Feeling the Way, CH 15 (Patreon)

What can I tell you about my brother?

Take a tiger, not the civilized kind, but the four-legged one. The wild one. The one who would rather tear you apart than say hello. Good, now have him walking on two legs like the rest of us, put him in leather. Not the safety leather like I wear, but the leather jacket with spikes on the shoulders and elbow, faded jeans, thick boots with a metal cap over the toes, nice and visible so you know what he’s going to kick you with when it happens. He’s utterly disheveled; as if a brush was something he had never heard of. And when he looks at you, well, trust me, that murderous glare isn’t an act.

And just to be sure you really don’t know what to expect, he’ll do something like what he does as me and Bridgette enter the seedy bar. Stand, smooth his jacket, smile and pull the chair for her and gently push it in as she sits.

My brother was taught to respect women. That is the one lesson that has ever stuck. Our fathers tried a lot of things to get him to behave like a normal person. They would have settled for him behaving like an Orr, but Wolfgang was an animal from the moment he was born. He bullied us, his brothers, the moment he could walk and make fists. He was even worse with people outside our family.

The moment our fathers lost track of him, we knew there would be a cop showing up with an assault charge, if not a rape one. Wolfgang never met a guy whose objections he couldn’t ignore.

So, when he was thirteen, in an attempt to at least ensure he couldn’t use his influence on who our father set on him to keep him out of trouble, they hired ten of the top-rated female mercenaries, to act as his nannies/bodyguards. Their instructions were to use any level of violence they felt was required to keep my brother in line.

The rest of us had a bet going as to how long until they quit. The longest any of us thought they’d last was six months.

Like me, Wolfgang is now thirty-seven, and while the composition of his retinue has changed, both in who the women are and how many, they are still around.

The decision was that we all lost, so we all fucked one another. Yes. Fucking is the standard thing on the line in any of our family bets. Since everyone hates it, it motivates us to win. Except for Whitney, who enjoys bottoming for some reason.

Which made for amusing moments of watching our fathers try to come up with ways to get him to stop when fucking is how they’d normally show us we had displeased them. In the end, like my empathy, it became something our fathers tolerated. It helped that Whitney can top with the best of them, while I’ll never be the cold and heartless Orr that they are.

“Where’s mine?” Wolf demanded, indicating my cup. I’d wisely kept out of his reach.

“The bar’s right over there.” I indicated it, where five women were seated, looking in our direction. Each of them was what straight men would consider the epitome of Amazonian beauty. I just knew them as deadly. They had to be to keep my brother in check.

Oh, they still beat him regularly, but now it was because Wolf asked. They were just about the only people who could take him down. Wolf fought dirty, which meant he used his influence all the fucking time.

“What’s the point of having a brother if he isn’t going to bring me a drink?” Wolf asked.

“You do know this is coffee, right? Not beer.” I sat opposite him at the same time he did.

“Bring me a beer!” he yelled and a harried-looking buffalo appeared from a door, filled a glass from a tap, and placed it before my brother, spilling some in his hurry to leave.

I watched in horror as Wolf drank half of it in one gulp. “You drink from the tap? Dad’s going to kill you.”

Wolf snorted. “You think they have anything better in a place like this? Bud Light as exotic as the selection gets.”

I shuddered.

I’m not a beer snob, but Arnold taught me good taste.

I looked around, confirming it was only the two of us and Wolf’s retinue. “So, please tell me it’s only a coincidence that you’re in the same city I am. And that you had Brigitte track me down because you miss my company.”

Wolf thought about it. “Nah. Your ass ain’t that good.”

I sighed. “So why are you here and why am I in this bar?”

“You’re here because I want you here,” he stated. Then he was silent for a long time, which never bodes well. A silent Wolf is a planning Wolf, and a planning Wolf is one that’s about to unleash hell. He doesn’t need to plan to unleash that, but when he does take the time to plan, you can be certain you aren’t going to enjoy the results.

“I need your help,” he finally said.

I stared. “Say that again?”

“No.” He glared at me.

I looked for the barman. I was going to need something strong for the rest of this conversation. Not seeing him, I called out. “Barman!” He peeked out from the doorway. “What’s the strongest thing you have.”

“Scotch?” he answered tentatively.

“Bring me a glass and the bottle.”

“Just one glass?” Wolf asked as the barman hurried behind the bar.

“You’re drinking beer. If you want scotch, you can order it yourself.”

The barman placed the bottle and a glass before me and I handed him a crisp hundred bill. He looked at it, horrified, then at my brother.

“What did you threaten him with?” I demanded. To which Wolf only gave me a raised eyebrow. “I swear, Wolf, I don’t understand how our fathers ever allowed out to leave the house.”

My brother smirked and motioned to the women at the bar.

“I believe their job was to keep you from pulling these kinds of stunts?” I looked at Brigitte, the de facto leader of Wolf’s retinue. “Why did you let him threaten this man with rape?”

The cougar raised an eyebrow. “Sex was never mentioned where I could hear it. Wolfgang offered ten thousand dollars for the exclusive use of the bar for the day and the barkeep agreed.”

“And what do you think my brother got up to while you were trailing me?” I asked.

She smiled. “I can’t speak to that. That’d be impolite.”

I rolled my eyes and fixed my glare on my brother. “You’re not supposed to be able to influence them.”

He snorted. “I didn’t influence anyone.”

Now I snorted.

“I’m thinking you have an inaccurate impression of me, Wyatt,” Wolf said threateningly.

“I grew up with you. I know how you are. So you can stop with the implied threat of influencing me till I beg for you to fuck me.”

“Wolf,” Brigitte said, and my brother raised his hands placatingly. I so wish I could get my brother to stand down that easily. My ass wouldn’t have been sore so often.

I filled the glass and down it. Then I looked at the bottle. This was barely scotch. The barman, who hadn’t left, winced under my gaze. 

“It’s the real thing, I swear. I don’t water my drinks.”

“That’s the price you pay for always drinking quality, Bro.” Wolf was smirking as he finished his beer and smacked his lips as if it was Ambrosia.

I filled the glass again and downed it, and then a third. At the fourth, I had a slight buzz, and I knew I had maybe five minutes until it passed to get through the pain Wolf’s explanation was going to be.

“What could you possibly need my help with?”

“With that talking think you do.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“I need you to do the talking thing you do.”

“You mean stinging words together in such a way other people understand what I’m saying, instead of not making any sense, the way you’re doing now?” I downed to other glasses as I felt the buzz diminish. Another time when I hate my constitution.

“I mean the way you can get people not to punch you,” Wolfgang growled.

“You mean, you need me to make sure someone doesn’t punch you?” I looked at Brigitte. “What did you do to my brother?”

“I got you like he asked.”

I looked at Wolf. “You don’t want someone to punch you?”

My brother grumbles something I didn’t understand in his empty glass. With the hearing I have, that is quite the feat. I downed two more glasses.

“Repeat that so I understand it.”

“Dad told me to fix this without fighting.” He glared at me as if that were my fault.

“And by this, you mean?”

The glare intensified. “I might have pissed off the Russian cartel.”

I smiled. “Might?”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine, I pissed them off.”

That made the dad in question Aaron. He was in charge of the illegal activities in San Francisco. Somehow he thought he could groom Wolf to take over once he was too old for it, which, considering Anakin’s gift, should take a very long time, but the simple fact Aaron thought someone like Wolf should be in charge of anything showed he isn’t the smartest of our fathers.

“I’m not going to ask how.” I downed two more glasses. I had to speed this along or I wasn’t going to have enough scotch. “Alright, you need me to keep you from starting a fight. Give me ten minutes and I’ll have you in enough chains you won’t be able to get out of them.”

“I need you to keep a fight from starting with them.” He pointed to the door as a reindeer entered, his antlers trimmed artistically to make them barely fit through the door. Behind him, four more reindeer entered, spreading on each side. Their antlers weren’t as decorated, but the art style matched. Behind them, seven more entered. Smaller racks still, and fewer decorations, but the bodies were all just as big.

The Russian cartel wasn’t exclusively reindeers, but I’d never heard of other species making up the ranks beyond gang leaders. Anyone claiming racism and discrimination simply vanished. Not caring about laws and consequences makes running things a lot easier.

Although my family at least tries to be more understanding of people’s plights and things like recognizing that someone well suited for a position should come before what species they are.

“You,” the lead reindeer said, “have desecrated my father.”

I looked at Wolf.

“The guy said he could beat me in any contest I picked.”

“And you didn’t kick his ass?”

“He’s a guy,” Wolf said, as if that was all the answer I needed. I considered it, then the glass on the table, and settled for drinking from the bottle directly. 

If only I could get solidly drunk.

I was still buzzed enough I almost gave in to the temptation to ask if he was a decent lay at least. I’d hate to get in the middle of this for a bad lay.

I’d expected this to be about Wolf stealing money or drugs from the cartel, not fucking one of its leaders.

I stood and, keeping the bottle with me, I stepped halfway between the men and my brother’s table. I’d call for a second bottle, but that would be disrespectful to them. They might be vodka people.

“Greetings,” I said in Russian, “I am Wyatt, brother to the beast that is seated at the table, I am hoping that—” I stopped at the confused look the reindeer gave me. That they all gave me.

Oh great. High-ranking people in the Russian mob who didn’t speak Russian. This just got more complicated because I’d have to watch what I said as to not insult Wolf on top of not insulting them. I took a swig from the bottle.

Being drunk right now would be so much better.

“I’m Wyatt, Wyatt Orr. Is there any way I can convince you to resolve this peacefully?”

“You are part of his family?” the leader said with disdain.

“I’m his brother,” I answered with a sigh.

“You could sound more appreciative of the fact,” Wolf said.

“Do you, or don’t you, want my help?”

“I don’t.”

I glared at my brother. “Then why am I here?”

“Because if I start a fight, Dad’s going to put me in a chastity belt again.”

I looked at him uncomprehendingly. “When has one of those things ever stopped you?”

He sighed. “He had one made by a Thinker he knows. The damned thing can’t be broken. He let me try when he told me to fix this.”

“Wow. Someone has come up with something—” I raised a finger to silence the reindeer. “—speaking here. I’ll get back to you in a bit. So Aaron found a way to no longer need the retinue?” then something else occurred to me. “Oh fuck. They aren’t going to only threaten you with that thing, are they?”

“I’m working on a way to disenchant it, but this needs to be dealt with first.”

“You do remember you can’t simply threaten whoever you want to work on that, right?”

“Who said I’ll be the one talking with them?”

“Wolf, when you say “I’m dealing with something”, the implication is—” I hung my head. “You’re dumping that on me too, aren’t you?”

Wolfgang smiled. “What else are you good for?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re leaving me the power to get you out of that belt. What’s my incentive to even try?”

“The fact that if it’s going to work on me, it means no one can get out of it.”

“I hate you.” I put the bottle to my lip and reconsidered. I’d just allowed myself to be distracted from a leader of the Russian cartel. Maybe I needed to let the buzz pass. I took a last swig and put the bottle on the table next to me.

I straightened as I faced the reindeer again. “You have my sincerest apologies for the distraction, but if I hadn’t resolved this issue with my brother, he would have been intolerable with his interruptions.”

“Hey,” Wolfgang called.

“Do you, or don’t you, need my help, Wolf?”

The put-upon sigh was answer enough.

“As I was saying, I’m sorry for the interruption. Now, I understand that having my brother have sex with one of your leaders.”

“My father,” the man snarled.

“Right, your father. May feel like a horrible thing—Wolf chair scraped as he stood—but really, was any lasting harm done?”

“My father’s honor had been tarnished. Only blood can repair that.”

“Right.” I closed my eyes, took a breath, and tried to will the buzz away early. It isn’t something I can do, not without using a phrase, but the attempt made me feel better.

Unfortunately, the Russians were some of the people who, after magic was revealed to the world, realized my family uses it, and they hate magic. I could write something on my hand with a felt pen, and it would be enough to start a fight.

I watched the man and his underlings. I dismissed them. They were here for the fight and nothing more. They had no emotional investment in what happened to their leader’s father.

The man before me was hurt. What Wolf had done to his father had destroyed the father figure he’d held on through all his hardship. His father had been the one person he aspired to be like. Unbreakable, able to withstand anything, until Wolf broke him. The act perpetrated on his father wasn’t as important to him, no the pain his own father felt meant little to him compared to how losing the image hurt.

I wasn’t stopping this fight. Like all egocentric in the world. This was only about the man’s bruised ego.

I hate those kinds of people.

“Wolf, dad said that you couldn’t start this fight, right?”

“Yeah,” my brother answered, disappointed.

Which meant I could. Aaron wasn’t a stickler for the rules, but I could talk him out of him punishing either of us. But I didn’t want to start the fight. Oh, the fight would happen. I couldn’t see a way to talk ourselves out of it. But it would start despite what I said, or did, not because of it.

So I opened my serious attempt at defusing the situation with my best guess, considering those Russian didn’t even speak Russian. “Can I offer you a glass of vodka?”

“Are you racist or something?” the man replied.

“Then what could I offer you to drink while we sit down and resolve the situation?”

“Wine, red, Italiano 2036.”

“Are you serious?” I looked at the bar we were in. It was a dive. I doubted they had any kind of wine.

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

I wanted to offer that we move this to a venue where he could get his wine, but Wolf would insist on coming with us, and I wasn’t taking him anywhere that had that kind of wine.

I motioned to the table, took the bottle, and lobbed it at my brother. “Then let us sit and discuss this as sober gentlemen.”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you implying I am an alcoholic?”

I hadn’t even considered that, but looking back on how he’d moved, the careful way he stepped, as if his balance was off, his red-shot eyes, and the way he kept his hands into fist… well fuck. A sober alcoholic might be worse than one with a few glasses in him.

“No, I would never do that to a man in your position. Excuse my poor choice of word.”

He looked at my brother. No, the bottle he was draining. “Are you sober?” the reindeer demanded.

“Unfortunately,” I replied. Wastes of time were so much more enjoyable when I was drunk. At least I figure they had to be. I’d never experienced one. Getting drunk took too much work. They became the point of the activity.

I pulled a chair for him, positioned it so his back was to my brother. No need to remind him of what—

The man went and sat at my brother’s table.

Was he looking to get himself killed? Wolfgang glared at the man. He went to the extent of bringing me in to minimize the damage, and the reindeer went and poked the wolf. Wolfgang turned the glare on me as if this was my fault.

Well, the man didn’t want this resolved peacefully, so his behavior made sense.

“You,” the reindeer told my brother as I took the only seat left, facing Brigitte, who was keeping a neutral expression by force. She had to be enjoying this. “Are an animal.”

Wolf responded with a silent ‘well duh’ look. My brother is quite aware of the kind of person he is; quite proud of the fact, which is why it’s such a problem. You can shame someone into behaving better when they think they are an upstanding member of society. Animals just don’t care.

“Yes, he is,” I said, trying to pull the conversation my way. “And as such, can his action be—”

“Animals need to be put down.”

Wolf narrowed his eyes. “You have something against animals?”

“Only those who hurt my father.”

“He liked it,” Wolf stated.

“Wolf,” I replied, annoyed, while the reindeer bristled.

“He did. I didn’t even have to influence him. I set the terms, and he agreed. Was eager even.”

“My father would never!” the reindeer was on his feet.

I sighed. It wasn’t that Wolf had fucked his father that was the problem. It was that his father was at the very least bi. Fuck, in this day and age, why are there any homophobes left?

“Couldn’t you have settled that contest in private?” I asked Wolf.

“We did. He arranged for the room and everything. I certainly didn’t talk about it.” I eyed my brother. “Hey, I respect a guy who can stick to the agreement he made. I’ll laugh at anyone who acts bigger than they are when, and after, I’ve put them in their place. But he tried to beat me, I turned the game on him and he played it, never complained. I’m not going to mock him.”

Which meant one of the Russian had spied on it and talked.

“You lie,” the reindeer said. “You raped my father.”

“I did not,” Wolf snapped back. “Sure I was ready to do it, and I wasn’t nice about it, but he asked for more when I was done.”

The reindeer had the gun in his hand for less than a second. It was barely out of the holster before Wolf had it and the reindeer was holding his hand in pain.

Wolf looked over the gun before handing it to Brigitte. “Does this qualify as him starting the fight?” he asked me.

“No.” I stood. “But they do.” The other reindeers came rushing at us.

I let one of them throw the first punch and connect. Brigitte fought only for as long as it took her to make her way to the bar with the others. Wolf’s expression became more and more maniacal as the fight continued.

We won. 

That’s a ‘well duh’ comment. We’re Orrs. There are very few fights we’ll lose, all things being equal. And a dozen guys against two of us doesn’t even tip the odds in their favor. The fight was messy. Wolf left a lot of broken bodies, but no dead. Killing was something Wolf wasn’t allowed to do. The reason given was that it was too easy for him to do, but I knew the truth. Covering it up was just too much trouble for our fathers to want to deal with it.

So they’d set the punishment really high. Just remember everything we talked about here to get a sense of how high it’s got to be for my brother to take that threat seriously. He couldn’t kill, but maim, that was on the table and he rejoiced in it. I left my opponents unconscious, but mostly unbroken.

I sat at the only intact table while Wolf went behind the bar and served the women. I took out my phone and made a call I wasn’t looking forward to.

“Wyatt, why are you bothering me?” Aaron answered. And I love you too, Dad.

“I’m calling to tell you that Wolf did everything in his power to resolve the situation with the Russian peacefully.”

“Really?” the disbelief dripped through my phone.

“Yes, Dad. Your threat worked.”

“Except he didn’t resolve it peacefully.”

“You said he couldn’t start a fight with them. He didn’t, they did.”

“That isn’t what I meant,” Aaron snapped.

“It’s Wolf,” I replied, “you can’t expect him to understand subtext. If you don’t say it, it goes over his head.” Wolf glared at me from the bar. My brother isn’t stupid, far from that. Stupid had been bread out of my family centuries ago. Survival requires smarts. But I have no problem playing off his perceived level of intelligence. Wolf likes playing dumb. Our fathers know him well enough to know it’s an act, but—

Arron sighed. “Right. Did you at least see him try not to escalate?”

“I was there. He brought me in to try to resolve this, so you know he took your threat seriously. I did my best, but we were dealing with injured ego looking for any excuse to retaliate.”

“Fatalities?” he asked, the dread audible.

“None.”

“Really?”

“With what’s hanging over his head if he does?”

“I expected him to claim it was justified.”

“Twelve against him? Come on Dad. He isn’t that dumb. And I was there.”

“I’m… I’m actually proud of him. He’s showing some restraint.”

Under threat, I didn’t say. “Do you think the Russians are going to send anyone else after him? I have other things to do than constantly try to keep him from getting in fights with them.”

“Nah, don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure they know to stay away from him.”

I sighed. Of course, Aaron had allowed this to happen. His fucked-up way of trying to teach Wolf something. “I’ll let him know. Thanks, Dad.”

“Thanks for being there for your brother,” he said, as if that was the highest compliment he could give me. Thank you for being of use. If I didn’t know it was given with actual love. If my fucked-up family didn’t have fucked-up ways of saying “I love you.” I’d have cursed him out.

Instead, I disconnected.

“You’re in the clear,” I told Wolf. He grinned and preened for the women as if it had all be his doing. “How are you dealing this them?” I pointed to the unconscious bodies. “I’m not.”

Wolfgang shrugged. “The locals can deal with it. It isn’t like I was here.” He looked at the barman cowering in the doorway. “Is it?” The man hurried to nod.

“Okay, then I’m off. Don’t call me again.”

“What, you’re leaving already? I haven’t rewarded you for your part in this.”

I stopped, almost at the exit, and slowly turned to face him. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?

He patted the counter top. “Just come bend over and I’ll fuck you.”

I rolled my eyes and flipped him the bird. “Fuck you.” I exited the dive bar, going through my contacts. After this, what I needed was something simple. A simple problem to solve and simple sex. Fortunately, I had someone who could help with both.

“Special Agent Elias Johns,” he answered.

“Elias, it’s Wyatt,” I said. “How would you like to know about a potential unknown kill site of the Wanna Be killer?”