Page 17 of Griffin

It was our family’s pride—a legacy built from nothing but our father’s relentless hard work and dreams.

Every corner, every table, even the creaky floorboards, held memories of him pouring his soul into this place.

It was the one thing he left to me and Noah before he…

I could still picture him behind the bar, laughing with customers, showing us how to fix the old taps, even teaching us how to handle the late-night drunks with respect and a firm hand.

Thinking about him now—the coma, that cold hospital room, the monitors beeping while he lay there, lifeless in everything but breath—would only send my thoughts spiraling.

We’d been told he might not wake up, that we should prepare ourselves.

But how do you prepare to lose someone who was the center of your world?

Instead, Noah and I poured ourselves into this bar, running it like he taught us, honoring his memory as best we could.

I didn’t need anyone—especially Michael—treating it like just another job, another short-term gig.

Calm down, I reminded myself.

It wasn’t like Michael had actually done anything wrong yet. I took a breath and tried putting myself in his shoes.

He’d come here hoping for a break, a chance to relax and get away from the madness of being stalked.

Maybe he’d expected some time with Casey, a chance to settle into Pecan Pines and feel safe for once.

Only, when he arrived, he found out his brother was about to leave for a trip with his new mate.

No close friend to lean on, no familiar place to hide away.

Just a bunch of strangers and an unfamiliar bar he’d apparently be working in. No wonder he seemed less than thrilled.

If I were him, I’d probably feel cornered too—pushed into something I hadn’t signed up for.

Not to mention, the weight of that stalker hanging over him.

The fear of constantly looking over your shoulder? Yeah, that could wear on a person.

Still, I couldn’t ignore the tension creeping into my shoulders.

My wolf side was a little more unforgiving, irritated at how easily Michael’s disinterest poked at my pride.

Noah just finished his set on stage and, spotting our little gathering, swung his guitar over his shoulder and strolled over, grinning. Ever the social one.

“Hey, you’re Casey’s brother, right? I’m Noah, Griffin’s little brother. I usually play here a couple of times a week.” Noah stuck out his hand, which Michael shook, though reluctantly.

He looked more than a little overwhelmed by all the attention.

“Michael, why don’t I show you where you’ll be working?” I suggested, wanting to cut through some of the tension.

At the very least, it’d give him a chance to get familiar with the place.

“We’ll leave you two to it,” Casey said, clearly sensing it too. He gave Michael a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I’ll take your stuff back to our apartment. Oh, I almost forgot—here’s the key.”

Michael accepted the key with a glance of thanks before turning to me, looking slightly cornered.

I offered him a small smile, hoping to ease some of his hesitation as I led him around.

The tour didn’t take long; the bar wasn’t big, but it was ours.

---