Gregory's Rebellion (2019 Reissue)

  Gregory’s Rebellion

  Lavinia Lewis

  Copyright Lavinia Lewis 2019

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  License notes

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of Lavinia Lewis.

  Warning: This book contains material that some readers might find disturbing or objectionable and is intended for mature readers only.

  Back Cover Information

  Leopard shifter Gregory is delighted to finally meet his mate, but why doesn't the heavily scarred young jaguar shifter, Hayden, recognize their bond?

  When supernatural council employee Gregory Hale is sent to Las Vegas to pick up a stray jaguar shifter, he thinks it will be an easy job.

  But upon his arrival, Gregory discovers that his quarry is his destined mate - a mate that doesn't recognize their bond.

  Hayden has an angry-looking scar running the length of his left cheek, but he won't tell Gregory how he got it or why he hasn't shifted into his cat form for the last two years.

  Clearly, something bad happened to Hayden, but can Gregory convince his wary mate to confide in him about it?

  To make matters worse, in recent months, a lot of council employee’s mates have been murdered so Gregory doesn’t want to tell his employers that Hayden is his mate for fear of what could happen to Hayden.

  Instead, he lies to the council - risking his job and his life - and takes Hayden to Texas where he’ll be able to protect him.

  But is Hayden as safe on the Crazy Horse ranch as Gregory had imagined?

  Reader Advisory: The events in this series follow chronologically so each book is best read in sequence as part of the series.

  Chapter One

  “Well, go on.” A brilliant smile spread across Mac’s face as he nodded to the present in Hayden’s hands. “Open it.”

  Hayden held on to the box as if it were made of glass.

  He stared at it longingly, allowing himself to get lost in the dream for just a moment, then shook his head and handed it back.

  “I can’t accept this, I’m sorry.”

  Mac frowned. “Now listen here, you’ll offend an old man if you don’t keep it. And you don’t want to get on the wrong side of your boss now, do you?”

  Hayden sighed.

  It had been a long time since anyone had given him a gift of any kind. He didn’t mean to be ungrateful, but he didn’t want Mac to think he was some sort of charity case.

  “Uh, I don’t know…”

  Hayden chewed on his lip while he tried to decide what to do.

  “Listen up, kid, it’s your birthday and I’m giving you a gift. Get over it.”

  Mac thrust the box back into Hayden’s hands with a satisfied nod.

  “Fine, I’ll open it, but if it’s expensive I swear to God—”

  “Will you quit yakking and open it already? I’m growing old here.”

  Hayden rolled his eyes but the corners of his mouth tugged up into a smile. He had to admit he was curious to know what was inside. He picked delicately at the tape holding the package together, trying not to rip it.

  “Christ, son, you’re worse than my wife. You’re not planning on keeping the paper too, are you?”

  Hayden’s cheeks flooded with heat.

  He would never have admitted it to Mac but that had been exactly what he’d planned on doing. The paper was purple and sparkly and he could use it for, well, for something.

  Mac tapped his fingers impatiently on the kitchen worktop.

  Hayden finally managed to get the gift unwrapped, revealing a white cardboard box, a little smaller than a shoebox.

  “What is it?”

  “Jesus, kid, give it to me. I’ll open it myself.”

  “No, I can do it.”

  Hayden lifted the lid on the box and peered inside.

  There was another box inside the first, but this one had an image of the item on the front of the box.

  Hayden drew in a sharp breath, as a lump rose in the back of his throat. Tears formed behind his eyes, threatening to shatter his resolve. It had been three years since he’d last cried and after that time, he’d sworn he never would again. But, as he stared from the gift in his hand to Mac’s speculative gaze, cracks began to form in his carefully constructed dam.

  “Well?” Mac asked. “Do you like it? If it’s the wrong kind, I’m sure I can change it.”

  “No,” Hayden said, “It’s perfect. It’s a, it’s a…”

  “I know. It’s a Kindling.”

  Mac sounded triumphant.

  “A Kindle,” Hayden corrected.

  It was a good one too, not the cheap kind.

  “Yeah, right. Well, I told my wife whenever you’re on a break you’ve always got some scratty book in your hand so she said you might like one of these. Apparently, all the kids have them.”

  Hayden bristled at the word kid.

  Today was his twenty-first birthday so he was now officially a man, but he let the comment slide. Mac was practically old enough to be his grandfather, so to him, he probably did seem like a kid.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  Hayden swallowed down the lump in his throat, which had grown so big he felt as if he were choking on it.

  Mac shrugged. “Just say thanks.”

  “Thank you,’ he whispered.

  He lifted his head to meet Mac’s gaze.

  It was something he didn’t do often, but, to his relief, Mac was looking him directly in the eye and his gaze didn’t once drift lower.

  “Welcome.”

  Hayden sniffed and a solitary tear escaped his eye and trickled down his cheek.

  “Now, now. We’ll have none of that.” Mac cleared his throat and patted Hayden roughly on the back. “You’ll start me off. It’s nearly opening time and you don’t want my damn customers to think I’ve gone soft, do you?”

  Hayden chuckled and stared down at the gift in awe.

  He’d wanted an e-reader for years, but he couldn’t afford one. Hell, he could barely afford his rent. When you added utilities and food on top, Hayden was flat broke for at least a week out of every month.

  Now that he came to think about it, he couldn’t even afford the eBooks to read on the device. The books he usually read he got from yard sales or thrift stores—the same places he got all his belongings.

  When he couldn’t even afford that, he went to the library.

  “Oh, I forgot to give you this.” Mac placed an envelope on top of the box. “Mary said you’d need it to go with the Kindling.”

  Hayden put the box down and opened the envelope. Inside was an online store voucher for a hundred dollars.

  Hayden practically choked on his surprise.

  “This is too much, Mac.” He shook his head firmly.

  “Nonsense. You’re worth it, kid. Best employee I got.”

  “But I just wash dishes here.”

  Mac raised an amused eyebrow. “Say what? You used to just wash dishes here.
For the past ten months, you’ve been helping out the cook and filling in when he’s not around.

  “I’ve had you cash up, do my banking… Hell, last week I had you lock up the joint, and do you know how many other people I trust to do that? None.”

  Hayden worked hard but, while it was nice to be appreciated, he’d never been much good with compliments. Probably because he had no experience receiving them. He wasn’t sure how to respond or if Mac required anything other than the thank you he’d already supplied.

  A loud banging on the diner door pulled Hayden from his thoughts.

  “Mac! You in there?”

  Mac grinned. “That’s my cue, son. Enjoy your present.”

  “Thank you,” Hayden said again.

  He didn’t think he could manage anything more profound.

  Mac nodded and walked into the diner to let in Dianne, one of the waitresses on the early shift. Hayden stared down at his gift again, shaking his head. He couldn’t believe Mac had been so generous. He would have to think of some way to repay his boss for the gesture.

  Ten long hours later Hayden put away the last of the pots and took off his apron. He wasn’t sorry to be leaving—it had been a busy day, he was hot and tired and in desperate need of a shower, but he was sorry he had to go back to his crummy little apartment alone.

  Still, he was old enough to buy himself a beer now. Maybe he’d stop off at the liquor store on the way home. He grabbed the gift on his way out the door and said goodbye to Pedro, Mac’s one and only chef.

  Mac was busy fixing a drink behind the counter as he left.

  “See you tomorrow, Mac.”

  “Yeah. Tomorrow, kid. Have a good night. Say, you meeting up with friends to celebrate your birthday?”

  “Yeah, something like that,” Hayden lied.

  “Well, have a good’un.”

  “Thanks, Mac, and thanks again for the gift.”

  The heat barreled into him as soon as he stepped out into the balmy night, making him feel even stickier than he’d been before he left. The diner wasn’t fancy but it was doing okay by all accounts and Mac had just splashed out on an expensive new air-conditioning system for the place. It was essential for the hot, arid days and nights that were so commonplace in Las Vegas. But of course there was no cool air in the kitchens where Hayden worked—the last thing Mac needed was complaints about the temperature of the food.

  Hayden moved to Sin City because it had seemed like a place he could get lost in, a place he could hide. He’d been attracted to the bright lights and conveyor belt of new faces, but, since he’d arrived almost two years ago, he’d been on the main drag a grand total of twice. He may have been able to get lost in the sea of faces there, but he’d felt as if he were drowning in them. Every person he passed stared at him like he was some sort of freak.

  He really hated how cruel people could be.

  Crossing the busy road outside the diner, Hayden kept his head to the ground, careful not to catch anyone’s eye. It wasn’t that he disliked people in general—he just couldn’t stand to see the pity in their eyes when they looked at him.

  Taking the familiar route, Hayden walked the few blocks home and stopped off at the liquor store across the street from his condo. He scanned the aisles, looking at the different types of beer on offer. Coors seemed to be a popular brand. He picked up four bottles then mentally added up the change in his pocket. He frowned, replacing two and taking the remaining two to the counter. The elderly clerk eyed him suspiciously when he placed the two bottles of beer in front of him.

  “ID?”

  Hayden pulled the card from his wallet and handed it to the man. The clerk looked from the picture in his hand to Hayden’s face and the moments ticked on uncomfortably. Hayden squirmed under the scrutiny then lowered his gaze. He had to look away. He knew what the man was staring at—the same thing everyone stared at when they looked at him.

  “Birthday today?” the clerk asked at last.

  He took Hayden’s money and rang up the sale.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And you’re only buying two beers?”

  “Guess I’m not a big drinker,” Hayden mumbled.

  He didn’t want to tell the man that two beers were all he could afford.

  “Well, enjoy.”

  “Thanks.”

  The clerk picked up the newspaper he’d discarded, dismissing Hayden, but, just before he turned to leave, Hayden saw the man’s eyes look over the top of the paper to stare at his face.

  After he’d let himself into his tiny condo, Hayden threw his keys on the table in the hall then stripped off his damp shirt. The place was like a furnace, but he couldn’t afford the bill for the air conditioning so he had to suffer the heat.

  He took a cold shower, threw on an old pair of cut-offs then stretched out on his threadbare sofa. The springs creaked loudly as he sat down and Hayden hoped the old thing would last because he didn’t have the money to replace it.

  He was used to being broke, but sometimes—well, most of the time actually—he wished his life was different. Why couldn’t he have had parents who’d loved him, no matter what? Hayden didn’t often think about his life back home—he wouldn’t allow himself.

  The memories of that time were too painful.

  But sometimes the thoughts crept into his head like weeds and took root. Once planted, there was no getting rid of them. Hayden might just be feeling nostalgic because it was his birthday, but he had a burning desire to call home.

  It had been five years since his parents had kicked him out of the house for being gay. When his father had caught him making out with his friend Tommy, he’d got the worst beating of his life—and that was saying something.

  He’d spent the five years since struggling, feeling as if he were climbing a steep hill with no end in sight. He’d done things to get by that made his face burn with shame. Had his parents thought about him at all in the years since he’d left? What about his younger brother, Joey? Joey would be sixteen now, the age Hayden had been when he’d left. Did Joey ever ask about him?

  Did he have more siblings he didn’t know about?

  Hayden tried to shake the thoughts from his head. What would be the point in calling his parents? They’d made it perfectly clear they never wanted to see him again and that was just fine.

  He was doing great without them, wasn’t he?

  Hayden reached for the Kindle he’d left on his coffee table, a small smile playing over his lips. He might not have family in his life anymore, but he had Mac. The man had been good to him since he’d shown up at the diner, penniless and hungry. Hayden didn’t want to think about where he would be now if Mac hadn’t taken him in and given him a job.

  He’d probably still be giving handjobs at truck stops for a ride to the next town and so he could eat that day. He shivered at the unwelcome thought. He might not have much, but he’d come a long way since then.

  No, he couldn’t call his parents.

  He was a man now—he didn’t need them anymore. Mostly everything he owned, however cheap or old, he’d bought out of his own damn money, and that gave him an immense sense of pride. He’d proved to himself that he could make it on his own, without their help or love.

  Sure, he might feel lonely once in a while but he always got over it. Hayden cracked open a bottle of beer and took a long drink. He grimaced. He didn’t much like the taste of beer, but he supposed you didn’t have to like it to drink it.

  Getting up from the sofa, he walked into his compact bathroom, leaned over the washbasin and took a good look at himself in the cracked plastic mirror on the wall.

  He rarely looked at his own reflection.

  Not because he was bad looking—he wasn’t. He had pale blond hair, piercing light blue eyes and fleshy pink lips. His nose was narrow and turned up slightly at the end. It could almost be described as delicate. His features were very nearly feminine but strong enough that he could never be confused for a girl. But it was the angry-looking sc
ar that ran from the corner of his eye down his left cheek to his top lip that flawed his otherwise handsome face.

  It was an attribute most people couldn’t see beyond, himself included.

  Looking down at the half-empty bottle in his hand, Hayden curled his upper lip in distaste.

  He didn’t feel like drinking anymore.

  Maybe the beer had been a bad idea. He knew alcohol was a depressant and that was something he most certainly didn’t need. Even without alcohol Hayden sometimes got into a funk that was difficult to get out of. Emptying the remaining beer away, he brushed his teeth and got himself ready for bed.

  Turning out the lights in his condo, he lay down, praying for sleep to take him quickly so he wouldn’t have to be alone with his thoughts. When he slept he would be free to dream of a better life where he had friends, a nice home and maybe even someone who loved him.

  Chapter Two

  Gregory watched the young jaguar shifter cross the street from the liquor store and let himself into his condo. It was a run-down building in one of the seedier areas of the city, home to more street gangs and meth addicts than Gregory cared to think about.

  It was a dump.

  The council had told him to bring Hayden in three days ago.

  Normally that wouldn’t have been a problem. This was an easy job and Gregory had even been allowed to come alone. Actually, he had insisted upon it. He’d refused to be paired up with another partner after Ashton had been killed a few weeks ago. Usually, on jobs like this one, he’d have got in, grabbed the kid and got out without breaking a sweat. Yet here he stood, three days later, still watching the young shifter like he had all the time in the world.

  Gregory had to admit to being intrigued.

  More than intrigued, he was damn near infatuated.

  He reached a hand down to adjust his errant cock, cursing his damn stupid body for betraying him. He’d been painfully hard for the last three days just watching Hayden from a distance. God only knew how his body would respond when he came within touching distance of the young man.