Hagen, Lynn - Remi's Pup [Brac Pack 4] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) by Lynn Hagen Page A

winded anyway. He needed to catch a breath before his next marathon. “If you’re not a cop, what’s with grabbing me?”
    “I just want to talk to you.”
    Drew turned around to face the guy. Abso-fucking-lutely gorgeous. Were his eyes really silver? Shit, they were. His eyes demanded attention. He even rocked the military cut. It was the color of dishwater blond. That‘s what his mom had called that color.
    Drew let his gaze drop to the guy’s chest. His T-shirt stretched across a chiseled chest and abs. He could actually see the ridges from the guy’s eight pack stomach. What did a guy who looked like a runway model want with him? To talk? About what? Why?
    He asked just that. “About what?”
    “You. What you’re doing. Getting help. Leaving that poison alone.”
    “Fuck off.” Drew’s attention was back on his purchase. He needed to get home. His heart was beginning to race at the thought of getting high. He needed to get out of here.
    Drew rubbed his hands up and down his arms. It was starting to hurt again. “Later.” He walked away only to find a shadow. “Look, I don’t need your help.”
    The guy didn’t say anything, his expression stoic. He just shrugged and continued to follow Drew.
    The apartment building came into view. He had to ditch this guy.
    Drew broke camp, running through the parking lot and around the side of the building, jumping a fence and heading to the back door. He made it in, the security door locking behind him.
    Tossing his coat on the couch, he crossed to his bedroom, grabbing the black box.
    What did that guy want? Couldn’t have been to help. He had to be some pervert out to snatch young guys. Thank god he got away. There’s was no telling what that man would have done to him, and as good as he looked, no telling what he would have let him do.
      Drew grabbed a lighter from his dresser before heading back into the kitchen. The box fell from his hand as he stood there in shock. The guy was standing in his kitchen.

    * * * *

    Remi knew what his mate was about to do, and there was no way it was going to happen. He grabbed the kid’s arm, shoving his sleeve up.
    The warrior closed his eyes, not wanting to see what he suspected. Track marks littered his arm like spiderwebs. Remi wished he could heal them, but they were too old to do anything about. It would be a constant reminder to his mate of what his life had been about.
    His mate yanked his arm away, shame showing in his eyes.
    “How the hell did you get in here?” The smaller man bent down, grabbing the black box. Remi snatched it from him and opened the lid. Drug paraphernalia. A growl ripped from his chest as he pulled the items out, breaking and bending everything, shredding the plastic band into tiny pieces like a crazed man.
    “Stop! What are you doing? Give it here!” The kid dove for Remi’s hands, trying to save whatever he could. Remi destroyed it all.
    “Give me what you bought.” Remi knew that’s why the kid was at the mall. He had watched the transaction, watched as he shoved a small yellow packet into his coat pocket. That packet needed to be destroyed.
    The kid shot into his bedroom, the snick of the lock indicating the man’s intent. Oh, his mate was really asking to get his ass kicked. Remi’s eyes shifted, too enraged to hold his wolf back any longer. His brows furrowed in anger as he kicked the door open, and he saw his mate stuffing something in his closet. Remi grabbed his arm, pulling it back to find a little yellow packet smashed in his palm. He wrestled it out of his grasp and found the bathroom, flushing it.
    “No! No! No! What have you done?” The guy was screaming, swishing his hand in toilet water as he tried to save the powder that had already dissolved. Remi grabbed him and hauled him to the bed, blanketing his body over his mate’s while the kid fought, fought hard.
    “Fight it, kid. Fight it. Don’t let it win.” He held on as the guy bucked and screamed. Sweat poured down