by Sky Winters
“There’s our older brother,” said Ian, walking around the deck chairs where Clyde and Atticus sat, taking position leaning against the wooden railing in front of them, blocking their view.
Ian was the opposite of Clyde in just about every way. Where Clyde was tall and brawny, with an open and warm personality, and interests that tended to veer towards the physical, Ian was a slighter, leaner man with a sharp intellect and a mind more inclined towards the cerebral. He had the same sandy-blonde hair as the other brothers, his pin-straight, grown to shoulder length and tucked behind his ears. His features were just as handsome as the other men, though his were sharper and leaner, cheekbones pronounced and high, his hazel eyes narrow, giving him an expression of constant skepticism. Ian was wearing a tight, gray t-shirt that showed off his ropey, slim musculature, and a pair of jeans that fit his legs snugly. His feet were bare and pale.
Roland, on the other hand, was all business. His sandy-blond hair was slicked back and had a sheen that gave it the appearance of being polished. He had the same wide jaw and rugged, handsome features as Atticus, but his expression was fixed and serious. His shoulders were wide and square, and his solid, muscular physique marked him as a man who attended to his health and appearance with the same serious-minded focus that he applied to every other facet of his life, including the finances of the pack. He was in charge of making sure that their money was wisely invested, and that the maintenance of the compound was always attended to. He was dressed in a simple white button-up shirt and pair of black slacks, his feet in a pair of black, stylish slip-ons.
“And your younger one, too,” said Clyde, almost sounding hurt by his brothers not giving him the same warm welcome as Atticus.
“Of course,” said Roland as Clyde rose to his feet. “Welcome back.”
The brothers greeted one another briefly, followed by a quick hug between Ian and Clyde.
“I’m glad you’re both here,” said Atticus, resting his beer on his flat stomach. “We have matters to discuss.”
“I hope this doesn’t involve another slumber party at your crush’s house,” said Ian.
Atticus shot him a narrow-eyed look.
“No, Ian. This is about the meth operation in the area.”
“Go on,” said Roland, preparing to pay close attention.
“Well, as we already knew, Lucas Henderson is a high-up the Bear Mountain meth scene. And I actually had an appointment with Tessa Henderson this afternoon. Turns out that they’ve split for one reason or another.”
“No doubt she found out about her husband’s involvement with the drug scene,” said Roland, folding his hands in front of him.
“Or she walked in on him fucking one of the strung-out teenagers he can’t seem to keep away from,” said Ian.
“I’m thinking both,” said Atticus. “I talked to her about it, briefly, and she was cagey. Cagier than if she had just found out that he was cheating. I got the impression she was dealing with something that she wasn’t expecting in the slightest.”
“And the reason you were over there?” asked Ian, a sly smile crossing his red lips.
“An appointment, like I said. Lucas did cut the power to her place, after all.”
“Something tells me that wasn’t the only need of hers you were attending to,” said Ian.
“That’s enough,” said Atticus, shutting him down.
“Wait, what?” asked Clyde. “A girl? Does this mean you’re finally getting married?”
Atticus held up his hand, getting the brothers back on topic.
“It means that she’s likely to be a way to get closer to Lucas. Maybe with her on our side, we can finally get at him. And if we were able to do something about him, it might be just the thing to turn the tide on the meth gangs in the area. Not to mention that if he’s willing to sneak up to her place at night and cut her power and water, who knows what else he’d be willing to do. Especially since she now knows what kind of business he’s involved in.”
“True,” said Roland. “Meth doesn’t exactly lead to ‘cooler heads prevailing’ types of situations.”
“Did any of you see anything in the woods?” asked Atticus.
“That’s what we want to tell you about,” said Roland. “We found another abandoned trailer out there, not too far from town. No drugs. But the, ah, chefs left plenty of ingredients behind.”
“Chemicals just leaking into the ground,” said Ian.
“That’s terrible,” said Clyde. “Who would do something like that?”
“Assholes who don’t care about anything other than making money,” said Ian.
“They need to be eliminated, that’s for sure,” said Roland. “Even if we didn’t care about the harm they’re inflicting on the community, it’s only a matter of time before they wreck the environment in the area.”
“Not to mention, they do something to Tessa,” said Ian.
“Hey, you guys don’t have to sell me on this,” said Atticus.
“I say we just shift at night, go to that house on the other side of town and tear the place apart,” said Ian.
“That’d be a temporary solution at best,” said Roland.
“Right,” said Atticus. “Not considering how they outnumber us, unless we get the leadership to help, we know they’ll just reform and get right back to it.”
“You can say a lot about meth users,” said Roland. “But a lack of focus isn’t one of them.
“Fine,” said Ian. “What’s the next step, then?”
“Next step is we make sure that nothing happens to Tessa, just like we’ve been doing,” said Atticus. “Aside from it being the right thing to do, she might just be the key to getting this problem solved.”
“And maybe you can finally pick up a bride in the process,” said Ian.
Atticus shot him a dirty look.
The tradition of the black bear shifters was that the Alpha of the tribe, typically the oldest male, would be the first to find a bride. Once he was married, the rest of the men of the tribe would follow suit. Atticus, by preferring to stay single, had put something of a strain on the rest of the pack. Ever since his 35th year, the age when the Alpha of the pack was expected to wed, Atticus’s brothers had been putting a fair amount of pressure on him to settle down and find a mate. And now that his 40th birthday was drawing nearer and nearer, this pressure had been becoming less and less subtle.
“But for now,” said Atticus, “we just keep an eye on Tessa.”
“Fine,” said Ian, his body tensing, telegraphing to Atticus that while he would obey his Alpha, he didn’t care for sitting around.
Silence fell over the brothers as they watched the sun set over Bear Mountain. Atticus let himself slide further back into his chair, the subtle buzz from the beer weaving through his body. However, the phone ringing from where he left it on the kitchen counter snapped him out of his relaxed state. Setting his beer down on the wood floor of the deck, he trotted into the kitchen and picked up his phone. Looking at the display, he saw that it was a number that he didn’t recognize.
“Hello?”
“Hey, is this Atticus?” asked the voice on the other end. It was a woman’s voice- a familiar woman’s voice.
“It is. Who’s this.”
“It’s Tessa. Are you free to talk?”
CHAPTER 12
Tessa drove her car down the road heading to the center of Branlen, her headlights cutting through the pitch darkness that surrounded her. She drove with more care down the sloping, winding road, as tough Lucas and his cronies might jump from the shadows at any moment.
She called Atticus on a whim. Tessa realized that she barely knew the man, but between the feeling of unease that being alone at her house instilled in her, and the fact that she felt strangely comfortable and safe around him, she knew that she wanted to spend more time with him. So, dialing his number, she asked him to meet her at Hannagan’s for a drink and was pleased- not to mention, relieved- when he agreed.
The soft glow o
f the town lights appeared down at the end of the road, and after a few more minutes of driving, Tessa was in the center of town. She drove the last bit of distance to Hannigan’s and scanned the parking lot as she drove in. The lot seemed bare and she couldn’t spot Atticus’s work truck- the only cars there were a handful of older-model trucks and sedans. She slid her car into an open spot and headed into the bar.
Hannagan’s was fairly dead, which wasn’t uncommon for a weekday night. Having her choice of places to sit, she slid into an open spot at the bar, Julianne arriving moments later with her usual smile on her face.
“Well, look who it is,” Julianne said, tossing a coaster onto the bar in front of Tessa.
“Hey, Jules,” said Tessa.
“Still no Lucas?” Julianne asked, pouring Tessa a pint of her usual.
“No,” she said, realizing that she was about to meet Atticus here and that wouldn’t be the best look. “I’m, ah, meeting the electrician who did some repair work today. It, uh, turns out he’s a pretty good artist and he’s going to give me some tips on getting more of my art sold.”
Julianne looked at her with a lowered-eyelid, skeptical expression.
“Hey, no judgements here, girl. I’m on husband number three, remember?” she said, holding up her left hand and pointing to the ring on it. “Henry told me some name he has for it.”
She turned to Henry, who was pouring a line of whiskey shots for a group of construction workers.
“Henry! What’s that thing you called people cheating on each other?” she yelled, Tessa’s face turning a deep shade of red. “That French thing.”
“Luh comedy humaine.”
“Yeah, that,” said Julianne. “Kinda means, people cheat, people break up; it’s just how people are, you know?”
“Oh, OK,” said Tessa. “I’m not doing any of that, though.”
“Sure, sure,” said Julianne with a wink before leaving Tessa with her beer.
But before Tessa had a chance to think about the conversation she just had, Atticus walked into the bar.
Since their encounter earlier in the day, Tessa had been debating whether or not she should’ve done what she did. But seeing him again, in the flesh, Tessa knew that she made the right decision.
He nodded at her with a small uptick of his chin, walked towards where she sat, and slid into the open seat next to her.
“Hello, again,” he said.
“Hey,” said Tessa.
Julianne walked up to them once more.
“Whiskey, please,” said Atticus.
“You got it,” said Julianne, making no effort to hide the eye-fucking she was giving Atticus.
A moment later, she returned with a small glass of brown liquid.
“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be hearing from you anytime soon,” he said, taking a sip of his drink.
“Oh, yeah?” asked Tessa, curious as to why he would think that.
“Mhmm,” he said. “Like I said, you’re not my first married woman, let alone the first woman who was, well, taken. Those types tend to have changes of heart about screwing around that are…sudden, to say the least.”
“Well, before you flatter yourself too much, the main reason I called you was because I didn’t really feel safe at the house. What, with my husband and his friends sabotaging the place.”
“That’s definitely something to worry about,” said Atticus. “Why not just head out of town for a few days?”
“Nowhere I could go, really. Parents are dead, no brothers or sisters, the closest couch I can crash on is in Idaho. Besides, I’d rather just get this thing over than flee the state, you know?”
“I can understand that.”
Tessa shook her head.
“Enough of this crap,” she said. “I just told you about my family, what about yours? You got any brothers or sisters? Parents?”
“No parents. But definitely brothers.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Three of them. And we all live together.”
Tessa raised her eyebrows.
“Really?” she asked, her beer near her mouth.
“Yep. All up on Bear Mountain; the other direction from town than your place.”
“Sounds cramped.”
“It’s not bad. We have a lot of family money and my brother Ronald is a whiz with investments, so we’re able to swing a pretty big pad up there. We can go the whole day without bumping into one another.”
“Wow, sounds a lot nicer than my little shack.”
“Oh, give yourself some credit- that’s a nice little cabin you have up there.”
“It’s cramped.”
“It’s…cozy.”
Tessa smiled and took a sip of her beer.
“Why do people always say ‘cozy’ when they want to say ‘unbearably tiny?’”
Atticus matched her smile with one of his own, showing off his perfect teeth.
“Because it sounds nicer.”
Tessa let out a laugh, and looking down, she saw that her and Atticus’s legs had moved closer together, nearly touching.
They passed the evening chatting and drinking, the conversation light and easy. They asked each other questions, getting to know each other better, though with Atticus eliding the small detail about him being a bear shifter, and Tessa avoiding the topic of just what she had found out about Lucas, just what he had gotten himself into. The hours passed, and Tessa found herself enjoying talking with Atticus; she found him charming enough that she was able to put thoughts of just how crazy her life had become out of her mind, at least for the time being. Taking a look at her phone, her eyes widened in surprise when she realized how much time had passed- it was nearly midnight.
“Shit,” she said. “I should be getting back.”
“Same here,” said Atticus, looking at his own phone.
Then his eyebrows lowered in thought for a brief moment as he considered the danger of sending her back home by herself, knowing what he knew about Lucas.
“Let me follow you back to your place,” he said, tossing back the rest of his drink.
“Someone’s direct,” Tessa said, finishing her drink. She wasn’t planning on inviting him home, but as the night went on, it seemed like more and more attractive of a proposition. She figured she could go for round two.
“Not what I meant,” he said. “I really think you should get out of town for a few days, but if you’re insistent on staying at your place, I’d feel a lot better if I went back with you make sure there’s nothing to worry about.”
“That’s sweet, but I think I should be fine,” said Tessa, the alcohol doing its work on her confidence.
“If your husband’s fine with coming to your place in the middle of the night and cutting your power line, then who knows what he’s capable of.”
Tessa thought about it, and letting her rational mind kick in, she realized that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have a man make sure she got home safe.
“You know what? Sure, that actually would be nice.”
“Let’s hit it, then,” said Atticus.
The two killed their drinks, pushed out of their chairs and headed out of the bar. Tessa went to her car, and Atticus to his truck. As she pulled out of the parking lot, Atticus moved his truck close behind her.
The drive up to her cabin was uneventful and Tessa realized that she did feel better having Atticus follow her, making sure she was safe.
In his truck, Atticus made sure to not lose Tessa. Just as he told her, he was surprised that she seemed to be so eager to go home alone; he knew Lucas better than Tessa realized, and he knew just want kinds of people Lucas was now associating with. He thought about an occasion several months back, when he and the brothers came across another temporary lab, now long abandoned. As they prepared to clean the place up and dispose of everything as best they could, they noticed that there was a scent in the air that wasn’t the typical chemical smell that they encountered in the meth labs. And when Ian took a look inside of the traile
r, they discovered that there was more than just drug material in the trailer- there were the remnants of what appeared to be a deal gone wrong.
They made the final turns up to the house and as soon both pairs of headlights fell upon the house, they knew something was terribly wrong. Tessa parked her car and jumped out, Atticus close behind her.
The house was a wreck. The front door was kicked open, knocked completely off its hinges. Each window appeared to be smashed to shards and the front lawn was carved across with deep tire marks that ripped the grass out by the root, leaving muddy, brown tracks. The water pump wasn’t merely cut this time, it was crumpled in, as if a car had driven into it. The cheerful plants that lined the front of the house were stomped and ripped.
“Wait!” Atticus shouted, as Tessa ran headlong into the home.
Seeing that she wasn’t going to stop, he chased her in, his body sensing danger and preparing to shift. Tessa disappeared into the darkness of the house and Atticus followed her in. But first, he took a look at the electrical main and saw that, like the water tank, it wasn’t simply crushed- it was wrecked beyond repair.
Tessa looked over the inside of the home, tears welling in her eyes as she surveyed the damage. The kitchen was a disaster, all of the plates and glasses smashed across the floor. Throughout the interior the walls were crisscrossed with red slashes of spray paint and smashed in here and there with what appeared to her to be impacts from a baseball bat. The TV was turned over and smashed, and the couch looked to have been cut with knives or razors.
“The house…” said Tessa, looking over the damage.
Atticus, now standing at her side, wrapped his arm around her shoulder. But before she could feel comforted by him, a flash of realization struck Tessa. With quick steps, her phone flashlight in her hand, her dashed to her studio.
To her horror, she saw that every piece of art, including the one that she was currently working on, was slashed in the same way that the furniture had been. But in addition to this, each piece was covered with different colors of spray paint and topped with smears of her own paint, as though whoever did this took special pleasure at ruining her art.
