Page 53 of Rocky Top

I decided to give her some space. I ushered Emma away. “Come on, kiddo, let’s show your mom what an awesome artist you are.”

After church, Rocky was by my side as Knox was whisking Eliza and Emma to the kitchen. “Why don’t we get some fresh air? You and me.”

I knew what they were doing. And maybe I should’ve been madder. But I let him lead me outside, out to the bench under the giant oak where we’d talked before.

“Alright, Rocky,” I said, folding my arms. “Tell me the truth. What’s going on in this clubhouse? Y’all got a cult I should know about? A secret religion? Weekly blood rituals?”

Rocky let out a low laugh. “You’re something else, Birdie.”

I tilted my head. “And you ain’t answered my question. You and Knox have my friend scared. And it might not be about things that go bump in the night, because that’s crazy. But somethings spooked her and you are afraid she’ll talk.”

He leaned back on the bench, his eyes on the sky. “You ever think maybe some things are better not known? At least not until you’re ready?”

“I’m always ready,” I said.

He looked at me then, like he was weighing a decision that could change everything. But instead of answers, all I got was a rough sigh and a soft brush of his thumb over the back of my hand.

“You’re something special, Birdie Mae,” he said. “I just hope when the truth comes out, you still think I’m worth it.”

I stared at him, heart thumping like a jackrabbit, but before I could press him, the clubhouse door creaked open and Eliza stuck her head out.

“Lunch is up!” she called.

Rocky stood first, offering me his hand.

I took it.

“The truth is your friend has been through a lot,” Rocky said. “Let’s talk about this later.”

And as we walked back inside, one thing was clear. I might not have believed in shifters. But I damn sure knew every one of them was hiding something.

Chapter 12

Birdie

I shouldn’t have come back. But I couldn’t sleep. Not after Eliza talked about them being shifters, and Knox and Rocky tried so hard to convince me otherwise.

The trees loomed taller than I remembered, casting long, tangled shadows as the sun dipped low behind the mountains. The wind picked up, rustling the underbrush in a way that made my stomach twist. Every instinct screamed this was a bad idea, but here I was anyway, back at the campsite where it all went to hell.

Besides, my GoPro was out here somewhere. If it survived the attack, it could have the creatures on camera.

Closure, I’d told myself. One last look. A way to prove I wasn’t crazy, that somethingdidhappen out here that night. That I hadn’t imagined glowing eyes in the dark, claws raking bark, the sound of growling just beyond the reach of firelight.

But standing there in my boots and denim jacket, in the middle of the damp pine and the musk of mossy earth, I felt like Little Red riding into the damn wolf’s den with a flashlight and too much sass.

“I’m not scared,” I said aloud, mostly to hear my own voice.

It sounded a hell of a lot strongerthan I felt.

The ashes of my old campfire were still there, kicked into a sad circle of charcoal and crushed beer cans like some frat had used it. My gear had been long hauled off by park rangers. But I’d hidden a camera. Something I hadn’t told Rocky about.

I crouched down and ran my fingers through the soot, trying to find it.

But I remembered the amber eyes. The warmth of thick fur. A beast that moved like smoke and shadows… that never hurt me. Thatprotectedme.

And something inside me hadn’t stopped thinking about that ever since.

Something low and sharp broke the silence, a growl. Not from a bear. Not from anything I knew.

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