Chapter 7 #2
She crossed her arms and frowned. “I can’t make much from those little things, and I certainly can’t churn them out fast enough. For some reason, I’m drawn to quilts, but I underestimated how hard it would be to learn something new.”
“My mother was a seamstress. We didn’t have automation back then. Melody’s right. When you do something day in and day out, you get better at it. But why focus on the money?”
Melody twirled her hair around her finger. “Virgil has a point. Your mate’s loaded, and you’ll never have to worry about money again. Plus you have the pack.”
But something was troubling Joy, and I recognized what it was as I retracted my arm. She felt inadequate, like she didn’t have anything of value to contribute to the house or the world.
“I love being a mom,” she began. “But what comes after motherhood? That’ll only be a fraction of my life. Soon little Violet will be all grown up, and then what? I had to forge my own path in life because my parents rejected me, but I want to be a role model for my children. I know that’s selfish.”
“It’s not selfish,” Melody countered. “I know where you’re coming from, but don’t sell yourself short. Being a mom is more than enough. She’s got plenty to brag about.”
“Some kids have deadbeat parents or none at all,” I added.
Joy gave a rueful smile. “I want her to know she can do whatever she wants. I wanted to be that example.”
Understanding that longing, I rested my head on her shoulder. “That means you can’t give up on your dream, sugarplum. I love this quilt.”
“No offense, Virgil, but your room looks like a bordello, so it’ll blend right in.”
I unleashed a wicked laugh and raised my head. She wasn’t lying.
Joy tugged at a loose thread. “This was a terrible idea.”
Melody straightened her leg and stared at her foot.
“The first pair of shoes I designed, I used Elmer’s Glue to stick the rhinestones on.
I sold them to a girl in a neighboring pack, and when she wore them to a dance, the rhinestones popped off.
Some kid slipped and hit his head. True story.
” Melody scooted beside her. “I’m only good because I’ve been practicing for years and making mistakes along the way.
That’s how you learn your technique. What’s the rush?
You literally have centuries to master your craft.
The next time you start a quilt, we’ll sit together, and I’ll show you how to sew. Don’t stress.”
Joy splayed her fingers across her lap and sighed. “I want to be good at something.”
I chuckled softly to lighten the mood. “That’s how I feel about sex. Practice makes perfect.”
Melody threw a pillow at my head.
Jokes worked like a charm every time.
After rising from the couch, I draped the quilt around my shoulders and felt like a king. “When you become famous, I’ll have a collector’s item—your first creation. It’ll be worth a fortune. Just you wait and see.”
Melody rolled her eyes. “Yeah, until you spill your Kool-Aid on it.”
I strode toward the hallway. “Blasphemy.”
When headlights flashed through the windows, I stopped at the staircase. Robyn and Lakota headed to the living room while car doors slammed outside.
Footfalls tromped up the porch steps, and the door flung open.
Someone gasped. Curious, I stood against the faux trees behind the sectional.
Melody crossed the room. “What the hell happened?”
Krys was holding his black shirt over his face. Water dripped from the fabric and rolled down his chest.
After stepping inside, Montana hung his black cowboy hat on a hook behind the door. “Cleo got in her first bar fight.”
Lakota crossed his arms. “Is she okay? Who was the other kid? I’ll have a talk with her parents.”
Montana rubbed the back of his scarred hand. “It wasn’t a kid. We took care of it.”
Cleo slinked through the door and stood quietly by the wall.
Robyn looked her over before gripping Montana’s face to check for injuries.
He jerked his chin away. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Krys is the one with a cracked face. Calvin gave him a cup of ice before we left, so it helped with the swelling.”
She grimaced. “Is the bone broken? Salem’s in bed, but I can wake him.”
Krys wiped blood off his face and stared at his hand. “The other guy needs medical attention. Cleo left a dent in his head.”
“Did anyone leave a dent in my truck?” Lakota asked.
Montana shrugged. “We had to load Krys’s bike in the back. There might be a scratch.”
“It’ll blend in with the bullet holes,” Melody said with a suppressed laugh. “And the dented door.”
Robyn rubbed Montana’s arm. “I’m just glad everyone’s home in one piece.”
My heart was racing, and my inner wolf stirred with anger at the sight of blood on Krys’s face.
Lakota slammed the door and glowered at Krys. “Your behavior’s rubbing off on her and not in a good way.”
“Says you.” Krys flipped his hair back. “She needs to learn how to fight to protect herself.”
Melody collapsed on the sofa. “My uncle Reno taught me how to fight.”
Lakota belted out a laugh. “That explains everything. Krys, go outside and shift. No need to stand here suffering. We’ll catch up tomorrow and talk it over.”
“Nothing to talk about.” Krys handed him the dripping shirt. “Keep everyone inside. My wolf is pissed.”
When Krys stalked toward me, I had an impulsive desire to reach out and ask if he was okay. But he didn’t like people seeing him in pain.
Krys had beef with a few people, and I always worried that one night, someone might run him off the road.
That time he traveled to Arkansas with Atticus on a dangerous mission wrecked me.
There was a chance neither would return, and when they came home safely, I was so overwhelmed that I had to leave the room.
The same happened when he flew to Cognito with Salem.
My wolf paced, and it was difficult to focus on anything.
On the odd occasions he came home with bruised knuckles or a black eye, all I wanted to do was hunt down the person responsible and bury them in an unmarked grave.
The only trouble was their ghost would haunt my ass for life.
Lakota stood in front of Cleo. “What happened?”
She shrugged. “Nothing. I tripped, and my pool stick hit someone.”
“Is that how you want to tell it?”
The front door opened, and Archer bustled in. “The truck’s in the garage, but I left the bike in the back. Where’s Krys?” He kicked the door closed.
“Outside shifting,” Montana answered.
Why aren’t they giving details? They always brag about their fights.
When Archer passed by me on his way to the back, I seized his arm. “What happened?” I asked quietly. “I promise I’ll keep it a secret.”
He laughed. “I’ve been hearing that lie for years. The truth is, I don’t know what set her off. We were playing pool one minute, and the next, she was clobbering some guy with a pool stick. I didn’t see what started it, and she wasn’t talking on the way home.”