Things would be so much simpler if we were all just comfortable in our own skin, at ease with where we are in the world.
Nash’s posture is relaxed as he leans over the little railing on the small front porch. Gram definitely knew what she was doing when she picked this spot. The cabin is in the center of a small clearing and although she hasn’t used the cabin very much in recent years, it’s still in damn good condition.
I look out over the little yard. I don’t notice any rabbits wandering close to the cabin, and I have to chuckle. Guess they all know there’s a wolf nearby and they should stay clear. Still, the flowers are starting to bloom and the grass is green.
The morning smells like rain, and I wonder what’s going to happen to me.
“Wanna talk about it?”
“There’s not much to say.” I don’t even know where I would begin. Part of me feels like I should yell at Nash for trying to trick me for so long. A pet wolf? Really? But I kinda knew, so I can’t be too pissed about that. Part of me didn’t want to call him out because I liked having someone to talk to who wouldn’t judge me or give me a hard time.
Part of me liked knowing there was someone who would keep me company and keep me safe when I felt scared.
“I thought they were going to kill me.” I words catch in my throat, but I manage to push them out. “I felt helpless, just like when my brother killed my grandmother. I felt stuck. Trapped. No matter how loud I screamed or how far I ran, it just didn’t matter. They still found me.”
The tears are falling freely, but Nash just rubs my back softly. He lets me speak. He lets me get it all out.
“I’ve never had a friend like you. You’re so comfortable with who you are. I thought you were a shifter. I knew it, if I’m honest with myself, but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to ruin one more good thing in my life. I just wanted to be with you, to have you near me.”
“To be honest, I’m a little surprised you weren’t more freaked out about the whole shifter thing.”
“Why? Humans know about shifters. Yeah, you guys are rare, but…” I shrug. “You aren’t a secret.”
“Your brother is a shifter,” he says it with conviction. He knows. I don’t have to tell him.
“Yeah. I’ve known for a long time. He started shifting as a teenager and just never stopped. He always thought it made him invincible, I guess. Most shifters want to hide their identity, to kind of make it through each day without drawing a lot of attention to themselves, yeah? Not Jeffrey. That was never his style. He always had big dreams and if using people or his shifter status was the way to get what he wanted, so be it. He never cared.”
“I know him.”
I whirl my head around and my jaw drops. Nash knows Jeffrey? How? My eyes search his face, but all I see is sadness and pain. What happened to Nash to make him this way? What secrets is he holding?
We all have them: secrets. We all have these wounds that are too deep to be stitched, these horrors that are too great to think of in the daylight. We all have pain and agony racing through our veins, but I have a feeling Nash’s are worst than most.
“How?” I finally manage to ask. A million thoughts race through my head, but they all center on one thing: Jeffrey has hurt Nash. He’s hurt him deeply. I can see it in his eyes. Those beautiful, deep eyes are wounded, pained, broken. Something happened to Nash that was so horrible he can’t even bear to think about it, and I have a feeling he’s about to start spilling his guts.
Part of me doesn’t want to know.
Part of me wants to think that if I ignore this, it’ll all just be a bad dream. I’ll wake up tomorrow and go to work, put on my suit dress and my happy face, have an ordinary lunch, and meet my grandma for afternoon tea.
Part of me thinks that if I don’t let Nash tell me his story, I won’t have to admit that my brother is one fucked up son of a bitch.
Part of me believes this just can’t be real.
There are a lot of messed up things in the world, but this? This tops them all. A rogue shifter brother who murdered my grandmother for money and who will kill me to get to the cash? How could something like this happen?
We had the same parents, so why did Jeffrey turn out so evil and I turn out so ordinary?
That’s what I am. In a nutshell, I am normal.
Average.
Plain.
I have plain hair and a plain face and I had a plain childhood.
I didn’t have any weird trauma to mess with my head or make me insane. I didn’t have any strange loss that could explain why I have such a sense of urgency and normalcy. Yeah, my parents died, but not until I was older. Not until I was old enough to cope with that in a very adult fashion.
But Nash?