Jarvis

Chapter 1 “As I live and breathe, it’s Jarvis Hayward.” The breathy voice had every single part of him jolting upright to attention. He turned away from the kid he was talking to, a boy by the name of David who was suffering with some heavy PTSD thanks to an abusive uncle, in search of the owner of that voice. When his eyes fell on her, everything that had narrowed down with ecstasy flared to life again. “Cinda,” he said cordially. “What are you doing here? I thought you had some fancy post up in Boston.” Jarvis was on the Council of an MC, The Nomads, and one of his brothers, a fellow Council member, was the unlucky sibling of the b***h in front of him. Mundo and Cinda were night and day. Mundo joked around and was capable of having a laugh. Cinda was always serious. She’d gone into investigative journalism a hell of a long time ago, and had stayed in the field which had had her ping-ponging all over the States. Jarvis considered himself to be cool under fire, to have an even temper. These beliefs were shot down in flames whenever this female was around. It was like the Goddesses had tailor made her to push every single one of his buttons. “I was. Until I transferred.” He snorted. “Transferred or pushed?” Her eyes widened with irritation. “Mundo needs to learn to keep his big trap shut.” “The day you manage to achieve that is the day you also find the solution for world peace.” He pursed his lips. “Give me a second. That is,” he started, tilting his head to the side. “If you’re here for me.” She nodded. Once. He turned from her and back to David. Rather than loom over the kid the way he had, he took a second to sit opposite him. About twenty years ago, when loneliness had kicked him square between the balls, he’d opened a kind of youth shelter. It was an odd choice for a Bear Shifter and MC rider to make, he guessed, but when a dude had a calling, he had a calling. Few of his brothers had known about the shelter. Maybe only one or two and their mates. Until recently. He hadn’t gotten too much s**t over it yet, but there was still time. The main room was loaded mostly with mismatching tables and chairs. This was where the homeless kids came to eat. There was another room for hanging out, but it went mostly unused. He couldn’t blame the kids for staying in here. Food made this room a beacon. Sitting down heavily, he asked, “David, why don’t you go to the clinic’s doctor?” He funded the shelter with his own money, but some of the expenses were covered via donations. Toni, a brother’s mate, was a doctor. Of the five in the MC who’d known about the shelter, she’d been one of them. “What? So they can dope me up with drugs? I ain’t no addict, Jarvis. You know that.” The kid was filthy. Top to toe. He refused to use the showers on site, and wouldn’t even look through the piles of donated clothes. He had serious mental health issues that weren’t being addressed, and Jarvis felt like s**t because he knew he wasn’t doing right by the boy. Running his hand through his hair and massaging his head a little didn’t beat off any of his frustration. “I never said you were an addict,” he murmured carefully. “But you know Toni. You’ve seen her. She’s nice. She can help.” “I don’t need no help, Jarvis. I’m fine.” Knowing he’d pushed David too far today, and hating that he couldn’t do more, he said, “Okay, Dave. You know I only push because I give a s**t, right?” The kid jerked his chin up in understanding. “Can I get something to eat now?” Jarvis nodded, watching with sad eyes as the fifteen year old scrambled away, nose almost in the air as he scented out what was for dinner. Half the back wall was open, canteen style, to the kitchens, and even Jarvis’s Bear was rumbling hungrily. The chili sure smelled great today. Digging into his eyes with his thumbs to ease the ache gathering there, he sighed. Then stiffened when he scented Cinda’s approach. Her heels tapped against the linoleum floor, and the chair squeaked as it scraped against it. “You smell different,” he said gruffly, not uncovering his eyes. “I do?” she scoffed. “You always were a charmer, Jarvis.” “My main goal in life was to always be the opposite,” he said shortly, moving his hands away this time to stare at her. As his Bear tried to figure out why she scented differently—was it a new perfume?--Jarvis asked, “What are you doing here?” “I heard about the shelter from a friend. He mentioned your name, said you were in charge, and were the head of the charity here. I had to come and see it with my own eyes.” He looked her over and watched her stiffen up as a result. Her She Bear grumbled behind her eyes, making the beautiful chestnut orbs flash with an amber glow in discontent at his perusal. She had long red hair that swung about her shoulders in glossy, bouncy waves. She’d never really switched from the Farah Fawcett Major look in the original Charlie’s Angels. Though the style had worn out of fashion a long time ago, she’d never changed it and he knew why. It suited her. It framed her heart-shaped face to perfection. Highlighted her sharp, high cheekbones, and the red contrasted perfectly against her creamy, porcelain skin. She had a high brow topped with a widow’s peak, and rich russet eyebrows that flared at the sides a though she were constantly angry. Her mouth was like sin. As red as her hair without paint, but now it was brighter still thanks to some gloss she’d swiped on. Her button nose led to a Cupid’s bow that was meant for licking. And that was just her face. His Bear responded to the curves she’d covered in a tight pencil skirt that clung to her ass and thighs, and the short-sleeved blouse with froufrou ruffles which didn’t hide her t**s any. “You always were beautiful,” he said gruffly. “And you always knew it.” She firmed her jaw as she leaned forward. The move parted the high button neckline of her blouse so he could see the ripe swells of her breasts. “And you always were a jerk.” She clicked her fingers in his face. “My eyes are up here, buddy.” “Buddy?” He huffed out a laugh. “When have we ever been buddies?” “I got on with every single one of my brother’s ‘brothers’.” She shook her head. “But you and I were always like this. Always ready to fight.” He pursed his lips. “Can’t you tell why?” She frowned at him. “What are you taking about?” “Your smell. It’s changed,” he told her again. “So what?” “You’ve gone off birth control, haven’t you?” he said, his tone roughening as the ramifications of what his Bear was trying to transmit to him started to hit home. He’d been too wrapped up in David’s problems to really take notice at first. But when she’d passed him, then taken a seat and he’d had a chance to look at her, really look at her, his senses had processed something he’d never noticed before. “Did Mundo ever tell you about Pip and Major getting together?” he asked conversationally, but his voice had deepened, growing rougher as his emotions started to spill out of control. “No,” she said shortly. “And I never asked. Just because I have ovaries doesn’t mean I’m interested in everyone’s happily ever after.” Her snark had him narrowing his eyes. “Jealous?” he asked softly. For a second, that amber glow appeared. Her riled Bear flashing into existence was a warning to him to back off. But he’d never been frightened of her. Never even been frightened of her She Bear, and Goddess, She Bears were f*****g insane when they shifted. Batshit. They’d kill without concern and tear into a poor SOB without compunction. The reason? Not because they were feral or rabid, but because a She Bear could only shift when she felt threatened. Or cornered. It took a lot for a Shifter female to feel that way, so Jarvis figured the fucker behind the fear deserved whatever he got handed to him on a plate. “I came here to help,” she spat, then sank back into the seat and shook her head at him. “I should have known there was no helping you.” When she made to stand, he grabbed the wrist she placed against the table edge for support. “Don’t go. I’ll behave.” “You never could. Why should I believe you’d start now?” Choosing to ignore that, he repeated, “How did you want to help me?” The way she pouted her lips told him she was still justifying whether or not he deserved her help, but she glanced around the shelter. “From Justiss, I’d expect something like this,” she said softly, referring to one of Jarvis’s brothers. “Maybe even Major.” Then she wrinkled her nose. “Although he always was a bit of a d**k too, so maybe not. But I’d never expect this of you” He let go of her hand and folded his arms across his chest as he settled back into the chair. “Gee, that’s so kind of you to say,” he snapped, surprisingly offended by her remark. She grinned, apparently liking that she’d managed to score a hit. “You were always the quiet one. Always the one watching your brothers’ backs… maybe it does make sense that you’d try to do the same for these kids.” She jerked her chin in David’s direction. “What’s his story?” Jarvis turned to look at David who was hunched over his bowl of chili and had a look on his face that spoke of dying and going to heaven. Jarvis always instructed the servers to give David more. The kid was too scrawny anyway, but the way he lived, refusing to get clean, he needed the meat on his bones to stave off illnesses. As he dipped a big chunk of cornbread into the chili loaded with cheese, Jarvis murmured, “Been on the streets since he was thirteen. Decided that was the time to stop being his uncle’s play toy.” Jarvis’s Bear wanted to roar in anger, either that or hunt down the perverted son of a b***h and rip him to shreds. The worst thing was, tracking the uncle down wouldn’t be hard at all. “Every time the authorities come for him, he sneaks off again.” “How come? Surely the abuse would make Social Services sit up and listen?” He turned away from the kid, letting him eat his dinner in peace, and shrugged. “Uncle’s a big wig in the Council. He’s not going anywhere. Social Services are doing David a service by turning a blind eye to him now. It helps that he’s sixteen. He’s gotten better at sneaking away.” Jarvis loosened his arms and used a hand to grip at the back of his neck where more tension was gathering. It was getting harder and harder not to react properly to her scent. Even David’s tale, so horrifying and usually the source of such fury on both the man and beast’s behalf, wasn’t enough to hold one hundred percent of his attention. “He’s been coming here since he was thirteen?” Cinda asked softly. Sadly. Her pouty lips turned down a little at the edges and her rich chocolatey eyes were wide with distress. “Yeah. He’s been around a long time. Just comes in for dinner. That’s it. Sometimes he’ll talk, most times I leave him alone because I don’t want him to stop coming. I live in hope that one day he’ll have a f*****g shower.” Cinda’s mouth curled up at the corners. “He refuses?” Jarvis rolled his eyes. “Yup. Toni says it’s some kind of rebellion against his mom. David believes she knows about the abuse and is quite willing for her brother to r**e him.” “Goddess, that’s terrible.” “Just one of the many very shitty stories about this place.” He grimaced. “You never get used to it.” “I guess I can’t blame him for rebelling. Mundo was such a pig back when he was that age. Goddess, he stunk. Anyway, Dad had to grab him by the ears, drag him outside, and hose him down from time to time when Mundo took the rebellion too far.” She grinned. “That was so f*****g funny, watching him howling in the back yard in his skin. He hated that I used to bring popcorn out to watch.”