6. Gray
GRAY
M y days off were simple.
Coffee from home, not Delilah’s—I didn’t need the gossip that came with her refills.
A walk through town, sometimes down to the docks to watch the boats, sometimes along Main Street if I needed to pick something up.
Then back to my apartment to read, restore a personal project, or sit outside and let my owl enjoy the open air without having to shift.
It was a good routine.
Today I’d walked to the hardware store for wood glue—a specific Japanese brand I ordered through them that worked better on antique bindings than anything else I’d tried.
Broddie, the owner’s son, had it waiting behind the counter.
We exchanged about twelve words total, which was the right amount for both of us, and I went on my way.
The afternoon was cool, but the sky was overcast in that heavy, gray way the coast got when a front was moving through.
I tucked the small bag into my jacket pocket and headed up Main Street.
The lunch crowd had thinned out, and the sidewalks were mostly empty.
A few people moved between shops. Someone was sweeping the entrance to the Seagrass Salon. The usual.
I was passing the Driftwood Grill when I spotted her.
Bonnie was in the gravel lot beside the restaurant, heading toward a beat-up sedan that I assumed was hers. It must be the end of her shift. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and tension radiated off her.
Then I saw why.
Darren was standing between her and her car. His hands were in his pockets, and his posture loose and easy, like they were having a casual conversation. They weren’t. He was too close—the kind of close that wasn’t friendly. It was territorial.
His younger brother Cade leaned against a black sedan parked a few spaces away, watching the whole thing with that lazy detachment of his.
My owl snapped to attention.
I didn’t know them personally, but I knew who they were. Every shifter in Driftwood Cove did. Heck, every person did.
They were trouble.
Darren had been mixed up in the pill smuggling operation that ran out of the Tidal Caverns—the same operation that had put Bonnie’s dad behind bars.
Somehow he’d walked away clean while her dad and the pharmacy tech took the fall.
I’d never had a reason to pay attention to Darren beyond knowing to stay clear of him.
He ran in different circles than I did, which wasn’t hard since my circles consisted of working at the library and the occasional trip to the grocery store.
But now he was three feet from Bonnie, and my owl was losing his mind.
Every instinct I had locked onto Darren with a focus that felt predatory. This was unusual for me or my owl. He was typically patient. Observant. He watched and calculated before acting. It was how I worked, too.
Today was different.
Right now, all he wanted was for me to act.
I got a little closer and then paused. Darren was talking. His voice carried across the lot. It was smooth and relaxed. The kind of tone you’d use in conversation with an old friend, but there was nothing warm in it. Even I could tell it was a performance.
A predator wearing a smile to get close to its prey.
“Just checking in,” he said. “Making sure you and Lawson are doing okay. It’s gotta be hard, right? Doing all of this on your own.”
Bonnie’s eyes were practically shooting daggers at him. “I don’t need you checking in on me or my brother. We’re fine,” she said. Her tone was flat and controlled.
“Good, good.” Darren nodded like he actually cared. “Lawson’s a good kid. Smart. He just needs people around him who give a damn, you know? People who show up.”
Bonnie’s shoulders tensed.
“I show up,” she said, venom trickling through her voice.
“Sure you do. Now.” He tilted his head, and that smile he’d been giving her widened. “But he remembers when you didn’t. Kids don’t forget that kind of thing.”
The words were calculated. Every one of them placed with precision, and aimed at the exact spot that would do the most damage. This wasn’t a friendly check-in. This was a man reminding a woman that he had access to the person she loved most, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.
My owl pressed hard against my chest, ready to intervene.
I didn’t.
Instead, I watched Bonnie, waiting for any indication she was in over her head with this asshole. She didn’t flinch. Her back straightened and her chin lifted ever so slightly.
“Is there something you need, Darren?” she asked, her voice steady.
“Just being a friend.” He held up his palms in mock surrender. “Lawson’s important to me. To us.” He glanced back at Cade, who gave a lazy nod without uncrossing his arms. “We look out for him. That’s all.”
The unspoken message hung between them: We’re in his life whether you like it or not.
“I need to go,” Bonnie said.
“Of course.” Darren stepped aside. “Tell Lawson I said hey.”
He walked back to the sedan, and Cade pushed off the hood to follow. Darren didn’t look back. He didn’t need to. He’d done what he came to do.
They climbed in and pulled out of the lot, and I watched the black sedan turn onto Main Street and disappear.
Bonnie hadn’t moved.
She stood in the gravel lot, staring at the spot where Darren had been. Her arms were still crossed, but now I could see the tremor running through her.
Something in my chest stirred, and it didn’t come from just my owl. It was something deeper. Something in me.
I started toward her.
My footsteps crunched on the gravel as I entered the parking lot, and she turned to face me.
Her green eyes were glassy but dry—she hadn’t let herself cry, probably wouldn’t, not here where someone might see.
When she recognized me, something in her expression shifted.
Surprise at first, then a flicker of something else that came and went too fast for me to name.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey.” Her voice was hoarse. She cleared her throat. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the library?”
“Day off. I was picking something up from the hardware store.” I stopped a few feet from her, giving her space. Up close, the tension in her body was even more visible. She was wound so tight she looked like she might snap. “You okay?”
She opened her mouth, but then closed it. She swallowed hard, and her gaze dipped to the ground.
“Not really.” She sighed.
Two words, but they were honest.
“Want to get out of here?” I asked.
She looked up. Her eyes searched my face before she flashed a small smile.
“Yeah,” she said. “I do.”