Page 277 of Secret Shifters Next Door

My father was the oldest brother, the one designated by my grandfather to take over the business. He was six-foot-four and had played defensive end and fullback in high school. He’d even been considered for some Division Two and Three colleges before he decided to give up football and focus on academics. Part of his reasoning had been that he didn’t want to wear out his imposing body on a football career that wouldn’t go beyond college. Of all his brothers, he was the biggest and most terrifying to be around. More terrifying when you knew what he was involved in.

After all these years, I still struggled to see my big teddy bear of a father as a crime lord. The one thing that kept me from losing sleep at night from familial guilt was that, for the most part, no innocent people were hurt by my family’s doings. Other than the drugs, which I’d been vocal about for years, especially after what had happened with Liam. Uncle Sam had told me that we were slowly “divesting from that monetary stream.” Fancy talk that meant they were aiming to stop slinging drugs.

Dad looked back up from the table to say something else, but his expression changed when he looked over my shoulder. “Fucking small towns,” he hissed.

I glanced to where his gaze was, and my heart sank. Blayne was getting up from a table. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, then dropped it onto a plate. He tossed a few bills on the table for a tip and headed for the door, glancing around the room as he did. His eyes narrowed into slits when he saw us, but he kept walking past us.

Praying that Dad wouldn’t say anything, I turned back around to stare at my glass of water as if it held all the answers in the universe. Unfortunately, my prayers went unanswered when Dad lifted a hand and waved Blayne down. He put his hand out to shake. “Blayne? How you been, boy?”

I sighed. This wouldn’t go well. Blayne stopped mid-step, looked at my father, then at me, and back at my father. He didn’t show my dad the courtesy of shaking his hand, and dead apathy slanted over his eyes.

Dad, unfazed by Blayne’s disrespect, lowered his hand and smiled. “You don’t look good, boy. Are you all right? Anything I can do for you?”

Blayne sneered and looked up and down at Dad’s slightly withered body. “It looks like you need to worry more about yourself than me.”

“Blayne,” I warned through gritted teeth.

Dad waved it off with a chuckle and looked back at Blayne. “Cancer sucks, but I won’t let it take me out.”

Blayne’s eyebrows bobbed before they settled in a frown. “I wonder if Liam would have preferred dying of cancer rather than being shot full of silver. I guess we’ll never get to ask him, will we?”

Without another word, Blayne walked away and shoved the front door hard as he exited.

My entire body shuddered as I sighed. “Dad, I wish you hadn’t done that. You knew it was useless.”

He shook his head and rested his hands on the table. “Well, it was worth a try. That kid needs to let go of this grudge he has against our family. It’s gonna consume him.”

“Daddy, he can’t let it go,” I said, my own irritation bubbling up. “Liam was all he had. And he died working for you. I don’t blame him for hating our family.” I raised a hand when Dad opened his mouth to argue. “Yes, I know Liam was a man who made his own decisions. You didn’t order him to go—he volunteered. Blayne needs to come to terms with his brother’s role in his death. I think that’s what he really needs to do.”

Our food came out before Dad could respond. Thankfully, it was delicious enough to keep our mouths full for the next tenminutes, and we didn’t resume our discussion about the Walker brothers. Nothing good would come out of those discussions.

I dropped Dad off at home an hour later.

He squeezed my hand before getting out of the car. “Are you sure you’re okay? You haven’t seemed like yourself since we saw Blayne at the restaurant.”

“I’m fine. Promise. Seeing him brings back old memories, that’s all.”

He looked at me, trying to determine if I was lying. Finally, he leaned forward and kissed my cheek before getting out.

I waited until he closed the door behind him, then drove to the grocery store. My fridge was stocked, but mostly with junk I had no desire to cook. And I couldn’t keep eating out unless I wanted to gain fifty pounds before Dad’s treatments were over.

I was pushing my cart down one of the frozen food aisles when a familiar voice called out my name. “Ava?”

I blinked as I recognized the voice, then turned slowly. Was that who I thought it was? At the end of the aisle, holding a box of frozen waffles and smiling at me, was April Knight. My lips broke into a huge grin. “April?”

“Ah!” April screeched and tossed the waffles back in the freezer before running toward me, arms open for a hug.

We collided in an embrace. “It’s been forever,” I said.

April stepped back and held my shoulders, looking at me. “Years. Oh. My. God.”

April and I had been friends in high school. She was two years older—a senior when I was a sophomore—but we’d grown close when we’d taken an art class together. I’d only seen her once or twice since she left town not long after her graduation. We’d stayed in touch via email, text, and social media, but when she got famous, our friendship had faded.

“Why are you back in town?” I asked.

April grimaced even as she grinned. “God, that is…a really long story.” Her eyes lit up. “Why don’t we have dinner tonight? Catch up?”

There went my plan to eat out less. “Sure,” I said. “That sounds wonderful.”

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