saved the man was the wooden bar that stood between them.

Teddy clamped a hand on Byk’s shoulder and spun him around. “Knock it the fuck off!”

Byk snarled and clenched his fist. He swung, but Teddy grabbed the hand in midair and held it there.

“I’m ready for you this time. You can’t hurt me.”

“The fuck I can’t.”

Byk thrust his leg up, his knee slamming into Teddy’s balls. It hurt like a bitch, but it wasn’t going to stop Teddy.

“Best you can do?” Teddy taunted him.

A sneer marred Byk’s usually sweet face. “Not even close” came the reply.

Chapter 11

Byk fought like a wild man. He tried to hit Teddy repeatedly, but this time Teddy was ready and blocked the feeble attempts. When Byk lowered his head, Teddy feared he was out of time. He could sense Byk was close to a shift.

“You’re not really good at this, are you?” Teddy taunted. “How about we go somewhere with more room?”

Byk stood, his nostrils flared. “I’ll kick your fucking ass anywhere, anytime.”

“Then let’s go. No reason to destroy this place if it’s me you want.” He shoved Byk’s shoulder, knocking him back. “Come and get me,” he goaded.

“I’ll kill you for that!” Byk screamed.

Teddy hurried out the door. He needed to get Byk away from here before the bartender called the police. The last thing the pack needed was that kind of scrutiny. He hit the street and took off at full tilt. It was imperative he get Byk away from the town and the people. If he could move into the woods, he’d be okay, even if Byk shifted.

He looked over his shoulder and noticed Byk was lagging behind. That wasn’t a surprise. Years of muscles atrophying had left Byk easily winded, while Teddy trained nearly every day to keep his physique.

“I thought you were going to beat me?” he called out, slowing his pace to allow Byk to keep up. “Guess you’re not as good as you thought, huh?”

They’d just entered the woods that surrounded the town. As soon as they were off the road, Byk bellowed. It was time.

Teddy stopped and turned to find Byk stripping off his clothes. “Byk…. Why are you doing this? I thought we were friends.”

“I don’t even fucking know you!” Byk ground out. “I turn and find you with your fucking hands on me, and that’s bullshit man. My brother’s the fag, not me.”

Wait. What?

“What did you say?”

“Callum is the faggot, not me.”

“You’re Callum. My Byk.”

That caused Callum to falter. “No, I’m… Cooper. I’m not….” He blinked rapidly, his eyes stuttering like a camera lens. When they stopped, the gaze sharpened as he stared ahead. “Teddy?” Byk grabbed his temples. “Teddy, what’s wrong with me? Why do I hear Cooper’s voice in my head?” Byk threw his head back and screamed. “I’m Cooper!”

“No, you’re not. You’re Byk. My Byk,” Teddy said softly, moving closer to the now wild-eyed Byk. “You allowed me to brush you, remember? You like the brush, you enjoy the attention.”

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