There was a burning in Logan’s cheeks that he knew was caused by the flame of embarrassment that accompanied those words. He still hadn’t been to see his mother. His own mother, who by all accounts was sick and dying, who Vivian had said was confined to her bed and had a nurse to care for her. He’d slept under the same roof as her the night before and he hadn’t bothered to walk across the house to her room because he hadn’t worked out what to say to her.
He felt like the worst son in the world but he didn’t have time to dwell on that feeling because someone else said his name and he turned to see an old man who only vaguely resembled the strongest wolf he’d ever known.
Darren McMurtry had aged since the last time Logan saw him. His dark hair was streaked with gray. The lines around his eyes were sunken and the eyes themself, were pale and haunted. His nose and cheeks were pink, and Logan remembered Dominic’s comment about his father’s drinking. He wondered just how deep the Head Enforcer was into the alcohol and just how large a role his own father had played in fostering that addiction.
“Logan.”
“Darren.” He held out his hand and the other man gave it a firm shake.
“It’s good to see you. I wish it was under better circumstances, but I’m glad you’re here.”
“Thank you for meeting with me.”
“Of course, though I’ll admit I’m not sure how much I can tell you.” Those haunted eyes met his and understanding passed between them. “I think you likely know what I mean.”
“Yes, sir.” Logan’s throat felt tight even acknowledging that much of the truth.
He had never really considered just how much, or how often, his father used his power. For some reason, he’d thought the bastard would limit himself, only crossing that line when it was life and death, as it had been when he’d used his Alpha voice to silence Logan. But of course, he’d given his father too much credit. He was a monster and monsters didn’t worry about self-control, only maintaining power.
There was no telling what Byron Kemp had done over the years, the horrors he’d inflicted, the lives he’d ruined. Darren McMurtry would know though. He would know it all. He’d been Byron’s best friend at one point. He was still his second in command. If there was anyone that Logan’s father would have needed to silence to keep his secrets, it was this man.
Which explained the rift in their friendship and the turn to alcohol to keep the memories he couldn’t share with anyone submerged where they couldn’t see the light of day.
“When Dominic told me what he’d done, forcing him to call you, I wanted to drive up to the house and rip his head off right then and there.” The older man shook his head, “But I also realized what your return might mean for us. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re the heir to the pack, Logan. You can take control. You can stop him.”
“Just saying that out loud could get you killed for treason, Dad.” Dominic’s jaw was tense.
“Maybe it is treason, but everyone here knows the Alpha has to be handled.” Darren narrowed his eyes on his eldest son. “I’m loyal to this pack. I’m trying to save it, to save all of us. We all are. That’s why we’re here.”
Logan glanced around the room at the other faces. There were more people than he’d been expecting. He’d asked Dominic to get his father and brothers to meet with him in hopes of finding out more about what his own father was up to. Dominic had said there was a small group of Enforcers who weren’t happy with the status quo and would be open to meeting with him. He’d expected 4 or 5 but there were closer to ten men in the room, some of whom Logan recognized from his youth and others he didn’t but thought he should.
“We want you to challenge your dad, kill him, and free us from his tyrannical rule.”
“Dillon.” Dominic snapped at his youngest brother. “You can’t say shit like that.”
“Why not? I thought that was why we were here?”
Logan blinked as he realized the man sitting on the counter, booted feet dangling as he bit into an apple and shrugged, was the youngest of the McMurtry brothers. Dillon was still a teenager if Logan’s math was right. He was eighteen, maybe nineteen, about the same age Logan had been when his life changed forever and he left the pack behind. If he’d remembered Drake as a lanky teen he’d only remembered Dillon as the little hellraiser that was always following his older brothers around demanding to be part of whatever they were up to.
“We’re here to talk. You’re here to listen.” Dominic sighed as he turned back to Logan, “Sorry about him. He’s still a loudmouth brat.”
“Dillon? Wow.” Logan shook his head in amazement. “I didn’t even recognize you.”
“Been a long time.” Dillon took another bite of his apple and then spoke with his mouth full. “Surprised you remembered me at all.”
“Dillon.” It was Darren who snapped this time and his voice carried the authority of not just a father but of his position as Head Enforcer. “Shut up.”
Dillon dropped his gaze, focusing on his apple. Logan swallowed as tension swept through the room. The others fidgeted and shuffled their feet. It was clear that despite Dillon being chastised for his bluntness that they all agreed with his words.
“You all want me to kill my father?” Logan shook his head. “I know he’s not a good man or a good Alpha but I’m going to need some more information before I can even consider challenging him. I need to know what’s been going on here. What’s he been up to? Why have so many families left? Where did they go? What’s making him sick? Is he really dying or is it a ploy to get me back here? I need answers and if he dies those answers die with him… unless one of you can fill me in?”
There were more sounds of shuffling but not a whisper passed among them. Logan sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to get those answers from this group. He’d known he wouldn’t but it didn’t make things any less frustrating.
“I wish there was a way I could explain what I know…” Darren coughed as though the words themselves had gotten stuck in his throat and Logan knew the feeling when he groaned.