by TJ Klune
“But you stopped.”
“Stopped what?”
“Hating.”
Gordo sighed. “I did. Look, Gavin. I don’t know what it’s like for you. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been through. But if it’s anything like what happened to me, then I get it. I was toxic. I wasn’t good for anyone. You wouldn’t have liked me back then, and you would have been justified.”
“I don’t like you now,” Gavin said, but it was light, almost conversational.
“Noted,” Gordo said. “And notice how I’m not calling you on your bullshit, even though I should.” He leaned forward, his arm still around Robbie. He put his other arm on the table, his stump smooth and pale. “I had anger in my head and heart. I hated the wolves for all they represented. I hated the Bennetts for abandoning me. I hated witches because of the magic in my veins. I was too young for what they did to me. What Abel Bennett and Livingstone made me do.”
“You’re better now,” Gavin said. He looked down at Gordo’s stump while I was thinking about the scar where the raven had once been. “Mostly.”
“It’s the price I paid. And I would do it again because it meant Ox was safe. That’s the funny thing about hatred and anger. It feeds the fire, but the longer it lasts, the more it burns. And I was tired of burning because I was burning alone.”
“Forgiveness,” Gavin whispered.
“Or something close to it,” Gordo said. “This pack, it’s… it’s heavy. It pulls at you, even when you don’t want it to. But I need them just as much as they need me. I lost sight of that in the fire. Maybe it wasn’t forgiveness as much as it was acceptance. There are charred remains where the fire used to be. I think it’ll always stay that way. But even in those remains, new things can grow.”
“Mark?”
“Mark,” Gordo agreed, and he smiled softly. I remembered the hard man who’d taken three teenagers under his wing to chase after a monster. The man who’d growled and snapped at us and yet still followed us into the dark. This same man who’d shaved our heads so we could look like him, so we could be as badass as he was. That man was still here, but his sharp edges had been softened, the full extent of his heart on display. He was a roughneck, a mean bastard who could lay waste with nothing but his voice, but he loved us fiercely. “He was a big part of it. But it was the others too.” He jostled Robbie gently. “Even when they didn’t know who I was.”
Robbie pushed his glasses back up on his nose. “You cried when you found me. Remember? Big ol’ manly tears. I thought it was weird that an old stranger was crying on a bridge in the middle of nowhere.”
Gordo rolled his eyes. “And I regret everything about it.”
Dominique appeared, carrying four plates, two in her hands and two stacked against her forearms. She set Robbie’s rabbit food in front of him. Gordo had a chicken-fried steak covered in gravy, already cut into bite-sized pieces. He grumbled that he didn’t need her to do that for him, and she snapped back that until he got himself fitted with a prosthetic, she was going to keep on keeping on.
She put a burger and fries in front of me. I was touched that she’d remembered.
And Gavin’s eyes were wide when she set a breakfast plate in front of him, stacked high with bacon.
“Coffee’s coming,” she said, squeezing Gordo’s shoulder before whirling around.
I watched her walk away. “She and Jessie are….”
“Getting there,” Gordo muttered. “Taking it slow.”
“She’s pack.”
“She is,” Gordo said. Then, “You weren’t here, Carter. She needed it. It wasn’t—”
“It’s fine,” I said quickly. “Bambi too. The more the merrier, right?”
Gordo stared at me for a long moment before nodding. “Right. Strength in numbers.” I opened my mouth to speak again, but he cut me off. “And no, I don’t want to talk about Chris and Tanner. I have no idea what the hell they’re doing, and it’s none of my business.”
“Straight people are weird,” Robbie said through a mouthful of lettuce.
“Seriously,” I said.
“So weird,” Gavin agreed, and we all stared at him. “What?”
“Nothing,” I said as he let go of my hand. I figured he was going to plant himself face-first into his food, or at least start grabbing handfuls and shoving it into his mouth. He was glaring at the bacon as if it had offended him. I felt him watching me out of the corners of his eyes as I picked up a knife to cut my burger.
We all froze when he reached for a fork. He grabbed it like he was holding a weapon, his fist tight around the handle. He brought it to his nose and sniffed. He grimaced, pulling it away from his face and scowling. He turned his hand side to side like he was studying it. Then, awkwardly, he turned his fist down, his elbow jutting out and almost hitting me in the face. He stabbed a piece of bacon, but it fell off. He tried again. This time he got it. He craned his neck out, extending his tongue as he brought the fork to his face. He caught the bacon between his teeth and then sucked the entire thing into his mouth like it was a noodle. “What?” he asked us through a mouthful. “Carter said to use forks. They smell bad. Other people put them in their mouths, but I still do it.” And as if he needed to prove it, he stabbed another piece of bacon while chewing obnoxiously. He held it up. “See? See, Carter?”
“Oh my god,” I mumbled toward the ceiling. “You’re such an asshole.”
IT WAS WHEN WE WERE FINISHING that Gordo said, “I need to get back to the shop. I’ve got a few more things to catch up on before I can head home. Full moon’s this weekend, and we’re already going to miss a couple more days.”
And Gavin said, “Can I see?”
Gordo stopped halfway out of the booth, hand flat against the table. “See what?”
“Shop. Garage.”
“You’ve already seen it,” Gordo said slowly. “Remember? Many times.”
“Yeah,” Gavin said. “Right. Sorry.” He frowned down at the table.
Gordo stared at the top of his head for a moment. “But I guess you haven’t seen it since you’ve been on two legs, right?”
Gavin shook his head.
“Come on,” Gordo said. “Show you a thing or two. It helps to have opposable thumbs. Can’t be any worse than Robbie. He lit a car on fire once.”
“It was an accident.”
Gavin hesitated, looking over at me. And the weird thing about it was I hesitated too. The idea of letting him out of my sight didn’t sit well with me. I swallowed thickly and said, “Go ahead. I’ll see you later.”
“Okay?” Gavin asked.
“You don’t need my permission. You can do what you want.”
“I know,” he said. “But are you okay? You might die. Do something stupid.”
I shoved him out of the booth. “Get the fuck outta here.” But the last word was choked because he smiled at me with the barest hint of teeth.
“Ready?” Gordo asked, looking a little out of his depth.
“Ready,” Gavin said.
But before they could leave, I grabbed Gavin by the wrist. He looked back down at me as I pulled myself out of the booth, grabbing my coat. I put it over his shoulders. “It’s cold out.”
“I can’t get sick,” he reminded me.
“I know you can’t get—Will you just do this for me?”
He watched me for a moment. Then, “Okay.” He slid his arms in the sleeves. “Good?” he asked, looking down at himself. The rhinestones on his shirt glittered in the light from the diner.
“Good,” I managed to say, desperately trying to ignore the sense of satisfaction I felt. It was too big. Too wild. “I’ll come by in a little bit.”
He followed Gordo out the door, but not before looking back at me. I nodded, and then they were crossing the street, shoulders close together.
“Oh boy,” Robbie said. “You’re in it deep.”
I blinked. “What are you talking about?”
He snorted. “Yeah. Sounds about right.”
Then, “You know what? No. That’s not right at all. You know what I’m talking about. We don’t have to dance around it like we used to when you were too dumb to figure it out.”
I sat back down in the booth, rubbing a hand over my face. “It was just a coat.”
“Uh-huh,” he said. “Which is why you smell like you do. A little too happy about it.”
I groaned. “Stop smelling me.”
“I’m trying,” he said, nose wrinkling. “But it’s pungent.”
“I’ll tell Kelly about that shirt of his you stole and slept with for, like, six months before you told him you wanted to put your face on his face.”
He looked scandalized. “You wouldn’t dare.”
I grinned at him. “Watch me.”
“Fine.” He looked back out the window. Gavin and Gordo entered the garage across the street, Gordo holding the door open for his brother. “He’s learning.”
“Who? Gavin?”
He shook his head. “Gordo. Do you think they’ll be all right?”
I was confused. “Why wouldn’t they be?”
“I don’t know. It’s…. Gordo wasn’t very happy with the idea of having a brother when he found out about it.”
“Yeah, but can you blame him? It changed everything for him.”
“I get that,” Robbie said. He began tearing at a napkin, leaving a little pile on the table. “I just… I want them to be okay with each other.” He laughed. It sounded hollow. “But I kind of don’t, too.”
That surprised me. “Why?”
“It’s… you’re gonna think it’s stupid.”
“Maybe. Tell me anyway.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it. His lips thinned. Then, “I guess I’m a little jealous.”
I blinked. “About what?”
His cheeks reddened. “Gordo didn’t really like me when you all came back. None of you did.”
“We didn’t know you,” I told him. “You were…. We’d been gone for so long, and then we came back and things had changed. It wasn’t just you. It was everything.”
“No, I get that,” he said. “But Gordo was… well. He was kind of a jerk. He really didn’t like that I was working at the garage. And I understood, you know? It was his place. He’d made it what it was. And then duty called, and I think he expected it to stay as it was when he came back. But it wasn’t. I was there. He wasn’t mean, but he didn’t like it. And I hated it.” The pile of shredded napkin grew. Dominique was going to kick his ass. “I’m not—I don’t try to make people like me. They either do or they don’t. But it was different with him. I’d heard all these stories about him, how angry he was, how he could be gruff and a dick, and I was worried. He was there first, you know? If he wanted to, he could probably convince the rest of you to make me leave.”
I couldn’t keep the shock from my face. “He wouldn’t do that, man. I mean, yeah, he’s a fucking asshole, but he wouldn’t push you out.”
“I know that now,” Robbie said. “And I think I wore him down. Or grew on him. Or something. He started talking to me. Started relaxing around me. And I… I liked him. Once you get past all the bluster, he was….”
“Gordo.”
“Yeah.” He looked relieved. “And maybe he just put up with me at first, but that changed somehow. He was my friend. And then he was my brother. It wasn’t like it was with you or Joe. Or even Ox. I love you guys, but I felt like I’d earned it with him.”
I understood. “And then Gavin came.”
“Right,” he said. He shook his head. “It’s dumb, I know. I have nothing to be jealous about. Gordo deserves this after all the shit he’s been through. To have someone that comes from the same blood. Someone who knows what it’s like to have Livingstone for a father. As much as I try, I can’t ever be like that.”
“Right,” I said, trying to choose my words carefully. “But just because Gavin’s here doesn’t mean Gordo’s going to see you any different. Or think of you any less. There’s room. For you. For Gavin. For all of us. We’re pack, Robbie.”
“Pack,” he said quietly. He smiled, but it faded as quickly as it came. “I get it, though. Brothers. What it means. How you’d do anything for them, even if it means hurting yourself. I never had that. I do now.”
“You have all of us.”
“You didn’t look for me. At first.”
I closed my eyes. “Shit.”
“Oh, hey, no. That’s not—I didn’t—fuck. Carter, listen. I didn’t mean it that—”
I opened my eyes again. “No. It’s fair. You’re right. I didn’t. And yet you still looked for me when I was gone, didn’t you?”
He sighed. “Yeah. I told myself it was for Kelly, and a big part of it was. But it was for you too.”
“Thank you.”
He recoiled. “I’m not asking for you to—”
“I know, man. But you deserve to hear it from me. Thank you for giving enough of a shit about me to try to come after me. It took me a long time to pull my head out of my ass, but toward the end, I want you to know I did the same for you.”
“You did,” he said. “You came to the bridge.” He laughed. “And I tried to kill you.”
“Eh. Something is usually trying to. It’s part of being who we are.”
He sobered. “I wish it wasn’t always that way.”
I looked down at my hands. “Me too. But if we don’t fight, who will?”
“Do you remember when I was in the basement? After that full moon when Livingstone was still in my head. Kelly was with me, and all of you were still standing on the other side of the silver. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust me, but it felt like it.”
“Not one of our better moments,” I muttered.
“Maybe,” he said. “But I get it now. The why of it. Gavin crossed the line. He came over to me and laid his head on my lap.”
I’d forgotten about that. I’d been itching to cross it myself, if only to get as close to Kelly as possible just in case Robbie wasn’t… Robbie. But Gavin had taken it upon himself to show us without words how ridiculous we were being. Even as a wolf, he was extraordinarily expressive, and the look of disdain he’d given us, had given me, was like a cold splash of water.
“I’m jealous,” Robbie said, “but then I remember that moment and realize I have no reason to be. Even then, he wasn’t trying to take any of you away from me. He was showing us how pack is supposed to be.”
I felt weirdly proud. “He’s all right, I guess.”
Robbie snorted. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”
“Do what?”
“Act like that. We know how you feel about him. We know because we know you. Always sniping at him, but when you don’t think anyone is watching, you get this… look on your face. It’s soft. And kind. You have this shield. You think you’re supposed to be a certain way. It comes with being the oldest. But it doesn’t always have to be like that.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He reached over and put a hand on top of mine. “You’ll figure it out. You always do. Just… can I give you a piece of advice?”
I turned my hand over and wrapped my fingers around his wrist, his pulse strong against my thumb. “Sure.”
Robbie said, “Trust him. And yourself. It’ll all work out in the end. And when it does, when you see him for what he truly is, it’s going to be the greatest feeling in the world. Kelly, he… he makes me better. He makes me whole. I love him because of all that he is and all that he isn’t. And like Gordo, you deserve this. I think we all do. And one day, when blood no longer needs to be spilled and we can just breathe, we’ll see why we’ve had to fight for so long. We’ll be together.”
I let his hand go. I stood from the booth. “Up,” I said, wiggling my fingers at him. “Come on, up.”
He got up.
I hugged him.
He grunted in surprise, but his arms were strong around me. I put my chin on the top of his head, and I felt him laughing against my throat.
“Thanks, Carter.”
I heard the click of a camera shutter and looked over to see Dominique lowering her phone. She grinned at us, shaking her head. “Boys,” she said. “Silly, lovely boys.”
WHEN WE FOUND THEM IN THE GARAGE, Gavin and Gordo were studying an engine block held up by chains.
Gordo was saying, “—and that’s how Grandad said it. Said you have to love it. Said you have to be kind. It’ll piss you off, but if you give it patience, it’ll reward you. It just takes time.”
Gavin nodded. He had a bit of oil on the tip of his nose. “Patience,” he said. Then, “Gordo?”
“Yeah?”
“Grandad. He my grandad too?”
“Yeah. I suppose he was. Good man. Taught me all I know about cars. He died, when I was little. Before you were even born.”
“Oh.”
“I’ve got some pictures back at the house. Maybe you could come over sometime and I can show them to you.”
“I’ve been to your house.”
“You have,” Gordo said. “You pissed in my kitchen. You remember?”
Gavin shrugged. “Nope.”
“Really? Because that was a lot of piss that I had to—oh, fuck you, man. You’re yanking my chain, aren’t you.”
Gavin laughed. “Yeah. Yanking your chain. So much piss.”
Gordo glanced back at us. “You hear this motherfucker? Jesus Christ. Robbie, come here. You need to hear this too. Don’t touch anything, though. I don’t need something else catching fire.”
Robbie went.
I leaned back against the wall and watched the three of them as the afternoon went on. Every now and then, Gavin would glance back at me, as if to make sure I was still there.
white willow/die squirrel die
My mother said, “Tell me. About where you went. What you did.”
We were sitting in the clearing. The full moon was only a couple of days away. The others spread out in a loose circle, watching as Chris and Tanner sparred, claws out, fangs bared. Their blows landed heavy, but they were laughing, even when they began to bleed. Jessie paced around them, barking orders, telling them to straighten their stance, to stay light on their feet. Gavin was watching too, standing between Ox and Joe, bouncing on his feet like he was itching to get in on the action. I shook my head at the sight of him.
