Page 2 of Pack Baines

The twins’ dad pulls me into a hug that hurts my heart with how desperately I wish I had this at home, but I bottle it as I pull away, pasting on a brittle smile that likely looks more like a grimace.

Kaleb can tell, but he simply brushes a hand over my head and offers sweetly, “You need a ride home, kiddo? It’s late and I know Mama Bear would kill us all if we let you walk the streets in the dark.”

“Damn straight, she would. Get your tush over here, missy,” Bear, the twins’ mom, demands a second later, entering the room followed by several other members of different packs, all friends and nothing like the ones that make up my pack at home.

Stepping into her embrace, I’m instantly surrounded by warm butter and sugary scones. Bear hums and whispers, “Gah, I’ve missed you, Juni-bear. We don’t see you enough.”

I squeeze the slight woman, wishing for the millionth time that my mom was like her, and step back, “Missed you, Mama Bear. I’ll try and come around more.”

She cups my face and nods, worry streaking over her delicately pretty features, but she smiles eventually and says, “Kaleb is taking you home. I don’t want any arguments, alright?”

I nod, because there’s no way I’m arguing with Bear Ledger, and she strokes another motherly hand over my knotted hair and sighs. When she faces her boys, she raises her eyebrows and says, “Don’t think I didn’t see how much food you tried to sneak out of here. I’m taking you both shopping tomorrow so you can replace it all.”

The twins snicker, and she shakes her head with a fond smile, ushering me out of the room. Over my shoulder, I hear the others greeting their boys, all laughter and jokes and warmth. Family and extended family, almost like a large pack, filled with love and respect. Everything my family isn’t. It crushes me as much as it makes me happy knowing my boys have happy lives.

“So, what’s it gonna take for me to keep you here instead of sending you back to that place?” Bear asks quietly once we’re far enough away, her thin, but strong, arm banded over my shoulder.

I shrug, knowing there’s nothing we can do. We’ve tried, boy have we. But there’s nothing that can be done. No amount of calls to social services, or cops, or welfare checks. Somehow, my parents all manage to clean up their acts in time for them to dupe any officer or care worker. The last time Bear tried to keep me overnight, my mom called the cops on her and declared kidnapping. It’s why I haven’t seen much of the twins’ family in the last couple of months.

Swallowing hard, I look down at my scuffed and dirty chucks that look so out of place on the glossy white floor I’m standing on, and quietly confess, “I don’t want to go home. They were drinking before I snuck out.”

A few cuss words slip from Bear’s mouth before she can swallow them, and she sends a pleading look to two of her bond mates that linger in the doorway nearby. Crane and Nolan send me a painedlook, and I know there’s nothing they can do. There’s nothing anyone can do. Not without a miracle, anyway.

“I’m sorry, sweet girl,” Bear sniffles. “I’d keep you here with us in a heartbeat if I could. We’ll keep trying, though, okay?”

Nodding like always, but feeling the helplessness burrow into my bones, I accept the hug she gives me before pulling away reluctantly. The boys are all there, frowning and worried, but I smile and remind them, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

I turn and leave before either of them can see the tears wavering on my lashes, Kaleb’s hand resting on my back a moment later as he leads me to his fancy car in the driveway. The drive goes quietly, Kaleb checking on me every now and then, and my whole body grows tenser and tenser the closer we get to the trailer park.

By the time Kaleb parks, my body feels as tight as a bow string, my mouth is dry, and I’m colored in about ten shades of terrified and shaking hard enough that my teeth ache as they clack against one another.

“Juni-bear,” he sighs, reaching over to take my hand. He doesn’t do much more than that for a long while, letting me borrow his strength, before he finally says, “Look, you have Ley and Low’s numbers, right? Call if you need absolutely anything. I’ll come for you the moment I hear you need me, okay? If anything happens, I want you to call straight away.”

With one last pleading look, I nod and climb out of the car, tugging the sleeves of my too small shirt down over my hands, gripping the frayed material tightly as I walk toward the trailer. I can hear the pounding bass of music coming from inside, and I wince as it rattles my bones. I don’t bother looking over my shoulder to see if Kaleb is still there, already knowing he won’t leave until I’m inside. Maybe even linger after.

Squaring my shoulders, I take a deep breath and head into the trailer, the screen slamming shut after me. The sound is drowned out by the pumping music coming from the old speakertucked in the corner, and the over-the-top laughter coming from the couch where Victoria is sprawled across two of her bond mates.

I’m assaulted by the stench of sweat, beer, and the skunk-like smell that makes me feel sick in a matter of seconds. There’s a cloying mixture of scents from the people within, my own muted until my designation comes in, and I have to swallow back a whimper in case my mother hears it. Not that you could hear much over the pop song blaring all around me.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Hershal snaps, just shy of a bark but no less powerful enough to have me cowering slightly.

“I had dinner with a friend,” I mutter, looking down at the grimy, stained floor.

“Speak up, scruff,” he demands, this time a bark that I have no choice but to obey.

“I was at dinner with a friend,” I almost shout, eyes widening at the floor, shoulders hunching that little bit more in an attempt to make myself as small as possible.

It’s no use, though, because my words draw all of the attention to me. The music screeches to a stop, and I find myself surrounded by adults the next moment. Victoria is watching me impassively, makeup smudged down her face, and wavering on her feet while her blown-out pupils look at me as though she has no feelings at all towards her daughter. Shawn and William’s narrowed eyes are watching me carefully, likely trying to sniff out some kind of mistruth, while Terry and Calvin look as bored as they could look at the show Hershal is putting on.

The man in question looks livid, though.

“What friend? You don’t got no friends,” he snarls, his stained shirt stretched over his rotund belly, sweat staining the collar and underarms.

Swallowing, I explain, “It was a friend from school. One of the girls. She asked me to dinner yesterday. I told Mom.”

The backhand catches me off guard, and I’m on the floor before I can take my next breath, my cheek scalding where Hershal struck me.

“You tryna’ blame your mother now?” he seethes, spittle flying at me with every word.

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