Page 10 of Cold Foot Croc (Wreck’s Mountains #3)

Today was probably the day Garret was going to die.

The music in his truck cut off, and he looked down at his phone screen to see Dylan was calling. He answered the call and said, “Hey man, can I call you back?”

“Sure, as soon as you tell me why you’re in Cold Foot territory.”

“What? How do you know that?”

“I put an Apple AirTag in your glove box, you fuckin’ foreskin. Now turn around and come back to town.”

Garret eerked to a stop and yanked open the glove box, and sure enough, there was a little round disk sitting in there. “What is wrong with you?”

“You mean what is right with me? A lot. Turn around.”

“I have business.”

“Girls are not business, Gar. Girls are fun distractions, but you are not ready for any of this yet.”

Anger flashed through him. “I’m ready for whatever I think I’m ready for. Mind your own business, Dylan. It’s too much.”

“Think this through! You’re going into the territory of the phoenix after Damon Daye already lit you up, and after you promised him you would stay away from them.”

He hated when his brother made good points. He wished Dylan was born dumber sometimes. “I’ll call you when I get back. We’ll go get a beer or something.”

“Garret Emerson Hoffm—”

Click. He hung up before Dylan could get the rest of his name out. Only Mom was allowed to get him in trouble with his whole name.

A text came through, and his phone automatically started reading it through his speaker system without him even pushing a button.

“Dylan says ‘Survival is awesome.’”

“Oh my gah! How do I turn this off,” he muttered, poking around on the phone screen.

“Dylan says ‘You are going to throw away everything we have built here—’”

Garret unplugged the phone from the aux cord. There.

“…‘and then you’re going to die a horrible death, and then be barbecued by the phoenix and served up on a platter for the other shifters there to eat, including YOUR MAN-EATING GIRLFRIEND. ’” Okay, the robot voice didn’t need to yell like that.

He turned his phone off completely. Double there.

Maybe Dylan was right. Maybe he was about to croak under the fire of the phoenix, but Wreck had brought him back to life last time, and when he’d met the Cold Foot Crew the night he’d died, they had been stressed and in crisis mode, yes, but they hadn’t been horrible to him.

He had to believe that they had good sides, just like he had a good side. Just like Raynah had a very good side.

Why was he headed straight for the heart of Cold Foot territory? Because this morning, before Raynah had dropped him off at his house after camping, she’d mentioned her baby shower again, and had seemed bummed that Garret wouldn’t be able to make it. The only one in this world who could change that for Raynah, was him. And also Wreck.

He probably could’ve tracked down his phone number, but he’d been raised to face things head-on. In-person was always better if a man needed to speak his mind, in his opinion.

He hadn’t known an exact address for the cluster of cabins the Cold Foot Crew dwelled in, but a simple roll-down of the window and he could smell his way to them just fine.

Wreck probably smelled normal to most people, but to Garret, who had been revived by his fire once, there was this metallic-smoke scent in the air that would probably always haunt him. The closer he got to the phoenix, the stronger the smoke.

He rested his forearm on the open window frame, and cracked the knuckles on that hand as he looked up at the enormous snowy owl that drifted on air currents above him. He’d been there on the night Garret had died. Cash, he thought his name was.

The bird was so big, he could probably swoop down and pick up Garret’s truck if he wanted to. He didn’t seem inclined though, and disappeared over the trees.

Over the last ridge, there was a clearing with a half-circle of loosely spread out, A-frame log cabins, each with shingles on the front painted in different colors. He hadn’t a guess which one was Raynah’s, but he knew which one was Wreck’s. How? Because the Alpha of the Cold Foot Crew stood on the front porch of the cabin on the very left. His arms were locked on the porch railing, and he had his eyes narrowed on him as Garret parked in front of it.

“What are you doing in my territory, bear?” Wreck asked.

Garret held his hand up out the window in a peaceful gesture. “I’m not here for any trouble.”

Wreck stood to his full height and crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you here about?”

“Raynah.”

“She isn’t here.”

“I know. She’s at work for another couple of hours. I wanted to talk to you alone. Man to man.”

Wreck’s eyes had flames in them, and Garret would be lying if he said the fine hairs on his body weren’t all standing up right now.

“Come in,” he said at last.

“I appreciate it,” Garret said, pushing his door open. He jogged up the porch stairs and stomped the snow off his boots on the mat in front of the door as Wreck held it open, waiting.

The metallic-smoke smell nearly choked him as he walked past, but he figured out it was mostly mental. He could still breathe if he just told himself to.

“Beer?” Wreck asked, heading to the fridge across the room in a kitchen that was attached to the open living room.

“Sure, thanks. This place is nice,” he complimented him.

Wreck grunted and pulled out a pair of beer cans from the fridge, then tossed him one.

Garret popped the top and took a sip.

“Sit,” Wreck said, gesturing to a chair at the dining table.

“Thanks,” he murmured, taking the seat.

“Are you nervous? You feel nervous.”

“Is it that obvious?”

Wreck took a seat across the table from him. “Not to a normie. I brought you back from death though. We built a bond together, you and me.”

Garret frowned. “What kind of bond?”

“One where I could tell you were headed here half an hour before I saw your truck pull through the trees. I have it with King, too. It’s different than the bond I have with the Crew.”

Huh. Garret leaned his elbows onto the table and spun the beer slowly between his fingers. “Raynah’s got a baby shower coming up tomorrow. She gave me an invite, and she’s mentioned it a couple times.”

“Are you the one the Crew has been talking about?”

Garret shook his head, confused.

“Raynah mentioned a guy to Cash, and he has everyone guessing. Sasha guessed you. She saw some sparks the night…well, you remember.”

“Chhh. It’s burned into my memory.”

“Headaches?” Wreck guessed.

“I thought I was re-dying for two weeks afterward. I couldn’t work or anything.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the thing about having the ability to bring people back from the dead. It’s not supposed to be a pleasant experience.”

“Does it hurt you?” he asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

“Very much.”

Garret nodded. “I really don’t want any trouble. I like my life. I have my support system, I have my home, I have my job. I’ve got something starting with Raynah. I don’t want to step on your territory lines, and I definitely don’t want calls from Damon Daye. But I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind me coming to her baby shower? She seems to want me there, and I don’t like the idea of letting her down.”

Wreck was quiet for a minute, with a thoughtful look in his fiery eyes. “Does she talk to you about what she’s going through?”

Garret nodded once.

“About what she’s been through?”

Another nod.

“Anything I need to know?”

“She isn’t talking to you?”

Wreck puffed air out of his cheeks and took a drink of his beer. “She’s a tough nut to crack.”

“Just be patient with her. There’s a lot going on in her head. She’ll come around. It’s not you. I don’t know if that helps or hurts, but you should know it’s not you. It’s not any of you.”

“It helps,” Wreck murmured. “You can come to the baby shower. None of my Crew will mess with you. Well, they’ll probably give you a bunch of shit, but that just comes with the territory. They won’t physically fight you. Probably.”

He snorted. “I appreciate it.”

Wreck took another drink. “Who Turned you?”

It was the first off-subject question of many, and over the next hour, he learned that the Alpha of the Cold Foot Crew had a heart. He was smart, and cared about his people, and had a genuine curiosity about the characters in the world around him. Not once did Garret feel like Wreck was just goading him for information to use against him later. It was just easy conversation. He was surprised in a good way.

“That took some nuts, man,” Wreck said as Garret said his goodbyes later on.

“What did?”

“Coming up here to my territory to talk to me with no backup.”

“Who said I didn’t have backup?” he teased. “My brother put an Apple AirTag in my truck. If I don’t come back down this mountain tonight, he would probably have a dozen of his roughneck friends up here with an arsenal.”

“They would die,” Wreck said with a chuckle.

“I didn’t say it was a smart idea,” Garret joked. “Us Hoffmans have been known for our bad ideas from time to time.”

Wreck snorted. “Don’t hurt her, okay?”

“Hurt Raynah?”

“Yeah.”

Garret pursed his lips against a smile and opened his truck door. Out the open window he said, “I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I know you know what I mean.”

When he looked in his rearview on the way out of the clearing, Wreck was still standing on his porch, watching him leave.

The phoenix was an absolute weapon, and could probably cause an apocalypse without too much effort, but to Garret, he didn’t seem half-bad.