Chapter 3 #2
Whatever. At least he knew what kind of family drama he was getting into.
Liam shook his head and kept running through the neighborhood at the eastern edge of town.
He purposefully didn’t turn onto McDermott, though it was killing him not to see the condition of his old house.
He’d driven by when he’d first gotten back into town, and the overgrown yard and blacked-out windows had just about killed him.
He bet the leaves were ankle deep beneath the snow.
Not your problem. Except, it kind of was, since Jenny didn’t have enough money to buy him out, and the neighborhood association kept leaving messages threatening to report him for blight.
If Pete wasn’t such a dick, Liam might’ve considered just giving the property to her in the divorce and washing his hands of it.
Unfortunately, it’d been made it very clear that any kind of “charity” wasn’t happening.
Ironic, considering all the money they’d “borrowed” from him.
But if Liam pressed the issue, it wouldn’t go well for Jenny.
Though why he cared at this point…he frowned.
It wasn’t that he had any lingering feelings for her—not fond ones, at least—but the kids, they were a different story.
Of all the men in Havers for her to hook up with, why she’d settled for a normy, alcoholic wingnut like Pete…
Liam had never understood women. Not having to pretend to anymore put a massive smile on his face.
The town center was quiet, another hour before the buses started arriving at the elementary school and people just leaving for work.
A light coating of snow covered everything, and the lamp posts were decorated with greenery and festive red ribbons.
The shops along Main Street had gone all out for the holiday, and classic Christmas music was piping from one of them.
His footsteps slowed as he passed a sandwich board letting everyone know there were only four shopping days left until Yule.
His breath puffed out, cheeks pinging from the cold.
The little tables outside Cups were mounded with snow, the walkway cleared between them.
Liam pulled open the door, kicking rock salt from his sneakers before he went in.
Warmth hit him like a fist, and he wiped the sudden sheen of sweat from his brow.
The tables were full of people enjoying their breakfasts and gossiping.
He went up to the garlanded counter, and Kelsey came out from the back, a bell tinging on her cap.
Her brow rose as she flicked it from her eyes. “You’re looking chipper. Anything I should know about?”
“Yeah, but not here,” he said, grinning.
Kelsey smiled back. “Okay then, Mr. Mystery. I’ll take it. You want your usual?” He nodded, and she started making his coffee. “You’re still coming tonight, right?”
He puffed out his cheeks. “Yeah, six o’clock?”
“Six o’clock.” She adjusted the drip. “I was hoping Tom could make it, but he’s on call.”
“Maybe next time…you invite him to Yule at Mom and Dad’s?”
Her brow rose again. “I have not, but I was considering it. You think I should?”
“I don’t see why not,” Liam said, leaning against the counter. “Seems like you really like him.”
She tried to hide a smile and failed miserably. “I do, but it’s complicated.”
“Of course it is. You have a normal relationship? Nah.”
Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Shut up and give me your credit card.”
He flipped it onto the counter. “Do I need to bring anything tonight?”
“It’s BYOB. Aside from that, just you and some of this swagger you’ve got going on.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he winked at her and turned—
Directly into Pete Randall.
Liam’s inner wolf growled, and he fought to keep it from his face. Pete glowered at him, his dishwater grey eyes bloodshot. “Montgomery.”
“Pete,” Liam said, trying to edge around him and not sprout fur.
The sallow bald man stepped with him and got in his face. “I thought I told you I didn’t want you anywhere near my family. What the hell do you think you’re doing showing up at their school?”
The café went silent, and Liam recoiled, cheap vodka already on Pete’s breath.
Liam’s lip curled over an elongating canine, and the small hairs on his nape rose beneath everyone’s rapt gaze, all of them waiting for the train wreck.
He took a deep breath, trying to bury his rage at the pathetic piece of shit challenging him.
His wolf scrabbled for release. No. Not here and not now.
“You did, but I went there to talk to Jenny about Sarah, not to—”
“If you want to talk to someone, you talk to me or my lawyer,” Pete growled.
Liam bit back his first inclination to tell the guy to go fuck himself and put a fist through his teeth. He pulled out a chair at the nearest vacant table. “Okay. You wanna have a seat?”
Pete snorted, running the back of his hand across his mouth, stubble like iron filings rasping in its wake. “You just think you’re so goddamned slick. You come back here with your fancy Jeep, waving around your money, your degree—”
Liam held up his hands. “Look, Pete—”
“No, you look!” He stabbed a grubby finger at Liam’s chest. “You stay the fuck away from Jenny, you stay the fuck away from the kids, and I don’t give a shit how that goddamned paternity test comes back. There’s not a chance in hell I’m handing Sarah over to a fucking faggot!”
Someone gasped, and all the blood drained from Liam’s face, his rage deserting him.
“The cops are on their way,” Greta said into the ensuing silence, her eyes hard as she glared at Pete. “You need to leave.”
“Cops.” He laughed, then buzzed his lips. “And I need to leave, huh? Sure. I’ll leave, but if I catch you anywhere near me or mine, I’ll fucking end you.” He raised his chin and knocked Liam’s coffee from his hand. Two women screamed as the hot liquid spattered all over their table.
And Liam’s rage was back.
“That wasn’t necessary,” he gritted out, his hand fisting at his side.
Pete grinned. “And what the hell are you gonna do about it, gay boy?”
“He doesn’t have to do anything about it,” Kelsey said, coming over and standing beside Liam, her hand clamping around his wrist. “Because I’m about ready to tear your throat out myself, you inbred piece of bigoted shit.” She growled, her eyes flashing, and her canines dropped to fangs.
“Crazy bitch.” Pete fell back a step. “All you Montgomerys. Weres. Goddamned supes. Every last one of you are a bunch of dirty fucking animals, heads in the sand, already staked out for the slaughter.” He laughed.
“Death’s coming on wings, and when it do, all you freaks are gonna burn. All of you!” he yelled at the café.
Liam stared at him in shock. What the fuck?
A siren blared outside and a moment later, the door tinged open. Sheriff Nelson and his deputy, Roger, pushed through. “All right, all right, everybody, calm down. Show’s over. Pete, you know the drill. You gonna come quietly, or you planning on giving me extra paperwork for Christmas?”
“You’re arresting me?” the prick asked like he couldn’t believe it. “That crazy bitch threatened me, they all heard it!” He swung around and no one would meet his eye. “Bunch of fucking pussies…You should be arresting her and that pervert brother of hers!”
“Sure.” The sheriff sighed, gripping Pete’s arm and hauling him toward the door. “As soon as they earn a drunk and disorderly, I’ll be happy to bring them, too.” He nodded at his deputy. “Roger, take statements, and get me a dark roast on your way back.”
Roger tipped his hat, keeping an eye on them until Pete was in the back of the cruiser. The deputy pulled out a notepad. “Liam, Miss Kelsey. You wanna have a seat and tell me what went on here?”
Not in the fucking slightest. Liam ran a hand over his face as the adrenaline racing through his body abandoned him, his knees about to give.
“Start with someone else and give him a minute, Roger.” Greta pulled out a chair for Liam.
“Sit down before you fall down. Kelsey, go make him a coffee—extra sweet. That kind of a shock isn’t good for anybody.
And the rest of you, unless you plan on giving a statement, get on with your day,” she snapped at the other patrons.
“You heard the sheriff, show’s over, and Cups is closed! ”
Liam collapsed into the chair, his gratitude warring with his disbelief as he buried his face in his trembling hands. She was closing the café?
Greta rubbed a hand across his shoulders. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. The divorce and everything with those kids has got to be hard enough, but that man…” She sucked her teeth. “He’s lucky Harold won’t let me keep a shotgun under the counter anymore.”
Liam snorted, but wouldn’t that just solve all his problems?
An image of himself asking Santa for Pete’s corpse for Christmas flashed across his mind’s eye, and he laughed.
Greta’s steel gray brows drew together in concern, and he laughed again.
A corpse for Christmas, homicide for Hanukah, shit, why didn’t he just round it out and string up a yokel for Yule?
Kelsey rushed over with the coffee and handed it to him. Liam went to pull out his wallet, and Greta stopped him.
“Oh no, it’s on the house.”
“Thank you,” he said, blinking the tears from his eyes. It was a good thing the coffee had a to-go lid. The way his hands were shaking, he’d be wearing it otherwise.
She nodded back, tight-lipped. “I’m happy to do it, though I wish I didn’t have to. I’ve got a nephew in Galleon Falls—well. You’re safe here. I personally guarantee that man will never step foot inside Cups again,” she said, patting his shoulder and heading back to the kitchen.
Christ. How fucked up was it that Greta Hornsby was coming to his defense? The entire town must think he was a pathetic mess.
They weren’t wrong, but it was better than them knowing how close he’d been to killing the guy.
What the fuck had Pete even been talking about?
It had to be some conspiracy theory bullshit from one of those podcasts always blaring from his truck.
Liam chewed his lip. Goddamn it. He needed to get Sarah out of that house.
Kelsey took the seat next to Liam as he hung his head. “You need to drink that coffee.”
He forced himself to take a sip and grimaced when he got a mouthful of sludgy sugar.
“You’ll thank me later, and you know I’d totally do it.”
“What, tear out his throat?” Liam asked, choking down another slurp and trying to play off everything that’d just happened. “Then you probably shouldn’t have announced it to the entire café.”
Kelsey clicked her tongue. “True, but we could make it look like an accident.”
Liam’s wolf howled to help, and he pushed the inclination down. “You’re not killing Pete Randall. If jaundice and his smell were anything to go by, his liver’s on borrowed time.”
His sister nodded, chewing a nail. “You’re right, he doesn’t deserve a mercy killing. You okay? I mean, duh, you’re not, but, you know,” she said, glancing around.
“Nope. Not even a little bit.” Him almost losing it aside, Pete had just outed him in gossip central.
Liam was about as far from okay as possible.
It wasn’t that he was ashamed of who he was, he was just still wrapping his head around it and wanted to get there on his own terms without the entire fucking town discussing his business.
… “No one’s ever ready, Liam. You just have to take life as it comes and hope for the best…”
Liam frowned and choked down another mouthful of coffee-flavored sugar. That was all well and good, but what was he supposed to do when it served up the worst?