Page 4 of Leave Me (Shift MC #1)
Chapter three
Fowler
Almost everything looked the same as it did ten years ago, though the boat repair place and coffee shop right on the marina were new. My sister had told me when old friends had opened Shipshape and Perk Café, but seeing them in person was different.
What I was waiting to see the most came up fast at the end of Wolf Creek Road.
I paused longer than necessary at the stop sign, taking in my dad’s old shop, Motorvated.
He wanted me to take over, and I had gone to college to become even better at fixing and restoring motorcycles… but I couldn’t process the possibility.
Turning right on the road—paved instead of the dusty gravel I remembered—I easily made my way up the hill. People thought the road was named for the creek on my family’s property, but both the road and creek were named for the secret we’d been keeping for centuries.
We were wolf shifters.
Before I could dwell on how my inner wolf was whining to break free and go for a run, since I hadn’t let it out since the last time I was in Blue Lake, the pack house appeared around the bend at the end of the pavement.
The narrow paths to continue further on the property looked like they were flattened as well, including the walkway to the front door, where my mom had grown flowers around cobblestones.
Cutting my engine, I leaned my bike on the kickstand and took off my helmet, right before a shrill sound assaulted my ears.
Running out of the front door, where I saw a ramp had been built down one side of the stairs, was my baby sister.
Except she wasn’t a little girl anymore.
White-blonde hair was braided down her back, and she was dressed like Daisy Duke in a plaid crop top and cut-off shorts, and I only caught a flash of her blue eyes before she nearly tackled me to the ground.
Squeezing her tight, I saw Gramps wheel out after her.
Merle King looked visibly older, the creases in his face deeper, and his hair gone all white, but I was glad to see a smile on his face.
I hadn’t only run away from my dad when I left town; I’d left the responsibility of caring for Channing and Gramps, too.
Channing punched me in the arm, and I let her go to rub the spot. She was stronger than she looked. “Ow, sis.”
“Hush,” she chided, dusting off my shoulder and touching me all over like she was making sure I was real.
“You saw me last year in the city,” I reminded her. We’d kept in touch by text and video chat, but she’d also come to visit me in San Francisco once she got her license.
“Sure, but that was in December. And you’re really here.” Channing bit her lip and gave a delicate sniff, letting me know I should have come sooner.
“Is that my grandson?” Our grandpa interjected, and Chan stepped aside so I could see him clearly.
Calling me his grandson was new, but Chan told me he would be accepting. Hearing it in person was surreal.
“Hi, Gramps.” I held out my hand for him to shake, not sure how to go about hugging him after so long. “Good to see you’re doing well.”
He took my offering in both of his weathered hands, squeezing and giving me a watery smirk. “Never thought I’d see the day you came home again. You’ve made an old man happy, Fowler.”
Too choked up over Gramps using my chosen name, I didn’t know how to respond, but Channing wasn’t above coughing, “ Told you so, ” while she unclipped the travel bag attached to the saddlebags.
“Come inside.” Gramps let me go and started rolling over the crushed granite path, Channing jumping in to help with the uphill ramp. “Did you ride straight here from the city?”
“Yeah, it’s less than two hours,” I replied, feeling guilty again that they were so close and I’d never visited.
“Hate the city, myself,” Gramps commented, rolling to a stop in the large, open living room. I knew he meant both San Francisco specifically and cities in general, so I didn’t comment.
Looking around the space, I noticed it was more open, the pathways clear for Gramps’ chair, and a few new pieces of furniture.
I loved the pack house when I was a kid.
It was an escape from my dad, and it reminded me of my mom and grandma.
When Grandma died, and Dad took over as Alpha, he moved back in, and the place had liquor bottles everywhere.
Now, everything was clean, and the two-story stacked-stone fireplace was empty, drawing my eyes up the stone structure to the lofted ceiling, white pine beams bisecting the airy space. The place was home, which I felt deep inside as my wolf settled in my mind.
“Let’s get you settled in your room,” Channing declared when I’d been standing and staring around for too long. She was always a hyper child, not able to sit still for long. “It’s been cleared out, of course.”
“See you for dinner, son,” Gramps called out as I followed Chan up the wooden staircase opposite the fireplace. It felt like his repeating words to reaffirm my gender was a bit forced, but I appreciated it all the same .
Following my sister past the empty bunk rooms, I had to wonder how many members the pack had left in town. My mom always said the size of the pack improved the strength and health of them all, and ours had been dwindling for decades. By the time I left town, my dad had scared off most.
My old bedroom was at the end of the hall, and Chan opened the door to reveal a stripped-down version of what it had been.
The hand-carved four-poster bed no longer had the frilly pink canopy or matching bedding, though I’d thrown those out in my teens.
The real draw was the view. My old room looked westward over the treetops to the lake below, the sky a clear blue, though I remembered how the pink at the edges of the sunset would light the sky in shades of red and purple.
“Sheets are clean,” Channing informed me. “Get settled, because your friends want to see you.”
“Which friends?” I whipped my head from the view to see my sister tossing my bag onto the antique chest at the end of the bed. “How does anyone know I’m here, Chan?”
Channing matched my raised eyebrows and crossed arms. “Because I told them.”
Sighing, I should have seen it coming. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see my old friends. They were good guys. I just felt bad about leaving and not staying in touch. Everything about coming home made me feel like a shitty person.
“Fine.” I dropped my arms and turned back to the view.
“Dinner was ready an hour ago,” Channing called over her shoulder, “so come eat before those knuckleheads get here and drag you out to the bonfire.”