Chapter 5
ELTON
“So where are we going?”
Rafferty drove his gigantic pickup truck out of my building’s pothole-ridden parking lot.
It was still light out, and I stared longer than I should’ve at his strong, callused hands on the steering wheel.
“It's Friday night. My pack has a tradition where everyone eats together on Fridays before going off and doing whatever they have planned for the weekend.” My stomach dropped.
Surely he didn't mean.... But he did. “We’ll have dinner there and you can meet everybody.”
“Rafferty, it's our first date. Meeting your family seems serious.” No way was I having our first date in front of who knew how many shifters, all of whom had super hearing and would be exceedingly interested in my and Rafferty’s conversation.
Annoyingly, he just nodded. “You wanted to get to know me. Meeting my pack is absolutely the best way to do that.”
I opened my mouth to object again, but I stopped.
This was obviously important to Rafferty, and what else was I going to do tonight?
Sit around my apartment and dwell on my impending lack of balls?
I blew out a slightly frustrated breath.
“Um, okay. But I'm not sure how long my social battery will last after everything else today.”
He reached his hand out before jerking it back. “Anytime it gets to be too much, let me know and I'll bring you home.” He scratched his beard. “But, uh, don’t freak out when you see the packhouse. I promise not everyone will be at dinner.”
I turned in my seat. “Oh?”
“It’s not really a ‘house’. It’s more of an apartment complex. But it’s not that big.”
Holy fuck. How many people were in his pack?
The packhouse—pack apartment complex?—was south of 610 near 288.
“We bought it out of foreclosure fifteen or so years ago and refurbished it.
It has sixty units, and right now thirty-seven of them are occupied.
It's got a pool, and we ripped out the tennis court and put in an obstacle and agility course so we can exercise in our wolf forms. When we want to run for long distances we have to drive out of town.”
The complex consisted of two buildings. The larger one faced the street and blocked the view of the rest of the property.
When we went through an entry gate, the smaller building came into view, and to the right was an Olympic-sized pool with a hot tub.
There was a large open grassy area and beyond that more grass dotted with the dog agility equipment Rafferty had mentioned.
Several people were walking around, but I didn't see anyone in wolf form.
I didn't have time to look at everything in detail because Rafferty took an immediate left into a parking garage, pulling into the first numbered slot. I guessed being pack alpha had its perks.
“Wow. This is nicer than any apartment complex I've ever lived in.”
He snorted as he turned off his truck. “It was falling down and riddled with mold when we bought it. What you see now is the result of years of manual labor.”
As we walked from the parking garage to the main building, people called out Rafferty’s name and waved.
A few of them called him “Alpha” but it wasn't universal.
A big man, slightly more heavyset than Rafferty but of a similar build, jogged over.
“Hey, Rafferty. Will you have time to review the inspection report for the house on Chester Street this weekend?” He examined me curiously.
Rafferty clamped the man on his shoulder. “Gene, this is Elton. He's joining us for dinner tonight.” The man greeted me, but we kept walking so I didn't shake his hand, just said hi back. “I'll try to look it over on Sunday. Will that do?” Gene agreed and walked off in a different direction.
We entered the larger building, and it was obvious this was the heart of the packhouse.
To the left was what appeared to be a commercial kitchen, and straight ahead was a dining hall with long tables.
To the right was a huge room with areas demarcated by rugs or furniture.
There was a giant TV with video game consoles, a couple of tables for arts and crafts, a colorful play mat with blocks and other toddler toys, and two sectional couches set up in opposite corners.
I counted twelve kids ranging in age from infant to late teens, along with several adults.
Three of the younger kids had Rafferty’s dark hair and unmistakable widow’s peak.
He waved to the right. “Let me show you my apartment before dinner. I’ve got the only one on this floor.” So everyone could easily access the alpha if they needed to. Made sense.
We walked past the big recreation room and down a short hallway. A door at the end led into a kind of office-slash-reception room containing a desk and a seating area with a couch and chairs. “I use this as my office. My apartment is through here.” That door was locked, with a keypad for entry.
I hadn’t expected, well, anything really about Rafferty’s apartment, but I’d never imagined it would be intentionally decorated.
The furniture was covered in sturdy suede or microfiber, and everything had a dark green and light gray color scheme, with pops of yellow and orange here and there.
It was cozy and inviting. “This is great. I like how you decorated.”
His face flushed. “Thanks. The bedroom’s that way, and I use the second bedroom for my, uh, I guess you’d call it a hobby.”
My eyebrows flew up. “Oh? What do you like to do?”
He ran his hand over his beard. “Um, I’ll show you.” His broad shoulders were tight and slightly hunched. Whatever the fuck his hobby was, I’d smile and act appreciative.
He pushed open the door, and I gasped. Rafferty liked LEGO.
Half of the room was framed with shelves displaying projects he’d built from kits, and two tables filled the floor between them.
One held a work in progress, and on the other sat a couple of scenes—a beach and a mountain—that I thought he might’ve made freeform.
“These are fantastic!” I enthused over his skill, and he blushed harder. He was kind of adorable.
“Thanks. I got into it as a kid and never stopped.”
I smiled. “I love it. I can’t remember the last time I built anything with LEGO.” I gestured at the other half of the room, which was completely empty. “What’s going here?”
He shrugged, turning even more red. “I’m not sure yet. All of my LEGO stuff used to be spread out over the whole room, but last weekend I had the urge to move everything to one side.”
I opened my mouth to ask something else, but an alarm sounded from his phone.
“Time for dinner. Come and meet the pack.”
Couldn’t I stay here and play with plastic bricks instead?
In the dining hall, people were arriving, greeting each other, and sitting down. Almost everyone I saw was a shifter, but there were a few magic carriers also in attendance.
Rafferty led me over to an empty table in the corner close to the kitchen.
I was glad to see both men and women working to get the meal ready.
He pulled a seat out for me near the center of one of the longer sides of the table, and he took the seat to my left, making sure there was enough distance between our chairs that we did not touch.
“My betas and their families will be sitting with us. Usually we spread out among the pack, but I asked them to join us so they can meet you.”
“How many betas do you have?” I didn't know a ton about wolf pack hierarchy, but betas were like the assistant managers of the pack, and usually some of the best fighters. Though I wasn't sure what kind of fights a modern pack would get into.
“I have four.” He smiled at a family of three—a man, a woman, and a teenage boy—who came to sit across from us.
All of them stared at me as if I were a mythical creature in a zoo.
As they took their seats, Rafferty gestured.
“Elton, this is my head beta, Gordon, his wife Kathy, and their son Parker.” Gordon had a prosthetic eye in his right socket, and I flashed back to Rafferty listing the physical issues some of his pack members had.
I squashed down the accompanying flush of shame.
I really was better off than many people.
I put on my most confident smile. Hopefully the smell of the food coming from the kitchen would mask any scent of my nervousness. “It's nice to meet all of you.”
They smiled and greeted me, and I didn't have to use my empath abilities to feel the curiosity emanating from them. It was only amplified by the arrival of the other three betas—Ward, Theresa, and Vinnie—and their families.
After bowls of spaghetti and meatballs, along with platters of garlic bread, were placed on the table—not a salad or vegetable in sight—Gordon was the first to broach the subject of my presence.
“Elton, we don't get too many guests joining us for Friday night dinners, but it's nice to see a new face.” He deliberately switched his gaze from mine to Rafferty’s. I stuffed my mouth with bread.
Rafferty glanced around the table. “Like I told you when I texted earlier, Elton is here as my date. We resonate very strongly but we’re trying to take things slow and keep a physical distance between us so we don't create a permanent connection too quickly.”
Overall everyone seemed pleased, and I understood from the context of their questions to Rafferty and me that he’d never brought a date to the packhouse before. Did he go to the other person’s place for hookups?
I let Rafferty answer most of the questions, but a few people asked me what I did for a living and other small talk.
Eventually the novelty of my presence wore off, and I was able to finish my meal.
Everything was delicious, but I was incredibly sensitive to the presence of balls of any type, and I’d wasted no time in cutting my meatballs up into little pieces with my fork.
During a lull in the conversation, I decided I should try to learn more about Rafferty’s packmates.
I started with Parker, as he hadn't been talking much during the meal, and he was also the least intimidating person in my general conversational area.
“Parker, I'm sorry, but I'm not great at guessing shifter ages. Are you in high school?”
He didn’t have a chance to answer my question, as Gordon jumped in to answer it for him.
“He is! He's a junior this year and is a running back on the football team. He won the school district’s Most Valuable Player award last season. The college scouts are already sniffing around!” He clapped his son on the shoulder, and even though I had my magic closed down quite a bit, I got a huge whiff of discomfort and shame coming from Parker.
Without pausing to think, probably because I was so tired from everything that week, not to mention my social battery being almost drained, I blurted out, “You don't like football?”
Parker’s eyes went wide in horror, and Rafferty's head swung around from where he'd been speaking to Ward on his other side. Gordon scowled at me. “What are you talking about? He loves football!” He clapped Parker on the shoulder again. “You love football.”
I opened my mouth to apologize, but Rafferty leaned forward. “Parker, no pressure, but my door’s open anytime you want to talk.” Was he getting the same vibes from the kid that I was?
Kathy made an “o” with her mouth, then put her arm around Parker’s shoulder. “You don’t have to decide if you’re playing next year right now, sweetie. And if you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”
He leaned into her and nodded, but Gordon wasn’t having it. He narrowed his eyes at his son. “Why wouldn’t you want to play? You’re a champion. Football will pay for college.”
Parker hung his head, staring down at his plate. Crap.
The rest of the table had gone silent. Rafferty cleared his throat. “Let’s address this topic another time, huh?”
“Good idea.” Kathy lifted her arm from Parker's shoulder and reached behind him to squeeze Gordon's bicep. Her thumb turned white, so she was really putting on the pressure.
Gordon subsided and grumbled, “Fine,” but he shot his son a look that boded ill for their next conversation alone.
“Excuse me, mister?”
I turned in my chair to see a little girl standing behind Theresa’s chair on my right.
An adult woman, presumably her mother, had her hand on the girl’s shoulder.
I was grateful for the interruption. The girl was twelve or thirteen years old.
She did not have what I’d started to think of as the Rafferty widow’s peak. “Yes?”
She didn’t move her feet but twisted almost her whole body around to look up at her mom, a tall brunette with an encouraging smile. She turned back to me. “Are you ejvibes from Instagram?”
My eyebrows went up. I didn’t get recognized very often. “I am! Do you watch my reels?”
She nodded, then glanced back at her mother again before facing me with her back straight and her chin firmed. “Would you take a selfie with me for my feed?”
“Of course! What’s your name?” I pushed back from the table. Hopefully we were done eating, because I was done sitting there.
“Ginny.”
“Nice to meet you, Ginny. I’m Elton. You’ll tag me, won’t you, so I can follow you?”
That got me a huge grin. “Yes!”
We walked over to her mother, who introduced herself as Luna. “Thanks so much for doing this. She loves your content.” She looked over my shoulder, and I could tell Rafferty was hovering.
Murmurs rumbled through the dining room, and seconds later I heard my own voice saying, “You can’t always tackle a random stranger just to make yourself feel better. But every once in a while, you can.”
I ignored the jeers and whistles. Rafferty could deal with all that.
I concentrated on putting my arm around Ginny’s shoulders while Luna took our photo.
I released her, but Ginny grabbed my arm.
“You said this morning you’d been to the doctor.
And later you said you’d had testicle cancer. Is that why you went to the doctor?”
Silence swept through the entire room. Fuck. I made a mental note. Going forward, I should be a little less frank in my reels. I’d never considered kids might be watching.
I took her hand. “It was, but I’m going to be alright.
Three years ago I had cancer, but they operated and everything seemed good.
But now it's come back and they have to operate again.” Her eyes went round, and her face started to crinkle up.
I squeezed her fingers. “Don't worry. I'm going on Monday to get the new cancer taken out, and then I’ll be right as rain.”
Rafferty walked up behind me, close enough that I could feel the heat from his leg near my shoulder. Close enough that our magics had to be resonating. “I'll make sure he's okay, Ginny. You don't have to worry about Elton.”