White Wolf Rising [Completed]

Part 25: Bloodied

The day dragged on slowly as Freddie did as he was instructed; sit and wait. Wait to hear from Caleb or wait for Stan to call with news. He was being left in the dark, he had no idea what was happening. He knew it was a mistake letting Caleb leave the other night. He should of chained his lying ass to a chair.
After five hours of pacing, working out in his spare bedroom filled with dumb bells, weight bench, and yoga mat, he paced some more. Showered. More pacing and waiting…
Finally he had had enough. He was going stir crazy in his own home. Freddie felt his stomach grumble and quickly decided to go grab a quick lunch.
Giving himself one more look in the mirror he splashed on some after shave that smelled of mint and ocean breeze and placed a small Barber’s comb in his pocket. His ear length brown hair was slicked back on the sides and left hanging loosely up top. He threw on some black slacks and a white button top, with black suspenders and headed out the door.
Freddie always made sure he looked his best before stepping outside of his door, unlike many of the men in this small town he took pride in his appearance. One thing his father taught him before he died, was to dress to impress. His father was a Deputy and a ladies man himself.

But he died when he was a teenager. Stan was only 19 when it all happened, but he took in Freddie and two others when the Sheriff’s Department was set ablaze. Gave them a place to stay and showed them how to fend for themselves. He became the Alpha of their small group without ever wanting the responsibility.
Instead of falling apart, Freddie immediately got legally emancipated and he helped take care of the others. But he had mostly been on his own since then. Foster Care wasn’t an option for him. Especially not being Lycan. Which was what the state wanted.
Freddie shook all those old thoughts from his head. Moments like this, when he was left with nothing but his thoughts, his mind tended to drift to things that they shouldn’t. His father, his teenage years being ripped away, the loss of his clan. He didn’t want to dwell on any of it.
Living only a few blocks away he figured he could stop by the Honeypot Bar, grab a beer, order his favorite flaming hot chicken wings and be back in less than an hour. Stan would never know he left and he had his cell is Caleb called.
After a two minute drive he pulled into the Honeypot, grabbed a seat at the bar and ordered an ice cold beer. Two women sitting together in a booth across the room waved at him. Heather and Christie, two women that he had known a while, intimately. While both had been a fun to roll in the hay , both were boring lovers. No frills or excitement.
He was not a man to complain but he found himself trying to stayed entertained  with Christie. Which he did by making her cum as many times as possible, because the way she sounded at the moment of orgasm. She would throw her head back and would make sounds that resembled that of an angry chipmunk. And it was funny to him.
Heather on the other hand was quiet and loved missionary and eye contact. She wanted him to stare into her soul while he called her pretty names like Princess and Buttercup. Definitely wasn’t his style, but he believed in making the woman happy. So he stared her down the entire time thinking about how thick her eye makeup was.  It was distracting as hell, but gave him something to focus on while trying to think of cute pet names during sex. After all he was there for her pleasure.
Honestly, Freddie didn’t know what he wanted in a woman, but he always chased easy prey. Woman that wanted him and were ready to spread their legs for the man in uniform. Women that didn’t want anything more than a night with Freddie ‘The Animal’ Turner. He had earned a reputation around town as the man to call when you needed your toes curled, no strings attached. Fat, skinny, short, tall, Black, White, single, married, he did not care. He enjoyed all of their company in many different ways. And he hated sleeping alone. Though most were gone before sunrise.
The ladies may call him an ‘animal’, but he preferred to be called a Gentleman Lover. He made them all feel wanted and loved one hour at a time. Women like Heather and Christie appreciated his services and went home happy. All smiles back home to their boyfriends and husbands afterward.
Freddie was use to being alone and didn’t mind the solitude, as long as there were beautiful women soaking his bed sheets on a regular basis. Being a wolf, he had to be careful and vow never to settle down. There was no romantic future being a Lycan. It was too dangerous and selfish.
“You look like you’re having a bad day.” A female voice with a hint of a Latin accent said from behind.
Freddie turned to see a tall brunette taking a seat next to him. He had never seen her before but people traveled through Honeybee all the time, newcomers were nothing new. What he took notice of were her thick toned legs in a short red mini skirt and perky C cup tits in a tight black Vneck blouse and smokey brown eyes.
“You can say that.”
“Shame. The day is still young, things just might get better.” She said with a gorgeous suggestive smile.
Being the sexually hungry man that he was Freddie’s response was, “Maybe so, can I buy you a drink...miss?” flashing a smile of his own.
“Veronica Lopez.”
“Hello Miss Lopez.”