Page 126 of The Beta's Heart

Still, I knew I had to check it out, and that’s how Peri and I found ourselves standing before my old home on a muggy afternoon at the end of August.

“Sunshine, I don’t think you should go in there.” I began, my voice tinged with concern. “Wait out here and let me—”

“Dammit, Tyler, I am awerewolf! If the fucking roof falls in on me, I’ll dig my way out! Now let me by!” Peri snapped, fierce determination lighting up her eyes.

“Yes, ma’am.”

With a formal bow, I made a flourish with my hand for her to proceed me up the rickety stairs. When her sassy self marched right by me with her nose in the air, I couldn’t resist lighting her backside up with my other palm. She gasped and whirled on me with a dropped jaw.

Leaning down, I whispered in her ear, “And that’s twelve dollars in the swear bear, my love.”

“Dammit!” she squalled, and my smirk grew into a wide grin.

“Fourteen.”

The house creaked and groaned as we stepped inside, the rotted floorboards protesting under our weight. The damage might not have been so bad if most of the roof hadn’t collapsed, letting in sixteen years of wind and rain and snow.

The living room was a mess of overturned furniture and scattered debris. Dust motes danced in the faint light filtering through the broken windows, and we moved cautiously, searching for any clues about my parents.

When we made our way to the small office at the back of the house, Peri scanned the room, then headed straight for the metal filing cabinet in the corner. It took some grunting, but she managed to open all of the drawers except for the top one.

“Ty, help me with this,” she said.

Going over, I grabbed the handle and heaved, the old metal groaning in protest. Papers spilled out as the drawer flew open, and I left her to rifle through them as I went back to searching.

“Ty?” she called a few minutes later, her voice tight with excitement.

“Yeah?”

“Tyler?” she said again, more urgently.

“Yeah?”

“I found your birth certificate.”

“All right. Thanks.”

“Come read it.”

“I think I know my birthday, Sunshine,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Get your ass over here and read it!” she demanded, thrusting the paper into my hands when I joined her.

“Man, Per, you’re going to fill up that swear bear today—” My words died off as my eyes skimmed the document. It looked right. Tyler Quinn James. Born July 8. Mother Bekah Allison James. Father—

I blinked and my fingers crumpled the edges of the paper. FatherHunter Duke James.

“Hunter Duke James?” I whispered, my voice trembling with shock as my eyes flew up to meet Peri’s.

“Seymour wasn’t your father,” she whispered back, her eyes wide. “Dr. Myers was right!”

My entire life had been a lie. The man I thought was my father wasn’t. My mind raced, trying to piece together what this meant.

Then the floor under us started to teeter and creak, our moving around inside obviously more than it could handle, and I grabbed her arm.

“We need to get out of here!”

“No, not yet!”

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