Grizzly Survival_A Paranormal Shifter M/M Romance

by Becca Jameson

  »»•««

  It was way too early when Gavin entered the city limits of Calgary. He was also starving. His stomach had been rumbling for over an hour. He hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning. He pulled off at the next exit, found an all-night diner, and ordered a massive breakfast.

  The waitress must have understood his need for solitude because she hardly spoke to him after taking his order. She refilled his coffee cup a few times and brought him water, but other than that she left him in peace to eat.

  His phone buzzed in his jacket pocket in the middle of his meal. He pulled it out, glancing out the window to find the sun rising over the horizon. A text from Dale. Not surprising.

  You okay?

  Gavin thumbed the side of his cell for several moments before responding.

  Yes. Needed to do some stuff. I’m fine.

  The three little dots popped up, blinking for a while before the next message came through.

  I’m uneasy about the fact that you fled without a word. Worried about you. We need to talk about last night. Please call me?

  Gavin stared at the words while he continued eating. What should he say? It took him a while to come up with a response.

  Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. I need some space and time to think.

  Three dots again. Almost instantly another message.

  I’m worried about what’s happening in that head of yours. Please, Gavin. I’ll give you some time, but I’m going to be uneasy until you talk to me.

  Gavin ate the rest of his breakfast and took a long drink of water before picking up his phone again.

  Please don’t worry. This has nothing to do with you. I just need time.

  It was a lie, and he was sure Dale would see right through it.

  I know we just met a week ago, and you have a right to be freaked out. I also know we said this would be casual. But what happened last night wasn’t casual. Not for me. And I know it wasn’t for you either. I’ll be here. Call me when you’re ready. Or just show up. Please.

  Gavin flinched. Those words were intense. His vision blurred as tears filled his eyes. He didn’t let them fall, but he had to blink several times to avoid it. Never had anyone been so kind to him. His cock stiffened just imagining Dale sitting on the edge of Gavin’s bed in his tiny apartment, probably naked, worrying about a human man he’d met a week ago.

  Gavin didn’t answer that text. What could he say?

  A new reality slammed into him. Dale wasn’t feeling casual anymore. In fact, it sounded like he wanted more. Gavin wasn’t sure he could give the man what he needed. He was uneasy about the level of dominance. Or maybe that was a lie…

  At the very least, he knew that being with him would hold Dale back. He was a shifter. He had no business entering into a long-term relationship with someone who would never be able to share that part of his life. What if he wanted to change forms and run in the mountains? Would he avoid doing so as often as he wanted because his partner couldn’t join him? Gavin didn’t want to be the reason Dale wasn’t fully himself. And he felt certain Dale’s family and friends wouldn’t want that for him either.

  Dale had had a previous human boyfriend. Gavin got the impression things between them had ended badly or at least not on good terms. The split had obviously been hard on Dale. Did it have anything to do with his old boyfriend being human? Had it been too much of a divide for the two of them to come to grips with?

  Dale had broken up with his human boyfriend years ago. And yet, Gavin got the impression he still mourned the loss. Had the man moved on? Found another partner he had more in common with? Perhaps someone who wasn’t a shifter?

  Gavin sighed as he shook the thoughts from his head and paid the bill. He left the waitress a nice tip and headed back outside. It was time to face his parents. He was going to claim his life and his true identity starting right now.

  It only took fifteen minutes to get to his childhood street and pull up at his parents’ home. He shut off the engine and stared at the house, seeing it as if for the first time. It was too perfect. White with black trim. The bushes manicured recently. The grass cut to just the right height. It looked like something from a movie. Not a home. Just a model house.

  The inside was the same. His mother had always stayed home. She vacuumed every day. The kitchen always sparkled. It wasn’t a comfortable place to kick off your shoes and put your feet on the coffee table. It was a stiff place to sit with your spine straight and your elbows off the table, making polite conversation that was fake and formal.

  His mother had served a hot breakfast and well-balanced dinner every day of his childhood. His father had come home from working at the bank to sit at the table and make small talk about his day. He always inquired about Gavin’s, but he never acted like a father. More like a character playing Dad.

  And then there was the church. They attended a strict fundamental Baptist church in Calgary. Every Sunday, Gavin had attended with his parents as a child. Until he turned eighteen and moved into the dorms, he had never had a choice. He’d known for years his mother was disappointed in him “straying from the good word of our lord and savior.” She’d harped on him for months until he told her he didn’t want to come to dinner on Sunday evenings if she was going to spend the entire time pleading with him about the church.

  From that day forward, she’d pursed her lips and let him know in no uncertain terms how she felt about his soul with nothing more than an expression. He had to give her credit for holding her tongue, making it appear she valued his presence at her table more than the saving of his soul.

  Joan and Percy Wright were good parents. They had kept him fed and clothed and sent him to a good university. But they weren’t connected to him. He’d led a lonely childhood. If it hadn’t been for Paige and the laughter and joy in her house, he wasn’t sure he would have escaped his childhood as unscathed as he had.

  Where his parents had been serious and stiff, Oleta and Stanton Osborn had been playful and loose. They had treated Gavin like a member of the family on many occasions. Gavin had learned early on that Paige was much more like family to him than either his mom or his dad. And although the two families weren’t exactly friends, Paige’s parents had always treated Gavin’s with respect, both in front of him and to their faces.

  Many times in his childhood he’d wished he’d been born into her family instead of his own. And after his fourteenth year when the world started spinning in the opposite direction, he’d been even more intrigued by his new knowledge about the Osborns. They never spoke of it. He wasn’t sure if Paige’s parents ever found out he knew about shifters. It remained the elephant in the room until this day.

  He took a deep breath and swung his leg over his bike, still staring at the house. A chill raced up his spine. The house no longer felt like home. It should. Didn’t adult children always enjoy returning to their childhood homes?

  Not Gavin. His childhood had fewer memories than most.

  The first few steps toward the house were heavy, dragging. But then he stood taller, pulled his shoulders back, and hastened toward the front door. When he stepped onto the porch, he hesitated. He’d dreaded this day for years. And now it was upon him.

  Somehow it suddenly didn’t seem as daunting as he’d expected. It didn’t matter. Gavin was gay. They either accepted the fact or they wouldn’t. Yes, he would mourn the separation from them if they chose to cut him out of their lives, but continuing to live a lie and carry on the farce that was his existence no longer seemed feasible.

  He lifted his hand and knocked on the door, thinking even that was odd. Didn’t grown children have keys and walk into their parents’ homes?

  Seconds ticked by before the door opened. His father stood there, his head cocked to one side, his brow furrowed. “Gavin. What a pleasant surprise. I thought you were in Silvertip. What are you doing here?” He didn’t even step back.

  Awkwardly, Gavin spoke. “Can I come in?”

  Percy jerked backward. “Of co
urse. Your mom’s in the kitchen making breakfast. Will you join us?”

  “I already ate. Thanks.” He headed for the back of the house, feeling his father behind him.

  Percy Wright resumed his spot where Gavin was certain he’d already been enjoying his coffee while waiting for his dutiful wife to set his breakfast in front of him. It was Sunday. His parents would be going to church at ten. It was early. Plenty of time.

  “Gavin,” his mother exclaimed, wiping her hands on her apron. “I didn’t know you were coming by. Why didn’t you call? I would have made you breakfast.”

  Gavin shook his head. “I already ate, Mom. I’m fine.” He didn’t take a seat at the table. It wasn’t even set for another person. Two perfectly positioned placemats sat at the end of the table, his father’s at the head, his mother’s to one side. Each spot had a centered plate, the obligatory fork, knife, and spoon in their precise locations—probably something his mother learned from a 1950s book about what it meant to be a perfect housewife. His mother wasn’t even born in the 1950s.

  The table was exactly the same one that had been there since before he was born. It was worn a bit on the corners, but otherwise in perfect shape—probably because roughhousing had never been permitted in the Wright household.

  As Gavin watched his mother dish up scrambled eggs and bacon onto a serving platter, he had the strangest sensation that in a way she was submissive too. She served her master like a good little wife. He wondered for a moment if that exchange extended to the bedroom or if his father ever spanked her when she was disobedient.

  Then again, he couldn’t imagine his mother ever being less than perfect, and he couldn’t remember a time when either of them had raised their voices.

  What he knew for sure was that he never wanted to live in a stuffy home like this one in which one person clearly served the other. It gave him chills. Is that what Dale wanted? A twenty-four-seven submissive who did his bidding or suffered the consequences?

  Gavin shook the thought from his head. He’d deal with that later. He was here to come out to his parents, not belabor his future.

  “What are you in town for?” his mother asked as she set the plates on the table and took her seat. She scooted her chair in, precisely lining it up with her spot, her shoulders back, her feet crossed at the ankles. He’d seen her do this thousands of times. Why was this the first time it stood out so blatantly?

  He also noticed her hair was perfect and her makeup already in place. He’d never thought about that before. What time did the woman get up in the morning to ensure she looked the part of homemaker extraordinaire before anyone else got out of bed?

  Both of his parents lifted their forks and took a bite of eggs. Of course eggs. Of course bacon. Of course wheat toast. That’s what his mother served on Sunday mornings. Without fail. So rigid. Gavin would never be able to eat scrambled eggs and bacon on a Sunday morning again in this lifetime. Anything else, but not that.

  As if he weren’t in the room, they ate. His father even had the newspaper spread out next to him, comical in a day and age when no one still received an actual hard copy of the newspaper. Somehow the man didn’t realize the information contained in that written version was completely obsolete by the time it hit his driveway.

  “I need to tell you both something. It’s important.”

  “What’s that, son?” his father asked without lifting his gaze. Gavin wondered what would happen if he asked them to stop eating and pay attention to him. They would probably freeze in confusion, their entire day thrown off by the ticking clock. His mother wouldn’t have the dishes washed and put away by precisely nine. The vacuuming would be two minutes off schedule. She would need to cut it short to be in the car by nine forty-five. The church was close. She liked to be in her pew five minutes before the service.

  It was time to stop that clock and shake things up. “I’m gay.”

  If his mother flinched, it was subtle. His father slowly put his fork down and finally lifted his gaze. “What are you talking about? Of course you’re not.”

  “Yes. I am. I’ve known my entire life. It’s time for me to stop faking otherwise.”

  His mother’s hand was shaking, but she kept shoveling eggs into her mouth as if he hadn’t spoken.

  His father set his hands on his lap and stared at his plate. “That’s nonsense.”

  “You have a girlfriend, darling,” his mother finally added. “You can’t be homosexual and have a girlfriend.”

  “I was pretending, Mom. And she has found someone she’s in love with. She’s moved on. It’s time for me to move on too.”

  She smiled, too brightly. “I’m sure you’re just confused. It happens. I heard that Stella’s grandson’s friend Brantley went through something like this at about your age. We’ll get you counseling. You’ll see. It’ll be fine.”

  Gavin shook his head. “No, Mom. It already is fine. It’s who I am. I’m not going to go to counseling. It won’t go away. It’s just who I am.”

  She finally stopped eating and set her fork on the edge of her plate. “Well, it can’t be who you are, son. It’s against God’s will. I’ll ask Pastor Thomas this morning if he has time to speak with you today.”

  Gavin shook his head. “I’m not speaking to the pastor either. I don’t need saving, Mom. I’m gay. It’s not something that can be fixed. It’s a trait. Like I have brown hair and blue-green eyes. I’m also gay,” he repeated.

  “I’ll call Pastor Thomas now.” She pushed her chair back and stood.

  Gavin let his voice rise above what she allowed in her home. “Mom, no.”

  She flinched, meeting his gaze. “We must. You’re confused. You need help.”

  “I’m not confused. I’m anything but confused. For the first time in my life, I’m quite certain I’m doing the right thing. I’ve held this secret for years. It’s time for me to be myself. And I didn’t want you to hear about it from someone else. That’s why I’m here. To inform you. Nothing else. I know it’s a shock to you, and it will take time to come to grips with, but you deserved to hear it from me.”

  His father, still not meeting his gaze, cleared his throat. “You should probably go now, Gavin. You’re upsetting your mother. We’ll pray for you, and you should do the same. If you can’t see to it to get help for your disorder, then it would be best if you didn’t visit.”

  “I see.” Gavin wanted to be sad. He thought he would feel a heavy sense of remorse and mourn the loss of this cohesive unit that had been his family for twenty-four years. But instead, he felt numb. Nothing they said was unexpected. If he could have rehearsed this conversation, it would have sounded almost verbatim exactly as it had transpired.

  Sure, he felt a sadness, but it was no different from the same sorrow he’d felt for years knowing his parents would never support his sexual orientation. The overwhelming effect of his coming out was relief. It was over. He only had to face them one time. He was free now. Free to live his life without worrying about them finding out. It had gone exactly as he expected. And now he had nothing left to do but glance around the home he’d been raised in and walk out the front door.

  He said nothing else as he headed for the living room. Neither of his parents spoke either. He thought he heard his mother suck in a sharp sob as he opened the front door, but he didn’t turn around. This chapter of his life was over.

  He headed back to his bike lighter than he’d felt entering the house. Lighter even than he’d felt in years. He swung over the seat, started the engine, and turned around to head back down the street.

  He didn’t know where he was going next, but his future was not in that house. It was out there waiting for him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dale was startled when Wyatt opened the back door of his home and stepped outside. He was really out of it if he didn’t even notice his best friend approaching. He nodded and resumed lining up the board he was placing on the deck. It would be done in a few days if he put in long hours. Which he fully inten
ded to do to avoid thinking about Gavin.

  How the hell had he let the kid get under his skin? He’d burrowed his way into Dale’s life, and now it was difficult to concentrate, worrying about where he was and what he was doing.

  Wyatt approached. “What are you doing?” He drew each word out a little too long.

  “Building your deck, of course. What you hired me to do.”

  “Uh huh. Well, you see, it’s Sunday. I never said you had to work weekends. And don’t you have better things to do? Where’s Gavin?”

  Dale lifted his face and took a deep breath. That was when he realized Wyatt was no longer a single man. “You completed the binding.” He beamed at his friend, not so much surprised as he was happy for him. After the insanity of nearly losing his mate the day before, it wasn’t shocking to find out they hadn’t wasted any time finishing the binding process.

  “Yes. But this shouldn’t surprise anyone. Where’s Gavin?” he repeated.

  Dale’s shoulders fell. “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know? I assumed you were with him.”

  “I was. We, uh… He left in the middle of the night.”

  “Left?” Wyatt stood taller. “To go where?”

  “Like I said, I don’t know. I texted him when I found him gone. He says he needs time or something.”

  Wyatt’s expression switched from one of concern to one of excitement. “Ah.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Dale didn’t think he wanted to hear the answer.

  Wyatt shrugged. “You really like him, don’t you? It’s serious.”

  “How could you possibly infer that from the fact that he left in the night?”

  “Because you’re here working on a Sunday morning instead of looking for him. You’re trying to take your mind off things because he means something to you.”

  Dale expelled a long breath. “Maybe. But what difference does it make? He’s got too many issues. Who sneaks out in the middle of the night? Someone who realizes they can’t take the heat. I don’t have time for that.” Who was Dale trying to convince?