Page 11 of The Good Boys Club

I enjoyed this period. Mostly because Mash hated Harvest Fest and did everything in his power to stay in Remy.

Pretty sure there was nothing that could convince him to return to Howling Pines for ten weeks.

Knot So Fast, Buddy

Present Day

Mash

Igot the letter this morning. Not printed, but scribed. On heavy-duty, fancy-pants cream paper with a wax seal. Alpha liked the theatrics and the “traditional” values of a hand-written, hand-delivered letter. In this instance, traditional roughly translated to ancient.

My Dearest Mash,

You are cordially invited to join us for Harvest Fest this year. From 16th August until 25th October.

Since you failed to attend the previous nine Harvest Fest celebrations, your presence this year is MANDATORY.

NONNEGOTIABLE.

OR ELSE.

WE WILL SEE YOU THERE.

You may bring a plus one. Please call the pack for approval of your plus one.

Alpha

But because the wolves who handled the everyday logistics of managing the pack—my sisters and brother and brothers-in-law—weren’t crumbling to mushroom fodder, I also received an email at the same time.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Wed, 31stJuly, 11:23 a.m.

Hey Mash,

Alpha asked me to email you. She wants to make sure you’ll be here this year. I don’t think she’ll take no for an answer, so you’d better get your butt up here before she sends one of us to Remy to come fetch you.

She said it’s nearly time.

Anyway, send us a message to confirm. If only to keep her off our backs.

The betas

XOXO

P.S. We all miss you loads.

I stuffed the letter into the butt pocket of my shorts, my phone into the other butt pocket, and thanked the gods I was ridingthe underground trains. No signal down here, so Alpha couldn’t call me. I knew the second I had even the faintest hint of a bar of service, she’d be on that phone haranguing me. I pictured her now, standing at the kitchen counter—the only place in the house to get any signal or Wi-Fi or any connection to the outside world—periodically calling my number, getting more agitated with each unsuccessful dial.

I debated staying on these trains all day, using up all my U-Rail credits, circling Remy’s bowels over and over, just to remain in this little pocket of calm. Perhaps I could toss my phone into the Rafat River.

But I had an appointment to attend. A rather important appointment at uni which couldn’t wait, and could ultimately spell the end of my career. I mean, it was one hundred percent my fault, and I would deal with whatever consequences I’d brought about. Still didn’t mean I was excited for my bollocking.

Sure enough, the second I stepped foot into the city’s suffocating summer air, my phone started ringing. The screen saidAlpha. I let it go to voicemail. Alpha called again. I contemplated stomping my phone to powder. It stopped ringing. A minute later, a text appeared in the preview window.

Alpha:

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