Page 2 of Jesse
I didn’t need him to spell it out. I knew exactly which pack he was thinking about.
There was a truck earlier, manned by a couple of Thornebane wolves. They hadn’t seemed like trouble when I saw them setting up.
“You’re holding up the line,” I said, motioning to the growing group of grumbling customers waiting behind him.
Jackson crossed his arms. “He’s just worried. I am too.”
I glanced at the impatient faces in the crowd. With a resigned sigh, I asked, “What do you want me to say to get you to leave?”
“Just stay cautious,” he said, his voice softening. “And call me if anything happens.”
“Anything else?” I asked, raising a brow.
His smirk returned, and he nodded toward the counter behind me. “I wouldn’t mind some of those chili fries.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “Is your mate here with you?” I asked, feigning casualness.
“No, he’s at home,” Jackson said.
Good. Noah was the only reason I’d tolerate Jackson hanging around longer, and he wasn’t here. Perfect.
Grabbing a basket of fries, I handed it to Preston. I leaned in and murmured, “Add chili. Make it extra spicy.”
Preston shot me a knowing grin as he doused the fries in an ungodly amount of our signature fiery sauce and handed the basket back.
I placed it on the counter in front of Jackson.
“There. Now shoo. Go away before you hold us up any longer,” I said.
Jackson chuckled, taking the basket.
“Thanks, Beck,” he said, nodding before popping a fry into his mouth. He stepped to the side, only to cough violently as the heat hit him.
“Next order, please,” I called, satisfied by the sound of Jackson hacking up a lung nearby.
As I waved another customer forward, the irritation simmering under my skin flared up again.
My family was always meddling, always trying to steer my life like I couldn’t make my own decisions.
A twinge of annoyance tightened my chest. I didn’t need their “checking up.” I could handle this on my own.
This food truck wasn’t just a job. It was my way of carving out something for myself, away from the pack’s endless expectations.
Father had probably already decided what role I was supposed to play in the Silvercrest pack. The thought sent a shiver down my spine.
Back home, every word felt like a test. Father’s eyes would always linger just a little too long, like he was measuring me against some invisible standard.
Hudson, my eldest brother, already looked worn out, like the pressure was crushing him. He’d been buried under Father’s rules ever since Jackson left. And Jackson?
He had made his choice to leave for Pecan Pines and be with Noah. Though to be honest, I had never seen him happier. Even his skin looked healthier.
When I told him that during my last visit, he just laughed it off, saying the air here was better. Maybe he was joking, but I wasn’t so sure.
Back home, the constant need to prove myself hung in the air like a heavy fog. It made me all the more determined to succeed here.
Getting invited to one of the biggest food festivals in the region was not just luck. It was my chance to show everyone that I could do this on my own.
Nothing was going to stand in my way. Not even Jackson and his vague warnings about how things could go. Whatever that meant.
