Page 36 of His Curse

I burn rubber through the yard, tearing up grass and mud, finally getting on the trail after what feels like forever. I take out two more gates while I recall the layout of the grounds, replaying that map over and over in my mind as I wipe out at least six or seven more guards, and before I know it, I'm driving through fourteen miles of land until I get spit out onto a back road that will hopefully lead to the highway.

I might be a little worse for wear, but I’m out.

I am fucking out.

Now, I just need to get as far as I can before I find somewhere safe to tend to my wounds, and maybe I should find some clothes, too, but I'll do all of it with a smile on my face becauseI got out.

Chapter7

Acid Flashback

COLT

Two Days Later. Oregon.

Fuck, my shoulder hurts.

My shoulder, my back, and my asscheek.

Everything fucking hurts to be totally honest, and I have no clue as to why.

Ok, maybe Idohave a clue but it doesn’t completely account for the severity of the pain. My threshold is high, like most shifters and the like, but this shit is registering at a solid seven on a scale of one to ten and there’s no real reason for it in my opinion. Even if the last few night’s events could explain some of it.

After Ronny's Rite of Passage the other night, I wandered around the woods for a while feeling more alone than I have in a long time, and since I was too busy replaying our conversation over and over in my head, I wasn’t exactly paying attention to what I was doing, and before I knew it, I was about twenty miles from home. And that didn’t help any of the shit I’d been thinking about either because I started feeling sorry for myself at that point, too.

I expected Ronny’s reaction, I expected worse actually, and that’s why it was stupid to feel so hurt after the way things went. Especially since I couldn't keep my mouth shut and just kept talking about my curse and shit. But I wanted him to know. I wanted my nephew to understand me and his mom a little better, I guess, and I spilled more details than I intended to because of it.

I just wasn’t expectingmyreaction to it.

And I definitely didn't expect Ronny to still be on his journey for the last two days, stillcommuningwithnatureas Ron put it when I stopped by the ranch and asked him where the young wolf was.

Thankfully, my brother-in-law didn't jump my shit over leaving his son alone in the woods, but I didn’t really think he would because he isn't anything like my sister. Ron thought the Rite of Passage was a good thing and he didn't think Ronny needed a chaperone for it.

And ultimately, Marydidjump my shit for it whether her mate agreed or not.

When I went looking for my nephew last night in hopes of maybe talking to him about everything I told him—a vain attempt to hold onto our relationship more or less—and found he was still gone, well, I was surprised, to say the least. And Mary overheard mine and Ron’s conversation from inside their house since I'm not allowed on the property, let alone able to cross the threshold ninety-nine percent of the time, especially when the other pups are home, and that’s when she let me know exactly how she felt abouteverything.

My sister came flying out of that front door so fast I thought she was gonna take it off at the hinges, and she had a goddamn frying pan raised like a battle ax while she cussed a blue streak at me. And of course, that didn't help the way I was feeling either, but I stood on their front walk and took Mary’s tongue lashing like usual.

Then, also like usual, we fought after that.

I'm not known for being someone who lies, not about anything important anyway, and when Mary asked me what the hell happened in the woods and why Ronny was still gone, I told her.

I told my sister I gave her oldest pup the truth about where we come from, why we left, and what happened in between, and if Ron hadn't been holding her back, Mary probably would have actually swung on me with that cast iron weapon several times as soon as she found out I told her boyeverything. Which turned into our regular fight over how I'm an evil, cursed piece of shit, and she's a bitch with selective memory and blinders on.

She kicked me off their part of the property—again—at that point, and the hurt and loneliness I was feeling grew to the size of a boulder sitting right on my fucking chest.

So, I wandered some more and reflected on how I really am a cursed piece of shit because I have no one. Not my parents, not my sister, her family, or my mate. And after gods know how long, I found myself standing at Zan's front door around midnight.

Something he obviously sensed before I even knocked because that bastard opened the door with a bottle of Jim Beam in one hand and Loki in the other, ushered me inside to the kitchen island where Frankie was setting out snacks, and the three of us proceeded to hash out my shit while I cried the blues.

Figuratively, of course.

I can't remember the last time I actually cried.

Oh wait, yes I do. I bawled like a goddamn baby whenImurdered my mate.

Being with them made me feel better, though. A lot better and more normal than I’ve felt in a long fucking time. Booze and childish drinking games, music, and Frankie’s silly antics with the animals. It all helped me feel better about things. Probably helped that we finally—and I do meanfinally—talked about this weird thing between us, this connection the three of us share, thisbondI haven’t wanted to accept or put a name to because of everything it means for us.

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