Page 284 of Secret Shifters Next Door

“I’ll have think about it.” I wasn’t sure how much abuse I could take from Blayne, and I already had enough on my plate with my dad’s cancer.

“I’m sorry this happened to you. Blayne really is a great guy. His head is just still messed up from losing his brother.”

“Right. Thanks, Tate. I need to go. Tell April I said bye.”

“Okay. Take it easy.”

I let Tate’s words mingle in my mind as I headed to the grocery store. Blayne had no food. It would be my good deed for the day to get him some food. Then he wouldn’t die of starvation at least.

I zoned out on the drive, thinking over everything Tate had said. Could I really do what he said? Blayne had made it clear he’d rather walk barefoot through hell than have me around. Why should I put myself through that?

I bought a big stack of frozen microwave meals, some cheese, crackers and chips, and some fresh fruit. In his state, he probably wouldn’t want to cook. Everything I bought required no cooking. Not entirely healthy, but he needed something. At the end of the shelf, I noticed a big pack of Oreo cookies. I froze as a memory from years ago rushed back. Liam and I had been cuddled up on a couch watching a movie, but doing more talking than watching.

Liam had told me how much he and Blayne loved Oreos. They hadn’t had a lot of money growing up, and their parents only bought the cookies once or twice a year. As much as Liam loved the cookies, he always made sure Blayne got most of them. Blayne would sometimes question how many Liam had eaten, thinking his brother hadn’t gotten his fair share. Liam had always lied to Blayne and said he’d had just the same amount—all to make sure his brother was taken care of and happy. It had been a small kindness, but to a boy who had little, it was a huge sacrifice. And Liam would have sacrificed everything for his brother.

Another memory, this one darker and more horrific. Uncle Luis dragging Liam’s bloodied and dying body through the front door. Liam gasping, blood bubbling out of his lips. He clutched Luis and made sure he knew that he didn’t want Blayne to blame me for what was happening. Then he reached out a hand to me, grabbing my arm in a vice-like grip. The last words he ever said to me came in a rasping gurgle.“Take care of Blayne. Take care of my brother.”The light died in Liam’s eyes. The last thing he asked for on this earth was for me to take care of his brother.

By the time the mental movie was done playing in my mind, I was sobbing in front of the cookies. Tears streaked down my cheeks, and my chest ached. I grabbed a pack of Oreos and put them in the cart. Liam had died asking for me to take care of his brother.

“I promise, Liam. I’ll do whatever I need to do,” I whispered, hoping that wherever he was, he could hear me.

ELEVEN

BLAYNE

I had no clue how long I’d been asleep. It had to have been a while, though, because when I opened my eyes, my body and mind were more rested than I’d felt in days. Sunlight streamed through the window. From the look of it, the sun was high in the sky, which meant it was probably around lunch time. Five or six straight hours of sleep? No wonder I felt good.

The next thing I noticed was the smell of food cooking. My stomach clenched and saliva squirted into my mouth, making my jaw cramp. I was starving, but who the hell was in my house? My sleep-dazed mind tried to think, and it took a moment for me to remember that Ava had been here. She’d sent me to bed like I was some misbehaving toddler. I sat up in bed and crossed my arms. Maybe I’d stay here and pretend to be asleep until she left.

I was disgusted with myself. Was I seriously contemplating that? Was I a child? What the hell was wrong with me? Jesus. I couldn’t sit here acting like a spoiled brat throwing a tantrum. It made me look ridiculous.

Scolding myself, I got dressed before leaving my bedroom. As I neared the kitchen, my hunger pangs became more pronounced. Whatever she was cooking smelled amazing. Ihadn’t had an appetite in almost a week, and my body was in dire need of sustenance.

Ava stood at the stove, stirring something in a big pot with a wooden spoon. I could also smell bread of some kind being baked.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Ava spun around, surprised by my presence. “Oh, hey. Go ahead and sit down. The stew’s ready and the corn muffins will be done in a second.”

I looked from Ava to the kitchen table and back to her. I wanted nothing more than to have a bowl of the stew that smelled so delicious, but my pride was still too stubborn. “You know you’re not my mother, right?” I said with a raised eyebrow.

Ava turned back to me and gave me the exact sort of look a mother would give a back-talking child. “Sit,” she said, pointing at a chair with the spoon. A drop of the stew fell from the spoon and hit the floor with aplop.

Raising my hands in surrender, I sat down and watched her. My panther was wary, watching her even closer than I was. Her being here had a strange effect on it. On one hand, seeing her here and knowing that she’d rejected us filled my panther—and me by association—with a devastated longing. I ignored that, but my panther couldn’t. On the other hand, watching her in the kitchen and knowing she was nearby seemed to make things seem less awful. Less painful. That irritated me and confused my panther.

Ava pulled the pan of muffins from the oven, and my stomach cramped so hard, I thought I’d fall to the floor. I hadn’t realized I was so hungry. She set three of the muffins on a plate, with three massive pats of butter on top. Next, she put a heaping bowl of stew on the same plate and sat it in front of me.

“It’s supposed to be my mom’s chicken stew. If you do it the right way, it takes, like, eight hours. It’s pretty close, though.”

The food she’d put in front of me looked amazing. I didn’t think her mother could have made anything that looked half this good. The first spoonful hit my tongue and I moaned, literally moaned, in pleasure.

“Holy shit,” I mumbled through a full mouth, and popped an entire muffin past my lips.

“I take that to mean I did good?” Ava asked.

Nodding, I shoveled more food into my mouth. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had made me a home-cooked meal. Sure, I’d had meals Harley or Celina had cooked when I had dinner at their homes, but to have someone makemesomething? It had been years. Before I realized it, the bowl was empty, but Ava replaced it with a second steaming bowl before I even had a chance to ask. That helping took longer for me to finish, but eventually that bowl was also empty. I used the last muffin to wipe the remaining sauce from the bowl and popped it into my mouth.

My stomach was satisfied for the first time in days, and it allowed me to think clearly. Without the specter of hunger that had been driving me, I was able to question why Ava was here.

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