“For how long?” Joe asked.
A crack in the wall. “As long as it takes for you to decide to run again.”
It was out before I could stop it.
The four of them looked as if I’d slapped them.
I should have felt better about that.
I didn’t.
“You can go to them,” I said.
And Elizabeth and Mark surged forward, brushing past me to get to their family. Gordo took a step back as Elizabeth grabbed her sons, holding them as close as she could, her arms barely able to reach across all three of them at the same time. She rubbed her face against each of their cheeks, wanting her scent on them and theirs on her. The Alpha in me bristled at the thought of my pack smelling like another, but I pushed it away. It wasn’t about that. Not for her.
Mark ran his hands over their shorn heads, mingling his scent on top of Elizabeth’s.
Carter and Kelly were crying as they clung to their mother.
Mark moved toward Gordo. G
ordo didn’t move. They stood staring at each other, speaking a silent language I wasn’t a part of.
Joe still hadn’t looked away from me, even as his mother held him close.
I said, “Your rooms are still yours. I expect you’ll want to get some rest.”
And because I couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t take his proximity anymore, I walked away.
I CLOSED the door to the old house behind me and sagged against it, trying to breathe.
I hadn’t been in here in the longest time. The house was in my name. Robbie had moved into the main house a while ago, so this one usually sat empty. We kept it, though, in case it was needed. In case we’d needed more room. If the pack expanded. If people came seeking sanctuary.
If others came home.
Elizabeth and the rest of the pack took turns cleaning the house. Made sure it was aired out. While we usually shared responsibilities, this was one thing they wouldn’t let me do. They knew how I felt here. About this place.
Because even though it’d long since been scrubbed away, I knew my mother’s blood had soaked into the bones of the house.
She was everywhere here.
Most of her clothes had been donated after I’d given the okay.
But there was more to her than what she wore.
She was in every corner of this house.
There were soap bubbles on my ear.
She was nervous, because the Bennetts were coming over and they were so fancy.
She signed her name and dissolved her marriage.
She stood with me in the kitchen, asking why I was crying. I told her I couldn’t be crying, because I had to be a man now.
She pointed on a map, showing where my friend had moved, saying no one ever really stayed in Green Creek.
She was my pack. My first pack.