Chapter 2
Chapter two
Clark "Fin" Finley
“See you in an hour,” Fowler called out as he left the shop to go have lunch with his mate. He was always checking in when he’d be working or going anywhere, but I’d been working mostly alone for years. I didn’t need anyone checking up on me.
But Fowler King was our new Alpha, and he was trying to make up for the ten years he was away.
In my eyes, he left for good reason. His dad was my best friend, but David King was a flawed man.
Before his wife died, I would have sworn to anyone who asked that David was one of the best people I knew.
Loyal, kind, funny, honest…A wonderful husband and father in addition to everything he did for the town of Blue Lake.
David was the reason I adopted my son, and why I never bothered finding a partner of my own. How could I find someone more perfect than him? It didn't matter he was straight and had no clue I harbored a life-long crush. That was my own burden to carry.
When Amy died giving birth to their second child, my best friend was no longer that solid rock we all relied on.
I gave up my silent pining, because there was too much to do.
I kept the pack and business afloat while he lost his mental and physical health to the bottle and anything that would help him forget.
My mind didn’t like to think of those years, and instead moved on to compare him to Enrique Bravo Senior. “Bravo,” as we all called him since high school, was the pack enforcer. He liked to hurt people a little too much, but he was our friend.
I didn’t know he was hurting his wife and child until the man died driving high on his motorcycle.
David got drunk at the funeral and asked why his son and widow weren’t crying.
That’s when Ricky told us they hated the man and were glad he died so his mom couldn’t be Bravo’s punching bag anymore.
David shut up and I felt guilty none of us had known.
Ricky’s mom, Celeste, made me promise to look out for her boy when she went back to Cuba to live with her parents. He was already an adult, traveling around the country and abroad with MMA, but I took the promise to heart.
Which was why I nearly choked on my tongue when the young man walked into the shop with his shirt tucked into a back pocket.
His body was chiseled with muscle, fuzzy with black hair on his chest and in a trail leading to his low-slung athletic shorts.
There were random tattoos snaking up his right arm, and I remembered he was left-handed, like me.
When my eyes made it back to Ricky’s face, he was smirking like he caught me looking. Brat.
“What do you want?” I grumbled, gruffer than normal at being confronted by his half-naked body in the middle of the work day.
Turning on my stool, I tried to focus on the engine I was repairing, but I couldn’t remember what I was doing before the interruption. I stared at the parts, trying to work out where I’d left off.
From the corner of eye, I saw Ricky move to the punching bag hanging in the front corner by the open garage door.
He’d been hanging out in the shop, hitting the bag since he was a teenager.
His flirting started in his twenties, but it felt different after I knew how his lips felt stretched around my dick.
“Hi to you, too, old man,” Ricky finally replied before starting a round of practiced punches.
Realizing I wasn’t moving, only staring at the engine of a Harley, I turned back to watch his form. He was good. I didn’t know why he quit mixed martial arts. I watched a few fights and he had serious talent.
Ricky had a mischievous streak like his father, and clearly liked hurting people for fun, but so far hadn’t shown himself to be an abusive asshole. Just a distracting and audacious flirt with everyone.
After a minute or two, I grabbed my wrench and went back to work, pausing only when I heard the punching stop. I had no clue how long it had been since my focus had been on looking like I didn’t care, it felt like hours.
Ricky was breathing a little harder, and I glanced over to find him covered in a fine sheen of sweat. He was too fucking tempting. Ignoring him was the best course of action if I wanted to stay sane. Sure, we were in the same pack, but that didn’t mean I had to talk to the younger man.
“See you around,” Ricky called out and left without waiting for my reply. I breathed a sigh of relief and went back to the bike.
Less than five minutes later, I heard steps approaching. I expected to see Fowler back from lunch, or Ricky back to annoy me, but it was someone much better.
“Superman?” Rowen called out as he walked into view out of the midday sun.
Standing to greet my boy, I couldn’t help the giant smile on my face. “Hey, kiddo. Good to see you.”
Knowing he didn’t care about grease, being a boat mechanic himself, I embraced him.
Rowen had reached my height a decade ago, but it was still weird for me that he was grown.
Over twenty years after adopting him as a malnourished six year old, he was living on the lake with his own company. And his own partner.
Pulling back to let him go, I asked, “How’s Cam?”
Rowen’s grin got even bigger around his thick, red beard thinking about the person who stole his heart. Cam Bass was a barista at the café across the street, and I saw a lot of them. Thankfully, I approved and found Cam to be my son’s perfect match, or that would be awkward.
“Cam’s great,” Rowen gushed. “They made me a new drink this morning with cinnamon and rice. Horchata I think? I didn’t have high hopes but it was really good. Said they’ll make it for you the next time you stop by.”
“Sounds interesting. Is it caffeinated?” I asked, leaning on the work bench since Rowen seemed to be in a chatting mood.
“Nope,” Rowen shook his head. “They said it’s an anytime drink.”
We talked some more about Cam’s drinks and how they were doing, and then Rowen asked me a question I hated. “What about you? Are you getting back out there?”
Chuckling awkwardly, I grabbed a rag to have something to do. “I’d have to be out there to begin with.”
Rowen tilted his head like he did as a boy, assessing me with his keen eyes. My boy wasn’t a wolf like the rest of the pack, but he was still a shifter. “You don’t want to find your person?”
He sounded like David did when the man I wanted most fell for his high school sweetheart and they mated. The truth was that it broke my heart, and I didn’t want anyone else. But I wasn’t going to tell Rowen about that.
Scoffing, I tossed the rag down and started organizing my wrenches since Fowler liked to move things around to mess with me.
“Happy couples always think everyone else needs to find the same thing as them to be happy,” I pointed out, trying to keep the bitterness out of my tone.
“Knowing you’re settled is good enough for me. ”
Rowen held his breath for a moment, and I could tell I wasn’t fully convincing. “I am happy with Cam, but I hate seeing you lonely.”
Loneliness had been my constant companion for so long, I didn’t know how to be without it.
Running a pack of shifters, most of whom I watched grow up, should have led to the opposite.
Instead of fulfilling, I felt empty inside.
Especially with Fowler taking over the pack.
I was hollowed out and over the hill. Not suitable for finding a partner.
Rowan touched my shoulder and spoke again, “Time for you to find your own happiness, Superman.”
The sincerity in his voice kept me from getting surly. I didn’t know where to start with working on my own shit, but I knew it would have to come from me. One thing I learned from my friends was that change didn’t come from people telling you to do it.
Change had to come from within.