Page 87 of Wolf Cursed
Hot, broody wolf shifters could go to hell.
Muttering curses, I flipped the “Open” sign off and locked up, heading upstairs. A night off from training meant sticking to my normal dinner routine with Oscar. I’d prep and cook, and by the time he came upstairs from closing up shop, it was ready to eat. Not a terribly equal system, but I didn’t mind. It beat living on the street. Or worse. With Vorack.
“I bet your dad loved your cooking,” Oscar said around a mouthful of baked potato.
“Maybe.” I gave a small smile, but instead of holding it back like I would have with other people, I told him the truth. Dad was his brother, after all. And I’d already laid my cards out on the table, so to speak. There were no more secrets between us. “Dad stopped showing for family meals a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry, kid.”
“It’s fine. Honestly, I preferred it that way. Other times, he did show up and then passed out in his plate or fell out of his chair.”
“Shit, Ash. That’s not… You shouldn’t have had to deal with that.”
I shrugged. “I’d rather that than—”
I fell silent.
“Can I ask you something?” I said after another bite.
“Shoot.”
“Was my dad happy here? Before he left, I mean.”
“I thought so,” he said, his forehead wrinkling in thought. “Then again, I thought we were close too. Turns out I was wrong since he didn’t bother telling me he was leaving in the first place. Or about you. Hell, I wouldn’t have minded a niece to hang out with from time to time.”
My heart cracked wide open at that. Grief. Love. So many emotions overwhelmed me as I pictured what life would have been like if we’d stayed.
“Once, when he was really drunk, he told me I was his greatest pride,” I admitted. “And his worst mistake.”
Oscar shook his head, looking pissed now.
“Your dad clearly became a different person than the brother I knew. Hell, Ash. If I’d known—” Oscar’s voice was gruff as he stared down at his plate.
I reached out and grabbed his hand.
When he looked up, I shook my head. “It’s not yours to apologize for. Besides, eating my dinners is enough.”
He nodded.
I released his hand.
The urge to cry welled in my throat, and I swallowed it back, along with another bite of green beans. I had a feeling Oscar’s warm-fuzzy quota had just been met. Hell, so had mine. I wasn’t about to add to it with waterworks. But, for the first time in a lot of years, I was looking forward to future family dinners, and that brought a strange sort of grief-gratitude that I didn’t know how to process.
Oscar did the dishes, which also nearly brought me to tears.
“Seriously, if you’re going for Uncle of the Year, it’s a lock,” I told him.
“Funny,” he deadpanned. “Don’t you have training to get to?”
“Right. I…” I almost told him training had been canceled. But at the last minute, I changed my mind. “I better get going,” I finished.
Grabbing my shoes and a sweatshirt, I slipped out and down the stairs before Oscar could somehow sense my lie.
It was stupid.
Completely reckless, actually. There were way too many wolves in this town who had it out for me. Going out alone was insane.
But I also couldn’t afford to lose a night of training. Not with the fight coming. Besides, if I slipped into the woods out back, no one would notice. I could be home before anyone knew I was really alone.
