4. Remy
Chapter 4
Remy
I lingered on the bench in the small park square, pretending to wait for my supposed “friend.” I kept glancing toward the street, watching for Colton’s truck.
The second I saw the taillights disappear down the road, I exhaled a shaky breath. Finally.
Standing, I shoved my hands into my pockets and started walking. Not too fast—not enough to attract attention.
Keeping where I was headed out of sight felt crucial. The idea of Colton seeing my car, my license plate, and figuring out where I came from wasn’t a chance I was willing to take.
They hadn’t pieced everything together yet—Ethan and Colton, I mean—but I couldn’t be sure how much longer that would last.
I’d overheard them earlier while I pretended to sleep in the clinic. They knew I was from a pack that attended the summit a few weeks ago. That much was obvious.
But as long as they didn’t connect me to Thornebane, I’d be fine. I’d stay fine. Going back wasn’t an option.
The walk to my car was a long one—out past the edge of Pecan Pines, where the quiet nature reserve stretched into a dense line of trees.
It had taken me weeks to figure out this place even existed.
Back when I first got here, I’d parked anywhere I thought I could get away with—quiet streets, abandoned lots, even outside a couple of 24-hour supermarkets. But none of it ever lasted.
A few times, someone would knock on the window late at night, telling me I couldn’t park there. My heart had nearly stopped every time.
Other nights, I’d stay up until dawn, terrified someone might break in.
It was sheer luck I found the Pecan Ridge Nature Reserve. Tucked far enough out of town to be quiet, but not so far that it felt completely isolated.
I’d been parking here for a while now, shifting spots every few days to avoid raising suspicion.
The thought of losing this place—of someone stealing the car or, worse, towing it—kept me on edge every second I wasn’t here.
When I reached the gravel lot, my breath hitched. There it was, still exactly where I’d left it.
I circled the car, scanning every inch of it. The doors were still locked, no shattered glass, no dents or scratches that weren’t there before.
The tires were intact, and the mirrors hadn’t been torn off. I peered under the hood latch, just to make sure no one had messed with anything.
Not that I was much of a mechanic, but I’d know if something was missing.
It was fine. Everything was fine. I let out a long breath, my shoulders sagging with relief.
“You’re lucky, you know.”
The voice startled me, and I whipped around.
A man in a dark green uniform jogged toward me, waving. His face was lined with age, but his movements were brisk and easy, like someone who spent his days outdoors.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you,” he said, stopping a few feet away. “You’re the owner of this car, right?”
I hesitated. “Yeah... Why?”
“Been keeping an eye on it.” He nodded toward the lot. “Saw it sitting here for a couple of days. Figured you’d come back eventually.”
I blinked, unsure what to say.
“Don’t worry,” he added quickly. “I didn’t touch it. Just made sure no one else did either. We get the occasional troublemaker around here—kids thinking it’s funny to mess with parked cars. But this one’s been left alone.”
For a moment, I just stared at him. People didn’t do things like this. Not for me. Not without a catch.
“Thanks,” I managed, the word sticking in my throat. “I... really appreciate it.”
He gave a quick shrug. “Just doing my job. Anyway, if you’re sticking around, make sure to move it now and then. Rangers don’t like it when cars overstay their welcome.”
“I will,” I said, nodding.
He tipped his hat and turned, heading back toward the main path. I watched him go, still trying to make sense of it.
Someone actually looked out for me—not because they had to, but just because they wanted to. It was weird, almost like getting a glimpse of something I’d stopped hoping for.
When he was out of sight, I crouched by the front tire. My hands felt around beneath the car, searching until my fingers closed around the bundle of clothes I’d hidden there.
It wasn’t the best hiding spot, but it worked. Whenever I shifted—or managed to—I’d tuck my clothes somewhere nearby, hoping they’d still be there when I came back.
Unfolding my jeans, I found the keys still in the pocket, right where I’d stashed them. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and unlocked the car.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, I shut the door and let my head fall back against the rest. It was over. For now.
The thought of dumpster diving again made my stomach turn. Not just because of the risk but because of how close I’d come to being caught—or worse.
Colton had found me. Not someone else. And while that should’ve been comforting, it wasn’t entirely. I still wasn’t sure if I could trust him.
But if it had been another shifter... My hands clenched against the steering wheel.
Would they have dragged me back to Thornebane? Or worse, handed me over to someone even more dangerous?
And if it had been a human?
My mind raced through the possibilities: a trip to the pound, locked in a kennel until I could shift again, or worse, someone calling the Pecan Pines pack to deal with me.
The idea of being brought in front of their alpha was enough to send a shiver down my spine.
No. I couldn’t let myself think about that.
Colton had found me. He’d helped me, even if I didn’t understand why. That had to count for something.
A low vibration jolted me from my thoughts. For a moment, I sat frozen, trying to locate the source.
My phone.
Cursing under my breath, I reached around, patting the car seat and the dashboard, half-expecting the buzzing to stop before I found it.
Finally, I dug it out of the pocket in my bundled jeans, its screen glowing faintly. The call ended just as I pulled it free.
I frowned. Glad I didn’t manage to pick up. Not that I would’ve if I had.
There were several missed calls from Carter, the new lead alpha of the Thornebane pack, along with a string of messages. I scrolled through the notifications.
Missed Call
Carter (3)
Message Notifications:
Carter: Remy, please call me back.
Carter: I'm worried about you.
Carter: Just let me know you’re okay.
The words blurred together as I swiped the screen closed, throwing the phone onto the passenger seat.
I wasn’t there when Carter took over. Didn’t know how it happened, didn’t ask anyone for details.
I’d avoided my “pack mates” during the summit, blending into the background, doing my best to stay unnoticed. That part was easy.
The pack barely noticed me on the best of days. I wasn’t worth noticing. Not to them. But it hadn’t always been this way.
As a pup, things were fine. The pack took me in when I lost my parents, and for a while, I believed I belonged.
But everything changed when I hit the age when young wolves were supposed to shift for the first time.
For most, it marked a milestone, something to celebrate. For me, it was the start of everything falling apart.
The first time I managed to shift, it felt like my body was tearing itself apart—every bone snapping, every muscle stretching in ways it wasn’t meant to.
And when the pain finally stopped, I was left trembling and half-formed, barely a wolf.
The others tried to help at first—or pretended to. They pushed me to shift again and again and again, and each time was worse than the last.
The pain didn’t lessen. It got sharper, deeper, until I dreaded even the thought of trying.
The pity didn’t last long.
“Barely a shifter,” they’d say. “Barely a wolf.”
Those words stayed with me. They weren’t meant to be kind.
After that, the pack stopped trying. Stopped seeing me as part of them, like I had become invisible. Wolves who used to talk to me now avoided my gaze.
When I walked into a room, conversations quieted, and wolves shifted uneasily, like I carried some sort of curse.
I stopped trying, too.
It was honestly a miracle I was allowed to come along to the summit, but I guess they always need someone to boss around at these things.
I did my part—made sure everything ran smoothly for the pack, kept things efficient, and stayed out of the way when I wasn’t needed. By the last day, they didn’t even notice.
Though it still felt like I was leaving something behind, good riddance to them. I never looked back. But now, thanks to Colton and Ethan I was one step closer to being found.
I stared at my phone again, the weight of Carter’s messages pressing against my chest. A part of me—a small, stupid part—almost wanted to believe he cared.
But I couldn’t afford to think that way. Not now. Not ever.
I stared at the phone, the screen still lit with Carter’s messages.
My thumb hovered over the last one, a mix of worry and something that might’ve been hope—or guilt—twisting in my chest.
Carter: Things are changing now. Come back. It’ll be different. Please, Remy.
Different? Could I even trust that?
I scrolled back through the messages, re-reading Carter’s words. He hadn’t demanded to know where I was or sent anyone to track me down.
That was a good sign, I guessed. Or maybe it was because I wasn’t important enough to chase.
That thought cut deeper than I wanted to admit.
For a second—just a second—I wondered. What if he was sincere?
Carter had taken over as lead alpha during the summit, and from what I’d overheard, his rise hadn’t been easy. Maybe he really did want to make changes.
But then again, Carter had been there the whole time. He’d seen how they treated me. He hadn’t stopped it.
"Change." The word tasted bitter on my tongue. In a pack like Thornebane, change didn’t happen overnight.
It wasn’t just about who led it—it was the structure, the traditions, and the pack mates who’d always looked at me like I was a stain on their pride.
It didn’t matter who was in charge. I’d still be the wolf who couldn’t shift properly. Still the runt. Still invisible.
Going back wasn’t an option. Not now. Maybe not ever. So what now?
Pecan Pines wasn’t a perfect solution. I wasn’t sure it could even be a permanent one. But so far, I hadn’t been found out. Maybe I could stay. For a little longer, at least.
My thoughts drifted to Colton. The look in his eyes when he checked on me. Concern, maybe? Or something else I couldn’t quite name.
His hands, warm and steady, had lingered a moment longer than necessary when he was watching over me at the pack clinic.
There was something about him. Something that made me feel safe in a way I didn’t understand yet.
Could I trust him? My wolf said yes, even though my brain screamed at me to stay cautious.
The difference between Colton and Ethan—and anyone in Thornebane—was glaring. Colton and Ethan didn’t have to help me.
They didn’t know where I came from or why I was here, and they never pressed me for answers I wasn’t ready to give.
To them, it didn’t seem to matter. They just wanted to make sure I was okay—no strings, no judgment.
I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts.
Maybe it was okay to stay here, at least for now. I’d need more money if I wanted to leave anyway.
Living out of a car wasn’t exactly comfortable, and I’d have to plan carefully if I wanted to start fresh somewhere else.
Take it one step at a time, I reminded myself. Survive first, figure out the rest later.
* * *
I stood in front of Briggs Barbecue, the scent of smoked meat and spices wafting out every time the door swung open.
My stomach growled loudly. First, a free meal. Then, time to lay on the charm and ask for a favor.
I hadn’t meant to show up so soon. I told myself I needed a few days to think about it, to plan.
But somehow, here I was, standing on the restaurant’s doorstep on a Friday night. The crowd inside was the perfect excuse—a built-in distraction.
If I said something stupid, I could blame the noise.
Pushing through the door, I stepped inside. The place was just as busy as I’d hoped, packed with people laughing and talking over plates of food.
A waiter rushed past, barely sparing me a glance as he muttered, “Give me a moment.”
I recognized him. He was the guy who emptied the trash every night at the same time—the one who never accidentally dumped a trash bag on my head. Unlike Colton.
The memory made me chuckle, and I scanned the room, looking for him. Warm brown eyes had been stuck in my head since that night. I spotted him before I even realized it, weaving his way through the crowd, heading straight toward me.
Colton looked good—annoyingly good. His shirt fit snugly across his broad shoulders, the rolled-up sleeves revealing strong forearms dusted with flour or ash.
The scent of barbecue and woodsmoke clung to him, rich and grounding, but there was something else underneath it.
Something warm, something I couldn’t name but felt in my chest like a tug.
My wolf stirred, curious, and I felt my throat tighten in response. I turned my head, pretending to cough, desperate to bury whatever the hell that reaction was.
“Remy,” he said, grinning as he reached me. “You made it. How’s the head?”
I smirked, unable to resist. “Oh, you know, about as well as someone’s head feels after being hit with a hundred pounds of garbage.”
Colton blinked, then barked out a laugh. “Touché.”
I waved him off, hiding a small grin of my own. “I’m kidding. Your brother did a good job patching me up.”
Colton chuckled, his smile still lingering. “Glad to hear it.”
His eyes softened a little, and for a moment, I thought I caught a glimpse of something else there, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
I quickly glanced away, pretending to take in the bustling restaurant, trying to shake the unexpected feeling.
He shrugged casually, motioning to the busy kitchen behind him. “If you ever need another round of patching up, I’m pretty sure we can find a few more bandages lying around.”
I raised an eyebrow, amused. “And here I thought you’d try to get me to come back for a second helping of garbage.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Not quite. But you can come by anytime,” he said, his voice warm and steady. “Meal’s on me.”
I turned back to him, raising an eyebrow. “Actually... I was thinking about something else.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” I said, crossing my arms and trying to sound casual. “I want a job.”
His eyebrows shot up, surprised. “A job?”
I shrugged, leaning into the moment. “You did say I could come by anytime. Figured I’d take you up on it. Besides, how else am I supposed to eat for free without feeling guilty?”
Colton laughed again, shaking his head. “You’ve got a point.”
His easy laughter loosened the tension in my chest, even as a small voice in the back of my mind whispered caution.
Trusting someone—even a little—had never worked out for me before. But Colton? He felt different.
Maybe taking a chance wouldn’t be so bad this time.