by Brenda Trim
“Yes, it is. I made muffins. I didn’t know you’d be home, or I’d have made a roast and potatoes for dinner. I’ll bake whatever you want. Just name it,” his mom replied as Zane set her on the floor. “And, where have you been? We’ve been worried sick,” she added and proceeded to gather items from the refrigerator and cupboards.
“Not all of us were worried,” his dad countered with a wink. “I told you, Suzanne. Our son’s a big boy now. He can take care of himself.”
“I know, but would it kill you to call? Your text messages were so vague,” she scolded.
“He was probably at some brothel,” interjected a soft voice, and Zane turned to see his grandmother shuffle into the room. She was wearing her favorite slippers, which were two big shark heads. They were way too big for her small frame, but she didn’t care. She loved them, and insisted they bury her in them when she passed.
“Mama G,” Zane greeted and gently hugged the petite woman. Her name was Gladys and when Zane was born, she refused to be called grandmother. Also she wouldn’t stand for granny, nanny or anything remotely associated with the elderly term. Thus, she was dubbed Mama G. “You know I don’t waste my time or money on those places,” he corrected with a shake of his head.
“Are you gay, Zaney? I have yet to see you with a woman, and I know they throw themselves at you,” his grandmother said as she reached up and patted his cheek. “Those money-hungry floozies probably toss panties at you when you walk down the street,” she added. Zane couldn’t help but laugh. Mama G had no filter, and one never knew what would fly out of her mouth next.
“No, Mama G, I’m not gay,” he sighed. “And, no one has been good enough to match the likes of you,” he admitted and placed a kiss on her cheek.
“Good point. This is why you’re the lawyer in the family,” his grandmother confessed as she pointed her finger up at him. She then turned and made her way to the kitchen table and sat down beside his father.
“Where’s Papa Sam?” Zane asked, referring to his grandfather.
“He’s taking his third nap of the day, the lazy bastard,” Mama G blurted with a laugh. “So, tell us where you’ve been hiding, if not between the legs of some harlot,” she said with a wave of her hand.
Zane shook his head and glanced at his mom. She rolled her eyes as she swirled a spoon in a large mixing bowl. His dad chuckled but didn’t look up from his card game.
“I was in Tennessee. Chattanooga to be exact,” he replied and leaned against the kitchen counter.
“Whatever for?” his mom asked as she poured the contents of the bowl into three cake pans. If Zane wasn’t mistaken, she was whipping up her famous strawberry cake.
Zane carefully considered his next words. He wasn’t sure how they would react to his involvement in the shifter case. “I went there for a murder case,” he relayed and reached over and swiped his finger through the leftover batter. His mom quickly swatted his hand away but not before he scooped a taste.
“I thought your caseload was full here. Why go all the way to Chattanooga?” his dad piped in. He didn’t appear to be listening to the conversation, but Zane knew better. His dad absorbed every word that was said.
“This case was unique. Erika Pittman was on trial for murder, but the truth was she protected a man from being murdered,” he explained.
“Is Erika Superwoman?” Mama G interrupted. “Why did a man need her protection?”
“You could say she’s Superwoman. She’s a shifter.”
The room immediately fell silent. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at Zane like he was an alien from outer space.
“Why in the world would you get involved with them, Zane?” His mother finally blurted. Zane noticed his mother’s flushed neck and chest. She was not comfortable with him helping shifters, which made no sense to him. They carried shifter genes in their blood. It didn’t matter if it was from their ancestors.
“Because it was the right thing to do, Mom. They need someone to fight for their rights. It’s reprehensible how shifters are treated,” Zane told his family, revealing how he felt about the situation in the process. They needed to know where he stood on the issue.
“Let someone else come to their rescue, Zane. This is not an issue you want to get involved with,” his dad advised and set down his stack of cards as he pinned Zane with a glare.
“I can’t do that. The pack leader Lawson Scott, has asked me to return. I can live with them until I find a place of my own. It’s unstable in Chattanooga, and someone needs to help shifters take a stand against existing laws. Someone who possesses my knowledge,” Zane admitted as he met his grandmother’s gaze. The most outspoken of the group had yet to say a word, and he wondered why.
“Please don’t go, Zane. We’ve lived our lives just fine until now. We don’t need this,” him mom pleaded as she dropped the spoon onto the counter. Her hands trembled and she nervously tugged at the chain around her neck.
“I thought you’d be proud of me taking a stand. It’s our heritage,” he countered as he locked gazes with each of his family members. How could they turn their backs on who they were? This was so uncharacteristic. Zane was raised to do the right thing, no matter the cost.
Tears sprang to his mom’s eyes right before she fled from the room. His dad quickly followed but not before he shot Zane a menacing glare. Zane looked to his grandmother and shrugged. “I don’t understand, Mama G. Your mother was a shifter. Wouldn’t you want me to defend them?”
She sat and stared at him for several seconds. Her warm brown eyes sparked with life and she smiled. “Yes, Zaney. I do want that. You know, I was forced to suppress my natural instincts because my mother loathed what she was. I was taught to hate shifters my entire life, but I never truly accepted that. At least, not in my heart. I will tell you what I wish I’d been told. And that is to follow your heart. Don’t let anyone tell you what or how you should feel. It scares me to think of what you might face, but if you don’t do this you’ll regret it for the rest of your days. Trust me. You don’t want to live your life that way.”
She stood from the table and walked to stand in front of Zane. “I don’t know what the future holds or if we’ll see each other again in this lifetime, but I’m certain we will meet again. I love you, Zaney. I for one, couldn’t be prouder of you,” she declared and wrapped her arms around his waist.
Zane wanted to tell her she was being silly. Of course, they’d see each other again. But something stirred deep inside, and told him this was one of the moments when words weren’t needed, so he held his grandmother tight and whispered, “I love you more, Mama G.”
He hadn’t decided if he was returning to Hollow Rock until his grandmother spoke. She’d obviously lived a long time full of regret and didn’t want him to follow in her footsteps. And, she was right. He’d never forgive himself if he didn’t go. The shifters needed him, and he owed it to his ancestors to fight for what they deserved.
Chapter 2
A loud ding inside the cab of his truck startled Zane. He’d been on autopilot for God only knew how long and was thankful an empty gas tank was his only concern. How was it he hadn’t crashed with another vehicle, given his preoccupation? He’d been driving for hours and hadn’t seen much of the road during that time.
His mind was all over the place, trying to come up with a plan of action regarding the shifters. He honestly had no idea where to start and was feeling the pressure. He didn’t want to fail them and wondered if he was in over his head.
And then there was Brenlee. The blonde bombshell had him all discombobulated. His mind wandered to the last time he saw her. It was at the scene of the fire on the property next to Safe Haven. He gave her a ride back to the hotel, and she seemed to be having a great time.
Zane recalled her laughter and how his heart had galloped in his chest when she’d tightened her arms around his waist. But when they had reached the hotel her attitude and disposition had changed. It had been as if she couldn’t get away fr
om him fast enough.
Zane shook off his thoughts and focused on the road. He glanced at the roadside sign, and noted gas was available at the next exit. He steered toward the farthest right-hand lane and took the exit ramp leading to the small gas station. He was in a remote area, about fifteen minutes from Hollow Rock and could have continued to the shifter hotel, but he remembered that this was the last chance to fill up before reaching Safe Haven. Not to mention that he was starving. Hopefully the convenient store had something decent to eat.
He pulled alongside one of the pumps and turned off his engine. He noted two other vehicles in front of his with three men exiting the cars. Zane climbed out of his truck and shivered as frigid air immediately slapped him in the face.
Spring was nearing which had warmer temperatures heating the day, but late afternoons and evenings remained cold. He considered grabbing his jacket out of the passenger seat but decided against it. He huddled into his hoodie and headed toward a store that looked like something out of an old western movie.
The wood was weathered and gray, and the small porch and stairs didn’t stand a chance against the next snowstorm that moved through the area. But the establishment had a certain charm. He was a huge history buff and noted that the place had to be over a hundred years old. Naturally he was curious about its history. He made a note to Google the place later and see what he could find out about the area. Not only did he love learning about places and their pasts, but if he was going to be there for a bit it might be helpful to understand about the location.
As he approached the door leading into the store, he saw a handwritten sign nailed to the wood. It read Store Closed Until Further Notice. Credit Cards Only For Gas Pumps. Sorry For the Inconvenience.
That was odd. Then again, maybe it was family-owned, and there was an emergency of sorts. He shrugged it off and turned back toward his truck. Hopefully, there was a fast food restaurant between there and Safe Haven. His stomach rumbled in agreement. Zane quickened his steps as a cool breeze sent a tremor down his spine. As he neared his vehicle, Zane couldn’t help but overhear a heated conversation between the other men.
“I told you. I just want to fill up then I’ll be on my way,” one of the men called out. Now that Zane was paying closer attention, he could see the guy was a shifter. He stood at least six-and-a-half feet tall and possessed the sharp facial features and oversized hands common to their kind.
“And, we told you to get the hell out of here. This place doesn’t cater to your kind,” barked a man who looked to be in his mid-fifties. He took a long drag of his cigarette then blew smoke in the shifter’s face.
“Which is why I’m trying to get out of this piece of shit town. The sooner the better,” the shifter retorted and reached for the pump nozzle.
“Are you deaf?” the third man accused and snatched the hose from the shifter’s hand. He was much younger than the other guy, and Zane guessed he was the man’s son. They had similar builds and identical cleft chins.
The shifter spun around and punched the younger man in the nose. Blood spurted from his nostrils and the guy yelled in pain. “Motherfucker, you’re going to pay for that!”
Before Zane could say something, a skirmish broke out between the three men. The older man punched the shifter in the gut, causing him to double over at the waist. Then the younger guy grabbed the shifter by the hair and kneed him in the face.
Zane rushed toward the brawl. “Let him go!” he shouted as he grabbed the younger guy by the arm, pulling him away from the shifter.
“Mind your own fucking business!” the younger man shouted and jerked his arm out of Zane’s grasp.
The next thing Zane knew a fat fist flew toward his face and punched him in the jaw. His head exploded with pain upon impact and he stumbled backward. The guy wasn’t all that big, but damn if he didn’t pack a heavy punch.
When the younger man reached inside his boot and pulled out a knife, Zane quickly sobered. The atmosphere went from tense to life-threatening in the next pounding heartbeat. “Look, dude. You don’t want to do anything stupid. Is this really worth going to prison for?” Zane asked calmly, even though he could feel his heart hammering in his chest.
Before the guy could respond, a menacing growl rent the air. Zane turned to see a jet-black wolf crouched nearby. The shifter had released his inner animal, and the angry beast was ready to attack. It growled again, baring large canines, and Zane knew shit was about to go down if he didn’t do something.
“Guys, just stay calm and slowly walk back to your car. I think if the wolf knows you mean him no harm, we can all get out of here safely. No one needs to get hurt over a tank of gas,” Zane explained as he stared at the large creature.
He’s known about shifters all his life but had never seen one shift. He couldn’t believe the size of the animal. It reminded Zane of a mountain lion, with enormous paws and thick, lustrous fur.
“Fuck that!” The younger guy yelled. “I’ll gut that motherfucker and mount its head on my wall.”
Without hesitation, the wolf charged toward the man. It leapt into the air and landed on the guy’s chest, shoving him to the ground. The animal latched onto the man’s throat, and its sharp teeth sunk into his flesh. A menacing growl left its throat as it pinned the guy to the ground.
Zane was in action before he knew it. He feared the wolf would kill the man and then he’d be in the middle of another murder case. And, this time the outcome might be different than Erika’s case. He didn’t want to see the shifter sent to prison, especially for killing an asshole.
Zane rushed toward the wolf and grabbed it around its broad shoulders. He’d never felt anything so muscular. It was like trying to wrestle a bull. Nothing but power and determination.
“Release him,” he gritted into the wolf’s ear. “You don’t need his blood on your hands.” Another growl left its throat, but the animal refused to let go. Zane could see a stream of blood running down the man’s neck, and the guy was gasping for air.
A loud blast sounded, and Zane turned to see the older guy pointing a shotgun in their direction. “You’ve got to the count of three to let go of my son,” the man threatened.
Zane scrambled to his feet and held his hands in the air. “Sir, I’m a lawyer, and I promise you don’t want to pull that trigger.
“One!” the man shouted and aimed the gun at the wolf. The animal didn’t budge. In fact, Zane could’ve sworn its teeth sunk deeper into the guy’s flesh.
“Two!” the older man counted and zeroed in on his target.
“Noooo!” Zane screamed, trying to divert the man’s attention.
“Three!” he barked, and the wolf released the younger guy’s throat, and bolted toward his vehicle.
The older guy pointed the gun toward the wolf and Zane darted in the line of fire just as a loud blast rent the air. Somehow the buckshot missed him and the wolf. Zane reached for the gun, trying to knock it from the guy’s hands. They ended up in a tug-of-war match with the shotgun, and Zane prayed it didn’t go off during their struggle.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the wolf shift back to human form. It was so fast and fluid he almost missed it. The shifter was naked as a newborn baby and scurried toward his vehicle. Zane was relieved to see him reach for the door handle. At least he escaped unharmed. Now, Zane just needed to figure out his own getaway. Surely, the man didn’t want to hurt him. After all, he was human like them.
Zane released his hold of the shotgun, and before he could say anything, searing pain shot through his side. He looked down to see a knife lodged in his flesh. The younger guy yanked the blade from his flesh and leered at Zane.
“Next time, I suggest you mind your own business,” he snarled, and Zane nearly gagged from his fetid breath.
Another shot echoed, followed by a painful yell. Zane looked over his shoulder to see the shifter laying naked on the ground by his car. The older man walked toward the shifter and shot him in the chest as he towered over him. Zane had no
doubt the shot was lethal and his heart broke when he realized the shifter was dead.
“Why?” Zane shouted. “He didn’t do anything wrong. All he wanted was to get some gas and leave. Why did you have to kill him?” he lashed out at the men as he cradled his side.
“We gotta send a message to them shifters. Stay out of our town, or else,” the older man spat. “C’mon Junior, let’s get out of here,” he ordered his son and walked toward their vehicle.
“And, I suggest you keep your mouth shut about this. If you don’t, we’ll find you, and I’ll bury my blade in your fucking skull,” he muttered in a low voice then stalked to the vehicle.
Zane hobbled to his truck, applying pressure to his wound. He opened the door and grunted as he climbed into the cab. Blood was pouring from the gash in his side, and he needed to stop the bleeding. But first, he wanted to jot down their license plate. He reached into the glove compartment and grabbed a pad of paper and a pen then scribbled down the number as the other car drove away. He didn’t know if it would prove helpful, but it was worth a shot.
Snatching a towel from the back seat, Zane pressed the cloth to his injury. He glanced to the shifter lying on the ground, contemplating what he should do. He couldn’t leave him there. Hopefully, Lawson would know.
He hissed in a breath as he hopped out of his truck and walked toward the dead man. It was gruesome to see a man lying in a pool of blood. The only time he’d seen a dead body was when he’d attended a funeral. This was very different. The shifter had been walking and breathing only minutes ago.
Pain wracked his body as he bent down and picked up the shifter. Thank God Zane was a big man or there was no way he could’ve lifted the dead weight. The shifter’s lifeless eyes stared up at him, and Zane considered leaving him behind. It was haunting as hell and sent a shiver down his spine. But if the roles were reversed, he’d want someone to take him to his family.
Zane placed the shifter in the back seat then climbed into the cab of his truck. He glanced at his knife wound and was shocked to see the blood flow had slowed. Maybe he wouldn’t have to make a trip to the emergency room, after all.
