AVERY

“ M om, are you gonna tell me who that woman was?” Ashton asked as we pulled out of the grocery store parking lot.

“Not right now, Ash.” It was all I could do to keep my emotions in check, much less try to explain to him that he’d met his aunt for the first time in his life.

Thankfully, he dropped it and slipped into that typical, sullen teenage silence. It left me to stew in my own anger the entire ride home. Once I parked the car in the garage, he grabbed a few bags and stomped inside, leaving me to grab the last few things.

“Great,” I muttered to myself as I closed the back hatch of the SUV. “Really fucking great.” Now my son was pissed off. All because I was hiding things from him. We’d been back in town for less than two hours, and I was regretting it already.

In the kitchen, the bags of groceries sat on the counter.

Ashton had already retreated to his room.

Part of me wanted to go in there and tell him to get his butt out here to help me put away the food.

The more rational part of me knew he was going through a lot—more than I could even imagine.

With his first shift rapidly approaching, his hormones were going haywire.

It wasn’t his fault he was moodier than usual. I’d uprooted his whole life.

I sighed and went about unpacking the bags. As I grabbed a jar of pasta sauce to put in the pantry, the glass slipped in my hand. The jar spun out of my grasp and tumbled through the air, then shattered on the tile, sending red tomato sauce all over the place.

“ Fuck ,” I hissed, throwing my head back in exasperated defeat. This day was not getting any better.

Thankfully, we’d bought paper towels. I tore the package open and started cleaning the mess.

At least the jar had broken into large enough pieces that I could easily pick up.

After tossing those out, I wiped up all the sauce I could and dumped the sodden towels in the trash can.

My hands were covered in sauce, and I used my elbow to turn the faucet on.

No water. Still no goddamn water?

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I growled.

I used more towels to clean off my fingers before getting my phone and dialing the water company again.

“Good afternoon, this is?—”

“Why is my water not turned on yet?” I said, trying hard to keep my voice even but failing. “You told me someone would be here, and they haven’t come yet. I still have no water .”

“Oh, goodness, is this the house on Briarcliff Road? You called earlier?” the woman asked.

Unclenching my teeth, I said, “Yes. Can you please tell me when they are coming? And I expect some sort of discount for the trouble. I can’t wash my hands, I can’t flush the toilet, do laundry. I need a time frame, please.”

“I am so sorry. I’m not sure what’s happened.

The owner of the company was made aware of this.

I’m looking at the assignment schedule right now.

I have no clue why this happened. I’m so sorry about this.

I will put a note on your account. We’ll go ahead and do a twenty-five percent discount for the first thirty days. How does that sound?”

That relieved some of my rage. This wasn’t her fault. It sounded like whoever this owner was needed their ass chewed out.

“Fine, that works. Can you call them and tell them to hurry?”

“He should be there in an hour or less, I promise. I’m going to call him right now.”

“Thank you.”

I ended the call and immediately called Stormy. I had no one else I could talk to, and if I didn’t talk to someone , I was afraid I’d start crying.

She answered on the third ring. “Hello, beautiful. Have you arrived in the bustling metropolis of Harbor Mills yet?”

“Hey, Stormy. We got in a couple of hours ago, but it’s not been great.”

I proceeded to tell her about the water, running into Farrah Garrett, and then the second water issue. By the time I was done, I was ready to take a nap.

“Why don’t you guys come over here? You have my address. You can use the shower to get the road-trip grime off yourselves. Shiloh would love to see you both, and so would I.”

I was too emotionally exhausted to argue. “Okay. That sounds great. I’ll grab Ash and come over.”

“Perfect. I’ll make you guys some lunch. I’m sure you’re starving after such a long trip.”

I thanked her, then walked down the hall and knocked on Ashton’s door.

“Sweetie?”

“What?” he called through the door.

“The, uh, the water still isn’t working. They have a guy on the way. Aunt Stormy said we could go to her house to shower and freshen up. She’s making lunch, too. Do you want to go?”

The door swung open, and Ashton was out in the hall in a second, practically hurrying to the garage. “Yeah. Let’s go. I’m starving.”

It looked like the cure for a sullen teenage boy was the promise of food. By the time I grabbed my purse and phone, he was already in the car and buckled up.

“Feeling better?” I asked as I climbed in behind the wheel.

“I guess. Are you gonna tell me about that woman in the grocery store or not? Is she related to my grandfather?”

“She is,” I admitted, too tired to keep evading his questions.

“Is she like a cousin or aunt or something?” The tone of his voice changed, growing more intrigued and excited as he spoke.

“Can I make you a deal?” I asked as we drove.

“I guess,” he said, sounding dubious.

“I promise I’ll tell you everything you need to know, but can I have one day to get settled? Just one day. That’s all I ask. Once I’ve gotten a good night’s sleep and don’t feel like a wrung-out dishrag, I’ll answer all your questions. Can I have that? You’ve waited this long. What’s one more day?”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek, then nodded, though he looked less than enthused.

“Okay,” he muttered. “Tomorrow?”

“I promise. Tomorrow. Maybe we’ll even try to introduce you to your grandfather tomorrow as well.”

He smiled sadly. “Yeah. Cool.”

I had to force myself not to let out a sigh of relief. There was only so much drama I could handle in one day. Ashton being mature enough to keep his questions in check was impressive, and it made me proud of him. If there was one thing I’d done right in my life, it was raising such a great kid.

Stormy only lived four miles away from Grandma’s old house, and we arrived in less than five minutes.

She must have been watching for us because she came running out of the house, waving at us as she bounced Shiloh on her hip.

Shiloh looked as excited as her mom, waving her little hand wildly to mimic Stormy.

When she saw Ashton, she let out a squeal of delight.

“Hey, little bitty,” Ashton said as he got out of the car and rushed over. He hugged Stormy and took Shiloh from her, hugging the baby. Shiloh grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged at it, drawing a laugh from Ashton.

“Come on in,” Stormy said. “I’m making sandwiches. You can help.”

Inside, I began to relax. Something about being in a home that was lived in had a calming effect on me.

Grandma’s house held nostalgia, but after being empty for fifteen years, it had a sterility to it that would eventually go away the longer we were there.

Here, in Stormy’s house? There was life here—toys strewn across the floor, a cartoon playing on the television, food out on the counter, and dirty dishes in the sink.

It was all I wanted, and hopefully I’d have it once we made the house a home.

Ashton took Shiloh into the living room to play with her, leaving Stormy and me to talk in the kitchen undisturbed.

“Where’s Liz?” I asked. The house actually belonged to Stormy’s mother.

“Mom’s taking a shower,” Stormy said. “She’ll be down in a few minutes. Here, you chop the lettuce.”

“Are you two settled yet?” I asked, taking the knife and head of lettuce from her.

Stormy shrugged, her mouth twisting into a sad smile. “I guess so. The house is more than big enough. Three bedrooms and three bathrooms. We could stay here for years if we wanted to. Mom would like that. But… God, I miss Clint.” She swallowed a few times and blinked back tears.

Clint and Stormy had been madly in love, and Shiloh was the apple of Clint’s eye from the moment she was born.

It was so fucking unfair that she’d only had her father in her life for six months.

The biggest heartbreak was the fact that Shiloh would never remember him.

She’d only know her father through pictures and videos.

It almost made me cry, so I could hardly imagine Stormy’s heartache.

Once she had herself under control, she began placing slices of meat and cheese on the bread.

“So you saw Farrah?” she asked. “How’d that go? Give me more details.”

“She basically acted like I was some sort of criminal for coming back. She looked, like, really freaked out about it. God, you should have seen her face when she saw Ashton. Looked like she’d seen a ghost.”

“That bitch,” Stormy hissed, keeping her voice low so Ashton didn’t hear. “I never liked her after the way she treated you back then. Acting like you were some whore banging every dude in town and didn’t know who’d knocked you up. The fucking nerve of her. I was happy when she left.”

Frowning, I looked up from my cutting board. “Farrah left? I thought it was only Cole?”

Stormy shook her head. “Didn’t I tell you? She left a few months after you did. I didn’t move away until after college, so I saw it all happen. No clue why she’s back in town, though.”

“I know why.”

Liz, Stormy’s mother, walked in, her hair still wet from the shower.

“Why?” Stormy asked. “I’ve only been back a couple weeks. I haven’t had time to ask about the Harbor Mills pack drama. Did Lance Garrett decide to bring her home?”

Liz’s eyes widened. “Oh, God, Stormy. I didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what, Mom?”

“Lance Garrett is dead. That’s why Farrah came home. She’s sorting out the pack stuff now that their alpha is gone.”