Page 62 of Fastlander Phoenix

“And Tabitha,” Brandon’s lady blurted out.

“And Tabitha,” Gale agreed.

Timber’s eyes were rimming with tears, and it did something awful to Wreck’s insides. These people didn’t deserve her. He was going to make sure she knew how worthy of love she was after tonight. He didn’t know how he was going to do it, but he was going to help her undo the damage and move forward.

Everyone had gone dead silent. The Fastlanders looked disgusted, and Wreck had no words he wanted to give that awful woman. It was Sasha who spoke. She had tears rimming her eyes now too, and she was staring at her mother in horror. “I get it now,” she murmured.

“Get what?” her mother asked.

“I get why Timber is happier away from us. I had it in my head that if she just showed up to a family event, and we all had some drinks, and we talked it out, that things would get better, but now? My mind is changed. Timber really doesn’t deserve any of this. So many things are clicking into place for me now. I can’t even imagine how I would feel if you had pushed me out like this, and chosen others. I watched how differently you treated her over the years, but I listened to you. I believed you when you explained your actions and blamed Timber for being too abrasive and argumentative, but you know? Now that I’m thinking about it, she’s never done that with me. She’s never been cornered or been forced to either post up, or cease to exist. She’s only kind with me, and understanding, and you know what I’m realizing? She never talks shit about y’all. She understands my need to still be a part of the family, and she doesn’t make me choose, but you guys? You talk about her all the time. You say it’s more peaceful without her, but she’s still present at every family event. You talk horribly about her. You blame her. You paint her as this villain, when she stepped back and isn’t even fighting with you.” Her lip quivered, but she looked angry now. “It’s messed up, Mom. You should’ve been understanding about her feelings when Marissa showed up. You should’ve kicked Brandon’s ass to the curb when you found out he cheated on your daughter, not bring him in closer and show more care to his new girlfriend than to your own flesh-and-blood daughter. It’s all messed up.”

“You sound like Timber now,” her mom gritted out, her eyes narrowed in anger.

“Good. I would rather sound like her than you.” Sasha turned to the Fastlanders. “Y’all are welcome to stay if you want. These people will talk shit about you all night and stare at you. They’ll have a few drinks and start popping off at you, pushing your buttons, throwing insults at anything Timber likes, which isclearly you guys. Or I can take you to a bar down the street that has a way better atmosphere.”

“You’re leaving? Are you being serious right now?” her mother asked. “Your father and I put a lot of effort into planning this.”

“Oh hell yeah. I’m out,” Sasha said. “I should’ve been out a long time ago. When you guys grow up, check yourselves, and make apologies for the absolute dumpster-family you have been, give me and Timber a call. Or don’t. Stick with Brandon and his third girlfriend in six months. And Marissa, who joins in on shit-talk about a person she barely knows just to fit in and keep her place in a family she didn’t even grow up in. Gross.” Sasha backed away from her mom, looking absolutely disgusted. “See you when I see you.”

“Do you even work anymore?” her mother snapped at Timber, who was just observing quietly. “Huh, Timber? Or are you wasting all of the money we spent on your college education to hang out with shifters?”

And Wreck could see it. He could see the weakness in her mother. Sasha had put her in her place, so she would target the quiet one to feel powerful again. He could imagine just how Timber’s life had been. It was an awful thing to be the scapegoat of a family.

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” Corey pointed out. “Why would she quit her badass job just to go barhopping with us? She’s still a badass,Gale.”

Wreck could feel the irritation from all the Fastlander women, and he bit back a smile. Gale was going to be Gale-the-Impaled if she didn’t shut up, and fast.

“Here you go,” Wreck said, handing her the expensive whiskey he’d ordered her. He’d heated it up to boiling, and it brought him a sense of deep joy as she grabbed it, yelped, anddropped the burning amber liquor. The glass shattered on the floor.

Gale looked up at him, a trickle of fear in her eyes as she clutched her burned hand. Good. Wreck stepped closer so she could feel the waves of heat roiling off him. He allowed the flames to show in his eyes, and the devil himself to show in his smile. “Now I understand. Thank yousomuch for explaining your side of the story.”

“Monster,” she uttered.

He wanted to light her on fire for the tears she’d caused in Timber’s eyes, but a warm hand slipped into his, and green flames engulfed his arm. Timber’s touch calmed him.

Gale stumbled backward with Brandon, Tabitha, and Marissa. The crowd at the back gasped, and a couple of people screamed.

“I’m happy, Mom,” Timber murmured, paying no attention to the fire that was traveling up her arm inch by inch. “I hope someday you are happy, too.”

Sasha was holding the exit door open for them. The Fastlanders finished their drinks and headed for it. Corey pulled Timber toward it by the hand, and gave Gale a dirty look as she put her arm around Timber’s shoulders. Wreck hung back with Gunner, the flames on his arm fading to nothing. He stared at Gale as she made her way back to the others. Gunner clapped him on the back, then flinched back hard.

“Motherfucker,” Gunner gritted out as he stared at his blistered hand.

“Well, don’t touch me,” Wreck muttered.

“Timber can touch you just fine. Damn, that hurts,” he said, waving his hand like awhooshof cool air would take the intensity away. It wouldn’t.

Wreck smiled to himself and gestured to the door. “After you, Alpha.”

“Is this going to scar my hand?” he demanded.

“I don’t know. Make your animal heal it.”

“It’s not getting any better!”

“Well, I didn’t invite you to go bro-clapping me on the back,” he argued half-heartedly as they left the bar together.

“Bro-clapping? I was trying to be supportive.”

---