This story contains both m/m and m/f relationships and sex scenes -- more m/m, particularly at the start.
This is one of three shorter and inter-related stories I'm writing following up different characters from Friends and Foes, but if you haven't read that story I hope I have written it so you can still get into this one.
If you are familiar with my other nonhuman stories, this one involves Tilly, Dill, Sam and Tom, and starts with the other side of a scene at the beginning of Chapter 9 where the Were commando unit stops a truck carrying some unconscious Weres, and threatens the unsuspecting driver...
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Jon sat very quietly in the car, trying to make some sense of what had just happened, but it didn't. He pinched himself hard, but all that caused was pain and he had to accept that he was not dreaming, glancing across at the man driving him and wondering what on earth he was going to do now.
The day had started out odd, come to think of it. He drove for a living when not at university, earning good money easily and without any great hassle. In fact a couple of years of driving had allowed him to afford going to study in the first place. It was enjoyable work and didn't tax his brain, perfect for getting a break from studying, and he was on the books of a couple of agencies that would find him work when he was able to do it. An early morning call saying they had received an urgent job was not unusual, but it had gone downhill from there...
"What do you mean there's no delivery address?" he asked the man in the office.
"You'll get a call to tell you where to do the drop off when you're on your way. Don't ask me, I know it's unusual, but they are paying a lot of money for this secrecy."
"What's in the truck?" Jon asked, not liking the sound of this already.
"Dunno. It's sealed. Nothing valuable or dangerous I was told."
"How about illegal?"
He got a sharp look then, and really didn't like the way this was going.
"You're getting paid extra not to ask. They said it isn't anything that will get you into trouble."
"That sounds like famous last words. Where am I heading then, if I don't have an address?"
Okay, so it might not have been the brightest idea to agree to it, with hindsight, but then he couldn't possibly have expected anything much to happen. Besides which, the extra money was a serious draw, and he couldn't really afford to turn it down. So he took the vague instructions, got in the truck, and drove.
Three hours later, still driving, and still no phone call, he had started to get bored waiting, and was getting more and more concerned about what he was doing. What if there was no call? How would he explain not knowing what he was carrying or where he was going if anyone official asked?
He'd decided to pull over and put a call into the office to check up, and was looking out for the next lay-by. There hadn't been much other traffic around for a while, so he noticed the black 4x4 heading in the other direction, and maybe he'd spotted the similar vehicle behind him, but everything else had happened so fast he couldn't now be sure.
The car slewed across the road right in front of him and he slammed on the brakes, turning the steering wheel to avoid a collision, and screeching to a halt not far from the vehicle, wondering what the hell the other driver was thinking. As a group of burly men spilled out of the car he decided he didn't care and went to reverse, only then noticing the same thing was happening behind him.
He was panicking now, as a lot of hefty and angry looking men came towards him. A moment too late he had the thought to lock the door, but before he could do it he had been pulled out of the cab and was pinned to the side of the truck. Jon was pretty sure he'd never been more scared, because even if he could get away from this guy there were more than half a dozen other guys looking just as menacing behind him. The question, one that Jon didn't understand, was growled at him, low and threatening.
"Where are they?"
"I don't know what you mean," he stammered out in reply.
Some of the men moved then, and he knew from the sounds he could hear that they were breaking open the back of the truck. He could only pray that whatever was in there really wouldn't get him into trouble. Or perhaps he should just be hoping it wasn't any more trouble than he was apparently already in. When the guys around him started to look even more pissed off he didn't think there was much hope, and when he was pinned even harder to the van and threatened he wondered how the hell he was going to get out of this.
He'd found an unusual saviour in the woman, who he hadn't even noticed up until that point, but then she was a hell of a lot less scary than any of the guys that had been taking his attention. She even got the man off him, and her soft voice was a relief, not that he could let his guard down too much. Her questions were less demanding, and he did his best to answer, trying to calm himself as she seemed his only hope of getting out of this without being beaten up.
It went very quiet after he told her his concerns about what was in the van. Even though she had turned her back to him he didn't dare move, sure any movement would draw the attention back to him. When they started to leave he let out the breath he had been holding, but the woman stayed with two young men who he was pretty sure could beat him to a pulp if they wanted to. She looked back to him and he wondered what was going to happen now.
"Is there someone you can call to come get you? We'll be keeping the van."
"You can't. It's not mine."
When she reached out to grab his arm he tried to pull away, but her grip was firm. At least it wasn't painful like the one around his throat had been. He didn't really want to look in the back, but she took him there anyway, and when he saw what was in there he was shocked. Of all the things he had considered, people were not on his list. Especially not unconscious ones strapped down to trolleys. They should be in an ambulance, not the back of a truck.
He didn't argue when she told him again she would be keeping the truck, and since it came accompanied by a veiled threat to call the police it was much easier to go along with what she was telling him to do. Call someone to get him, save him from his point of view, and only one person sprang to mind. He just hoped he would be there.
"Ross, thank god. Please can you come pick me up. Now."
"Are you okay? You sound weird," Ross replied.
"I'm fine, honestly, but I need a lift like right now. Please."
"Okay, where are you?"
He reeled off some directions, trying not to say anything about what was going on but hoping his tone would convince Ross of the urgency of his request. He knew he could rely on him for help, he just kept wishing he could ask him for a lot more. He'd happily offer Ross anything, but he was sure he wouldn't be interested. He was just glad he had him as a friend, and he tried not to let his other feelings about the gorgeous man show when they were together.