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A Dangerous Curiosity (The Holbrook Brother Shifters Book 3)

Page 12

by Renee Carr


  My father cut in, knowing that I was struggling with it. “Our secrets are deep, Lily. And we don’t expect you to keep them from everyone. You’ve done a fantastic job at being part of this family, this pack. We’ll get through this, and your grandmother will too. We love you very much. Call us and keep us updated on anything else happening.”

  “I will,” I replied. “Love you too.”

  I hung up the phone and turned to go back into the room but I stopped myself. I needed something to take everything off of my mind for a minute. I needed to calm down before I walked back into my grandmother’s room. So, I did what I always did when I needed a laugh or smile—I called Tanya.

  She answered on the second ring. “Hello, slut.”

  I tried to keep my voice as steady as possible, but of course, it cracked as soon as I started talking. “Hey, are you busy?”

  Tanya went silent for a moment. “What’s wrong?”

  “My grandmother’s in the hospital,” I replied. “She’s going to be fine, but it just shook me up a little bit.”

  “Damn, I’m sorry about that. You know I’m not very good with that stuff, but if you need anything, all you have to do is call me,” she said. “I’ll answer if I’m not doing something more important like picking lint off my shirt or watching the wind blow…”

  I smiled, laughing quietly to myself. “That’s exactly why I called you. I just needed you to calm me down for a second.”

  “That’s what I’m here for,” she replied. “But seriously, you know you can call me if you need anything. I’m still ready to come out there and rescue you if you need it.”

  “Thanks,” I chuckled.

  “Oh, and call me later and tell me how your date went,” she said with a squeal. “I want to know all the details.”

  I smiled and got off the phone with her, feeling a bit better. Part of me missed home, but at the same time, I really couldn’t imagine being that far away from Brighton. Just the sheer magnitude of that was crazy to me. I barely knew him. Or maybe I knew him fully, and that was what made it so crazy to me.

  The nurse pushed a patient past me on a hospital bed, knocking me from my thoughts. I smiled and turned, walking back into my grandma’s room. She glanced up at me and smiled. “I really need to get out of here. I feel fine. These hospitals are not fun at all.”

  I sat down in the chair next to the bed and put my hands in my lap. “Well, when you decide not to deprive yourself of water and go running around picking up all kinds of crazy diseases, we can leave.”

  My grandmother narrowed her eyes at me. “There’s that sassy girl that I know and love. I knew you were in there somewhere.”

  Shaking my head, I poured my grandma another glass of water and handed it over to her. “Drink this.”

  She wrinkled her nose, taking the cup from me. “Party pooper.”

  I snickered, shaking my head. “You are ridiculous.”

  Just then, the door opened and a relatively handsome doctor walked in the room. Immediately, my grandmother sat up, pulling her shoulders back and holding her cup of water in her hand. “Well, hello.”

  I gave my grandmother a side glance and rolled my eyes. The doctor smiled and walked in, setting the file in his hands down on the counter. He reached out and shook my grandmother’s hand and then mine. “I’m Doctor Smith, the attending on duty. So, we got the rest of your tests back and almost everything looks good.”

  “Almost?” I asked.

  He reached over and picked up the file again, flipping it open. “Yes, besides being dehydrated and having some sort of virus, it seems your grandmother has a bit of a urinary tract infection as well. You’d be surprised how painful this can be, and what kind of symptoms they can create, especially for an older woman such as your grandmother.”

  My grandmother smacked her lips. “Do they really consider a woman in her 50s old?”

  The doctor chuckled, making some notes in the file as I stared at her. “Grandma, stop.” I turned back to the doctor. “So, what do we do now?”

  The doctor finished up his notes and shut the file. “She will get a prescription for some antibiotics, and then she just needs to rest and drink plenty of fluids. I’m going to go ahead and give an IV of antibiotics before she leaves, just a small one to get her body jumpstarted on it. Of course, if there are any other complications, just bring her right back here.”

  My grandmother pursed her lips. “Let me ask you this: Does vodka count as plenty of fluids?”

  I shook my head, closing my eyes. “Please ignore her. I promise she’s not drinking bottles and bottles of vodka.”

  The doctor smiled and walked over, putting his hand on my grandmother’s shoulder. “No, vodka does not count. In fact, I would like to see you stay clear of alcohol for quite a while. Get everything back under control and then go back to your riveting social life, which the nurses have told me all about.”

  I gasped, looking over at her. “You didn’t! I can’t take you anywhere.”

  My grandmother shrugged. “I was bored. I wanted these gals to remember that older folks can have a good time too.”

  My nostrils flared as I stared at the floor, shaking my head. “Or scare them into absolutely never wanting to grow old.”

  The doctor walked to the door and turned around, looking at us. “You ladies have a good evening, feel better, and hopefully I won’t be seeing you anytime soon.”

  My grandmother waved, making the symbol of a phone with her hand and holding it to her ear as she mouthed the words, “call me.”

  There was silence in the room for several moments before we both burst out in laughter. That was a perfect example of exactly who my grandmother was. She loved to get a laugh from people, she loved making people question who she was or what she did in her spare time, and to be frank, she was pretty bored now that my grandfather was gone. Messing with people had become more of a hobby for her than anything else. We both breathed deeply and let out a long puff of air. I looked down at the charm on my wrist, flipping the wolf over and back again.

  My grandmother cleared her throat. “Brighton was incredibly strong, not that I’m that big of a person, but he picked me up as if I weighed 20 pounds. I don’t remember him being that big the last time I saw him.”

  My eyes shifted up, and I felt like she was poking at something. “He’s been working out.”

  She lifted an eyebrow at me. “I see. Does he normally work out in the woods?”

  My head whipped toward her. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  She stared at me for a moment. “I saw him coming out of the woods the other night. He was very nonchalant about it.”

  I snapped my finger and pointed at her. “Yes, he goes for runs in the woods sometimes. He says it clears his head.”

  That wasn’t exactly a lie—it just wasn’t the whole truth. I looked at the clock on the wall and then down at my phone, wondering how long it would take to get my grandmother completely set up. I didn’t want to rush it or anything, but I was starting to go a little stir crazy in the hospital. I stood up and grabbed my wallet. “I’m gonna go get a cup of coffee. Do you want anything?”

  My grandmother shook her head. As I turned to walk away, she reached out and grabbed my wrist. I looked back at her curiously. “I know you’ve lived in a world that’s hard for anyone else to understand, and the only reason you do is because you’ve been there since you were a child. But I want you to know, gone or not, I’m still one of them. And if you ever need my help, I don’t want you to hesitate to call me. I’ve never been upset with you. And I never will be. You can trust me.”

  I gave her a smile and a nod, letting her know that I completely understood. She smiled back at me and patted me on the arm. With my wallet in my hand, I walked out of the room and down the hallway, making my way to the cafeteria. It was hard to tell whether my grandmother knew about Brighton being a wolf or not, but she definitely knew there was something not quite right about the situation. The thing was, it wasn’t
my secret to tell, not unless it was life or death. I really hoped it never came to that.

  22

  Brighton

  “So, what you’re saying is, your grandmother was pretty much trying to dabble in all the major health issues that people face every day, while still doing her normal stuff,” I said into my phone as I sat down on my bed.

  Lily chuckled. “Yeah, something like that. All I know is she’s definitely feeling better because she’s giving everyone a hard time, and apparently, she’s telling stories about a nightlife that she doesn’t actually have. At some point, I think she said something about monkeys, and then I heard the word showgirls.”

  I tilted my head back and laughed. “That’s fantastic. I can’t wait to hear the rumors tomorrow. The whole town will be up in arms.”

  Lily sounded less than enthused. “I’m sure that’s exactly why she did it. So, what did you do after you left?”

  I looked down at my hands, realizing that I hadn’t gotten all the dirt out from underneath my fingernails. It was really annoying that whatever dirt was caught underneath my wolf’s claws ended up in my fingernails when I shifted. “When I left the hospital, I went into the woods and shifted into my wolf. I searched out my brothers’ scents, and I headed over to the home base that they’ve set up. They taught me how to open my mind to let other wolves in so that I can talk back and forth with them, and then I trained.”

  “What did training consist of?” she asked, sounding worried.

  “Some fighting tactics with my brother,” I said nonchalantly. “Apparently I did really well for it being my first time. I think by the end, my wolf and I were really getting it. But I need it to move along faster.”

  “Why?” she asked. “You don’t need to rush anything. You have some sort of end goal?”

  I stood up and walked over to the mirror, looking at how broad my chest was. It had definitely changed since I had been scratched. “I guess you could say an end goal. The problem is, the dark wolves are getting stronger, and we need to strike at the very heart of them in order to send them back into the shadows. I told my brothers that I was ready. I want to fight. They’re just going to continue to get stronger, and the longer I wait, the harder it will be. I want to help find the pack leader and take him down. There are far too many people that I care deeply about, people that could be hurt or harmed by these wolves. As soon as they started talking about it, I knew—this was the meaning of my gift. It was the cosmic reason I ended up scratched. But my brothers don’t agree with me. They said I need to complete the whole training before they let me fight with them. They made me make a pack promise, in front of all the other pack members.”

  “I’m not gonna lie, I’m not fond of you suddenly thinking that you need to be the one to save the world,” Lily said. “The dark wolves are stronger and fiercer than you know…” She cleared her throat nervously. “What I mean is, from what you’ve told me about them, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were savage beasts and that your brothers were right, you needed to be fully trained before attacking.”

  My brow furrowed, finding it strange, yet again, that Lily knew so much about the wolves. She talked about the dark wolves with absolute certainty, only wavering after she had spoken without thinking. “Lily…”

  There was a crash in the background and Lily sighed deeply. “I’m sorry, Brighton, I’m going to have to call you back. Actually, why don’t we do this? Meet me at the bar in a couple of hours. We will get some food and talk. My grandmother is getting dressed right now and I’ll be able to get her home and in bed. As soon as I’m there, I’ll text you and then we can meet an hour later at the bar.”

  I let go of the need to ask more questions, knowing that Lily had her plate full. “That sounds great. Be safe, and tell your grandmother I said I hope she feels better.”

  I chuckled as I hung up, hearing Lily scolding her grandmother in the background. There was some sort of incident with the tongue depressors, apparently. I put the phone down on the dresser and stared at myself in the mirror again. I knew that everybody was worried about me. I knew that everybody wanted to keep me safe, but I hated the idea of sitting by and letting the dark wolves do what they wanted to do while I played around in the circle in the middle of the woods with other wolves. In my mind, the best kind of training would be actual combat.

  I grabbed some clothes and put them on, slipping my feet in my boots, and headed over to the main part of the house. My father was away on business, and I really didn’t feel like going anywhere until it was time to meet up with Lily. I figured I could make a sandwich in the kitchen at least.

  Inside, I walked past my father’s study and paused, backing up and going inside. I was pretty sure it was the first time I’d ever been in there by myself. I walked along the shelves, looking at all the pictures and knickknacks my father had collected over the years. I stopped at the shelf right behind his desk and picked up a picture of my mother with her three boys, her beautiful smile radiating through the picture frame. I ran my finger over her face, feeling a twinge of pain in my heart.

  My mother loved us so very much. Everything that she did after Christian was born was for us. I could remember the feeling of my mother being so proud of me because of some picture I drew or something I built without my brothers’ help. I longed to have that feeling again. I wanted my mother to be proud of me. I wanted to feel that I was brave and strong just like Christian and Eric.

  My whole life I had been running two steps behind them, but I finally felt that I was on the same page. In my wolf form, I was just as strong, if not stronger than both of them. What would’ve happened if I had been turned into a wolf first? Would Christian still have come in and taken over the lead? Would they still be trying to protect me so much that they were inhibiting my ability to really make a difference? I didn’t know the answers to any of those things, but what I did know was that I was tired of being pushed aside. They did it because they loved me, and I knew that, but that didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

  I put the picture back on the shelf and moved to the next, the one of my father and my mother the day they got married. My father held my mother’s hand so tightly in his, and I could see it in his eyes how much he truly loved her. I was getting the feeling that I was starting to understand exactly how that felt. To have somebody that just gets you. To have somebody that wants the best for you, but doesn’t stand in your way. To want to protect someone so much that you would put your own life on the line, and not even blink.

  With the attachment and connection that I had to Lily, my father’s pain when my mother died felt almost crippling to me. I hadn’t even been with Lily for the length of time that my father and mother were together, but I felt like if anything happened to her, it would break me. I began to feel guilty about the times that I wished my father would just move on with his life after my mother died. The times when I was angry at him for not participating when we tried to include him in things. It became very clear to me that despite his difficult personality, my brothers and I were what kept him around. We gave him a reason to go on without my mother, and he did the best he could.

  In my opinion, he did a hell of a job. He was there when it was most important, he taught us the things we needed to know, and he was always supportive of us. Anything that we needed, even though he might give us a lecture for it, he was there to provide. There was nothing in this world that my father wouldn’t do for any of us, and all the while, that ache inside of him remained. I understood now that he had never moved on from my mother; he just learned how to handle the pain a little bit better so that he could still smile at jokes and hold conversations with his sons. I couldn’t imagine the pain would ever go away, not until he passed away too.

  I moved down the line of shelves, making my way to the tall, glass cabinet that held the plethora of trophies that my brothers and I had collected over the years. There were fifteen years of baseball trophies, ten years of trophies from soccer, awards from art events, prints of
Eric’s first award-winning photograph, and an enormous scrapbook of all the newspaper clippings since he started working at the paper as a photographer. My father kept a pair of scissors at the kitchen table and every time he opened the paper in the morning, if he saw something by Eric, he clipped it out and eventually put it in the book.

  I knew it wasn’t something that he did for himself, but he knew that my mother would’ve done it and he liked to keep up those little things. I squatted down at the bottom row, the shelf with the oldest trophies. All three brothers had a section, Eric’s being the thinnest, considering he really didn’t like to play sports. I had played some version of everything at some point in my childhood. There was a two-year disaster of me trying to play hockey, basketball, soccer, and then most recently, my years playing baseball for the town’s team.

  I was never really that good at sports, but I tried and that was what was most important to my father. The only thing I decided not to do was football. The thought of the bigger kids barreling me over in the middle of a muddy field was not very enticing to me. I narrowed my eyes, looking through the glass and seeing the shimmer of my Little League trophy sitting near the back of the case. I chuckled, remembering the day that I got that. It was pouring rain, about 70° outside, and I had the flu, but I insisted on playing the game anyway. I hit a home run but as I went around the bases, I tripped and fell in a puddle, knocking out my front tooth on the shoe of the second baseman. There was a trail of blood in the puddles all the way around the bases because I refused to stop until I hit home base.

  When the game was over, I did not want to go to the dentist until I had gotten my trophy. My father, understanding the importance of why I desperately needed to do it, stuffed my mouth full of cotton, cleaned me off the best he could, and took me in there in a blood-soaked jersey. The other kids thought I was a bad-ass, and they cheered me on as I held my trophy in the air. It was probably the only moment that I had in all of my athletic endeavors where someone was cheering for me.

 

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