Chapter 8 #2
Kellen waited a beat as he searched her face, trying to figure out what she wanted. He didn't have to do that. She wasn't that complicated as a person. Or, as a wolf shifter, if she still was one.
"What do you want to talk about?" he asked.
What did she want to know? She didn't want to talk about wolf shifters anymore, but what else was there? She knew nothing about Kellen other than he owned the restaurant and he was well-respected by his employees and the residents of Winterbourne.
"Why aren't you, Stephen, and Leo a pack?"
"I told you we were all omegas. There's no hierarchy between us.
When Stephen, Leo, and I decided to form the brotherhood, we had to figure out how we would get along.
Without a hierarchy, there was no one wolf to give orders.
We had to learn to work together as a group, and our wolves had to learn to respect those decisions.
"For years, we were so careful not to try and dominate one another. If something needed to be decided, we talked about it together. Sometimes we voted, and we had to respect that vote. We had to learn to compromise or find ways around the problems we faced.
"The Dead Wolves Brotherhood stands strong because of our hard work and dedication to not become like our packs."
"Dead Wolves Brotherhood?"
Kellen shrugged. "That’s what we originally called ourselves.
It was two a.m., we were drunk, and Leo decided we needed a name.
Since all three of our alphas wanted us dead, and deep down we had no idea how long we would last, we called ourselves the Dead Wolves, and it stuck until we started moving around.
Now we just name ourselves after the town whenever we move.
We’re the Winterbourne Brotherhood now."
Before she could ask another question, Kellen asked her one. "What about you? Any family? I'm assuming you're not married or have a boyfriend."
"Nope, no boyfriend. My father was a firefighter, and my mother was a surgeon.
I couldn't decide which one I wanted to follow in my quest for a career, so I decided to become a paramedic.
We were happy as a family, but they were busy.
My grandfather lived with us and took care of me—taking me to school, picking me up, but he was from the generation that didn't believe in participation trophies, or childhood illnesses, or bad grades.
He did believe in self-defense though. That's why I have the combat knife, and I can use a rifle and handgun without flinching.
" She paused because she could feel the grief well up inside her again.
"My parents were killed by a drunk driver three years ago. I had planned to move out of our house, but both me and my grandfather were devastated, so I stayed."
Kellen's hand started to move across the desk, reaching for her, but then he stopped and pulled it back.
"We need to figure this out," he said, pretending he hadn't tried to reach for her. "I'm sorry Samara...”
“Davis.” After their make-out session the least she could do is give him her last name. "My name is Samara Davis."
"Samara Davis," he repeated. "I know you don't want to talk about how you escaped, but I need to know. It could be the key to understanding why Josiah kidnapped you and exactly what happened to you while you were in the Riverstone campground."
So much for talking about anything other than wolf shifters.
Kellen continued. "I also need to have Stephen and Leo here."
"Oh, come on."
"I know it's going to be painful, but we've stayed alive all these years because the trust between us is unbreakable. If you trust me, then you can trust them. They won't hurt you, I promise."
On the heels of breaking one promise, here Kellen was making another. And yet, he was right. She couldn't keep running forever, and Josiah would catch up to her someday. There really wasn't a choice and she hated that. So, she nodded. Kellen typed on his phone, texting Stephen and Leo, she assumed.
In the meantime, she clenched her gut and tried hard not to think of the Riverstone Pack. She would never regret killing every single one of them that had been in the mansion that day. If she'd had the time and weapons, she would have killed the rest of them and walked away with grim satisfaction.
Knowing she was capable of such revenge should have terrified her more than the act itself.
But damn it, she could still see all of their faces—and even in death, she hated them.
Except, perhaps, the housekeeper. That wolf shifter might have been her way out, a chance to escape without resorting to fire.
But instead, she had only taught Samara how to submit.
If there was anyone in the Riverstone Pack she might have regretted killing, it was the housekeeper.
Yet, in the end, she had obeyed Josiah too easily.
A chill ran through Samara as she looked back up at the picture. The woman standing behind little Kellen. That was what had been bothering her. The housekeeper was Kellen’s mother.
And Samara had murdered her.