Chapter 17
17
DASH
“We don’t have to go to this, Lan,” I offer for the third time in the last ten minutes.
Ever since he came down from his room dressed in the typical slacks and button-up that his father demands we all wear during dinner, he’s been uptight to the max.
It’s somehow worse than normal but not completely out of character.
He’s always standoffish during the nights our attendance is demanded at his parents’ home.
I think we all hoped it would get easier to go spend the evening with his parents as we got older, but nope.
The tensions continue to run high.
Landon adjusts his tie, staring at his reflection in the hall mirror.
“If we don’t, I’ll hear about it for weeks. It’s easier to give him what he wants.”
“At whose expense?”
“Not his, that’s for sure,” Jasper says, joining us with a tinfoil container of what I really hope are his famous potato skins.
Ronan steps into the hall, still refusing to dress up for these dinners.
Every inch of him screams fuck you and what you think you can make me do .
“The only reason he wants us there is to warn us not to embarrass the Riptide legacy.”
“The Montgomery name comes with a reputation. The world is watching,” I mock, dropping my tone to match Dean Montgomery’s.
Landon tongues his cheek before turning to face us.
The bags beneath his eyes are almost staggering.
His black hair makes the pale shade of his skin appear worse, almost sickly.
“When’s the last time you slept, Lan?” Jasper asks.
“I don’t remember.”
“Yeah, we can see that,” I mutter.
Concern jabs deep. “Are you sure you don’t want us to stay home? Last chance to change your mind.”
He lifts his keys and jingles them around.
“We’re going. I’ll sleep later.”
“I’ll make some tea when we get home. It might help,” Jasper says.
Landon acknowledges the offer with a weak nod and turns his attention to Ronan, staring him up and down.
His following sigh is heavy.
“He’ll hate those fucking jeans.”
“Good,” Ronan says bluntly.
Lan lets it go, knowing there’s no point in pushing.
“I don’t want to be late.”
We make it out the door and on the road quickly, not wanting to push him right now.
It’s only been a few days since our blow-up about the omega, and things are still tense.
Tonight is the first time we’ve all been together like this since Landon walked out the door instead of facing what’s happening to the pack head-on.
It’s concerning, to say the least. Landon isn’t the guy to run away from his problems. There’s a reason he’s pack leader, and it isn’t just because he’s the biggest of us all and can command nearly any alpha to follow his directions with a single bark.
He has the natural leadership needed for the position, and we’ve all witnessed it more than a dozen times.
The topic of an omega has ruffled him more than he’s letting on, and I’m feeling hopeless to fix everything.
We don’t speak much on the drive to Landon’s family home.
I’m no alpha, but even I can smell the lingering cleaning products on the upholstery.
Even with Landon’s window rolled down and the sunroof open, it refuses to disappear.
Whatever happened to make him take such drastic efforts to clean this thing is beyond me.
By the time we’re pulling around the circle driveway, I’m pretty sure my face has windburn.
“Last chance to back out,” Jasper says, leaning up between the front seats.
Landon turns off the engine and pushes his door open.
“We won’t stay long.”
“Works for me. As long as I get some of Jasper’s potato skins, I’m good,” I say.
Jasper shakes the tinfoil container.
“Potato skins? These are stuffed mushroom.”
“Wash your mouth out with soap, Jas. You wouldn’t dare.”
“Back me up here, Ronan. You saw me cutting them this morning, right?” Jasper asks the grumpy ass leaning against the SUV.
“Yeah. Smelled ’em too.”
“Don’t joke about potato skins. Especially not in the same breath as the mere mention of mushrooms. In what world does eating fungi sound healthy for anyone, let alone humans?” I ask, shivering.
“Pretty sure wolves eat that shit right from the ground,” Ronan grumbles.
I tug my brows together in disgust and blink at him.
“It’s a good thing we’re not wolves, then, isn’t it?”
Jasper chuckles, cracking the corner of the tinfoil just enough to expose the cheesy potatoes inside the container.
The smell of bacon and green onions makes my stomach scream for food.
“No mushrooms here, Dash.”
“Are you done?” Landon asks, his tone exposing how stressed he is.
It sobers the rest of us up.
“We’re right behind you,” I say.
He exhales, taking another look at the three of us before leading the way to the front door.
His stepmom is already there waiting for us.
“Boys! Come, come. You’re right on time. Dinner’s just about done,” she exclaims, ushering us in one by one.
Landon bundles her into his arms for a hug, lingering there while we shuffle around the grand foyer.
“Hey, Daph.”
The tiny omega with a short red bob and lipstick to match squeezes him tight before pulling back to look him over.
Her worry is to be expected.
We all feel it.
“You look terrible, Landon. Let me feed you before you wither away to nothing. Have you been eating at all recently?” She flashes quick looks at the rest of us with enough ire to make us straighten.
“What use is a pack if you don’t look after one another? Hmm?”
Jasper offers a soft smile.
“We’ve been trying, Mrs. Montgomery.”
“Stubborn male,” she chastises her stepson.
When she releases him, Landon stares down at her sheepishly.
“To the dining room. We’ll eat immediately.”
Her soothing lavender scent runs rampant through the extravagant home, burying all hints of Landon’s father.
For as long as I’ve known my packmate, it’s been this way.
I think it relaxes everyone.
Landon’s father smells angry all the time, even when he isn’t.
“Christ, Landon. You look like you need a coffin to sleep in,” he grunts, appearing at his wife’s side dressed in light grey slacks and a deep green polo that coordinates perfectly with her dress.
Landon settles between me and Ronan, saying, “So I’ve heard.”
“How is your knee?”
“Good as new,” Landon lies.
I’ve seen the limp, and yeah, I’ve kept up with his physiotherapist. Sue me.
His knee is recovering fine, but it’s nowhere near good as new, especially with how hard he’s pushing himself.
His dad jerks his chin.
He inspects the rest of us and scowls when he sees the ripped jeans Ronan chose to wear tonight.
“I see the dress code has gone . . . forgotten , once again,” he notes.
Ronan grows taller somehow.
“All of my slacks were dirty. My apologies.”
“Let’s not worry about that right now. Scoot into the dining room and sit for dinner,” Mrs. Montgomery orders.
I pat Landon’s back when he leads the charge, Ronan falling into pace beside him.
Jasper tugs at the collar of his shirt and walks on my right.
Landon’s father doesn’t wait for us to sit before speaking again.
“Congratulations on the last win. It was too close, though. Florida doesn’t have the power to be outshooting you by fifteen shots. If it weren’t for Dash, you’d have lost that one.”
It’s not a compliment, and I don’t take it as one.
Ronan’s the first to sit at the long table.
It’s already been set with expensive china and glasses topped with chilled water.
The plum-coloured table runner matches the fabric napkins and curtains hung over the tall windows.
The properness of this place is intimidating but also just. .
. unnecessary.
Our pack is the opposite of all of this.
We don’t even have a matching set of plates at home.
Everything has been collected randomly over the years.
Ronan’s mom is the only reason we have any semblance of decent furniture because she took his bank card the day after we bought the house.
It’s still hard to believe that Landon grew up here in this mansion fit for royalty.
“Tomorrow is a new game. We’ll work out the kinks,” Jasper says, taking the spot on Ronan’s left.
I find my usual seat across from him while Landon sits beside me at the furthest place from his father.
Mr. Montgomery lowers himself in the head chair across from where his wife will sit.
If there’s one person who that guy loves enough to warm even slightly, it’s Landon’s stepmom.
The omega he found after losing the one who put on the greatest act in history.
“I sure hope so. Everyone expects the Riptides to make it to the Stanley Cup finals. There’s a lot riding on this season,” he says.
Landon pulls his chair in, clearing his throat.
“We’ll do it.”
A nod of acknowledgment from his father.
“That’s right. And you’ll start sleeping. You’ve been slugging down the ice every game.”
“I’m fine. Just feeling a little under the weather.”
I whip my head to look at him, frowning.
“Why haven’t you mentioned anything?”
His jaw tenses.
“Because it’s nothing. Some aches and pains. I’ll survive.”
Jasper and Ronan look at me at the same time.
The concern from earlier doubles in size.
“You should make an appointment at a clinic. Something could be really wrong,” Jasper suggests.
I nod along with him.
“When’s the last time you went into a rut?”
He rolls his shoulders out, unease tugging at his features.
Quite possibly because I just asked him about a rut in front of his parents.
Oops.
“I don’t remember.”
“See the team doctor, Landon. Your health is important. The team needs you,” Mr. Montgomery chimes in.
I have to stifle a groan at his lack of awareness.
The last thing that matters right now is hockey.
“Who’s ready to eat?” Mrs. Montgomery sings, bouncing into the room with platters full of food.
She starts setting everything down on the table around Jasper’s tinfoil container.
The smell of ham, potatoes, and mac and cheese fills the air, ramping up the grumble in my stomach.
“Why didn’t you ask me for help with this, Daph?” Landon’s father scolds lightly, disappearing out of the dining room, more than likely in search of more food.
Mrs. Montgomery rolls her eyes.
“Such a busybody, that man.”
“You deserve the help,” Landon says, his voice low.
“If I had someone help me with everything I did, I’d grow bored. Taking care of all of you is what makes me happy.”
Landon’s smile is genuine, bigger than I’ve seen it in weeks.
“I know.”
“Well, dig in. Your father will only find fresh rolls and vegetables left in that kitchen. Everything else is already here for you. There are no bonus points for waiting any longer,” she says with a wave of her hand.
“Fine. But only if you sit and dish up first,” Landon barters.
While reluctant, she does as he says and makes a show of digging the big metal spoon into the potatoes to take a heavy helping that she probably won’t end up finishing.
Only once she’s plopped it onto her plate do the rest of us follow suit.
Landon nods to himself, content with the knowledge that she’s taken care of before he’s filling his plate.
His care for his stepmom is reassuring to see after watching him be so void of emotion the past couple of weeks.
The overprotective, caregiving alpha that we’ve all grown to know and love is still in there, just buried beneath secrets I need him to spill.
The dinner this weekend that we’ve yet to tell him about may very well be our best chance to do just that.
All we’ve got to do now is break the news to him that the omega he’s so dead set on ignoring exists is coming over, whether he likes it or not. Goody.