Chapter 2 #2
Which was the usual truth. My dad had an uncanny ability to know when people were lying. He could smell it on their breath. He’d been the single reason our pack had been protected for as long as it had.
“Why can’t you and your brother just stay out of controversy? Seriously?”
“Dad. I didn’t talk to that damn reporter. No phone calls. No emails. Nothing. They are simply trying to hype their program. Call it click bait.”
He exhaled so many times I was certain the man was going to either hyperventilate or have a heart attack. “Do you have any idea how many phone calls I’ve had over the last two hours?”
I knew this speech by heart. I daresay so did Saint. So I mimicked it when my father started to speak.
““I’ve had fifty-two calls in the last two hours. Fifty-two. Reporters. Investors. Board members. Hell, your grandmother called and she’s way too busy with that new boyfriend of hers to stay in contact. How the hell did you get yourself in the middle of this shit?”
Wow. My grandmother had a boyfriend. Now that was new. “Dad, I’m not guilty. Just like you know Saint isn’t going to spill some shit about the gym and our pack. People are fishing. Or someone opened their fat canine mouth.”
“What are you insinuating? That we have a mole out to get us?”
“How else would reporters know about the park and our special gym?”
Of course the man was weighing whether or not I was telling him the truth. “You have a point, even if I don’t like it. You’re not lying to me?”
“What point would there be with my lying to you? We have too many enemies as it is. I’d like to actually have a career in the NHL. You know?”
“You had better believe our son, Barrett, or so help me God, you won’t get any for a month.”
Hearing my mother’s stern voice in the background usually made me smile. Not in this case. I didn’t need to hear details about their sex life.
Not only was there an ick factor to it, but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had sex. For all the stories told about big, buff hockey players, all the romance books and even with a new television series, it was all bullshit.
Well, unless you were the top players. Sure, they could have any woman they wanted.
Great. How many times in one day was I going down the road of feeling sorry for myself?
“I trust our son, sugar baby,” my dad said in return, barely trying to disguise the lovey-dovey tone he’d always used with her. For all his gruff and tough way of handling everyone else, Mama Wolf had him wrapped around her little finger. “Wait. Don’t take the phone.”
“Hi, honey. Let me know if your dad causes you any trouble. If so, I’ll handle him.”
“I’m fine, Mom. Really.”
“Alright. Here’s your dad. You need to come for dinner soon, son. I miss you.”
“Miss you too, Mom.” Yep. We were just one big happy family. A normal family. Would there ever be anything normal again?
While I rubbed my aching eyes, the two of them finished a totally inappropriate conversation. Dad cleared his throat before issuing his final words on the subject. “I don’t think I need to tell you not to talk to reporters. That story just needs to die a miserable death.”
“I know better and I’m not heading to New York for the Today Show either.”
“Good. I’ll handle the bastards. I’ve already put in a call to our attorney. He’ll ruin everyone touching this if necessary.”
“Don’t do that, Dad. This will blow over.
” There were other shifters in the news including one hot lead singer from a rock band who continued to get himself in daily trouble.
He’d even been caught by several photographers when halfway between being human and wolf.
Not a good look for anyone. That’s the effect cocaine had on the shifter population.
He seemed surprised I was comforting him. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, but I’m finished with having your brother taken advantage of.”
What about me? I wanted to ask the question but didn’t.
“You too. Let me handle the situation.” My father’s voice remained gruff. At least he had the capability of making things disappear.
“Okay, Dad. I will. Have you talked with Saint?”
“We’re about to chat in a couple minutes, which is why I need to run.”
I smacked my head against the wall. “Well, tell him to call me.” As if I believed he would.
“I will, but you know how your brother is.”
“Yeah, I do.” All too well. My father wasn’t one for formalities, hanging up without offering even a gruff goodbye.
I stood with the phone held against my head, trying to control my breathing.
Just before I turned to go down the hall toward the offices, I backtracked to one of the windows looking out over the parking lot.
While security was actively doing their best to remove the fans and protestors, I could still read their signs.
Werewolves are people too.
Werewolves deserve a chance.
Werewolves are sexy beasts.
Kill the savages.
Some were even more creative. And brutal.
A reminder that we weren’t wanted here, even though we were just people trying to enjoy our lives.
The signs were very colorful in shades of black, orange, and red.
Expressions of both love and hate.
I leaned against the window. Fuck my life.