PRESENT
Sheridan
THE BLACK CAR is at it again, cruising slowly past my house while I watch through the blinds. I know it’s Nero. Stupid vampire has a death wish.
He’s going to find out I’m not a victim.
My phone rings with an unknown Tucson number. Could it be Trey? I’ve called him numerous times today, but he’s only sent me short text replies saying he’s up to his ears and will call me later.
“Hello?” I answer breathlessly.
“Sheridan.”
My shoulders slump. “Dad.”
Wait. I pull the phone away to check the screen again. “What are you doing with a Tucson number?”
“I’m in town on business. Pack business. Cleaning up the mess Garrett’s wolves have made.”
“Hey,” I defend. “That had nothing to do with pack business. It was the vampires messing with them. Don’t blame Garrett or his pack. They don’t deserve it.”
“So you say,” my dad sniffs. “But we are all involved now. I’m actually calling because I am hearing disturbing rumors of your behavior.”
“My behavior?” I got hot, then cold. Stop it, Sheridan. I’m a grown adult. I shouldn’t be worried that I upset my daddy.
“Yes, Sheridan. Rumors that you’ve been hanging around with the Robson boy.”
“He’s not a boy, Dad. He’s a man.” A big man. “And I’m an adult wolf. I can hang around whomever I want.”
“Not if you want to look responsible in the eyes of the pack.”
“What does it matter how I look? I am responsible. Besides, it’s not anyone’s business.”
“It is my business.” My father pulls out his stern sit and stay when I tell you voice. “I am your father.”
“Yes, but you don’t tell me who to mate.”
He sucks in a breath. “It’s that serious then?”
“Maybe.” Trey hasn’t returned my calls all day, but my dad doesn’t need to know that. “I thought you wanted grandpups.”
“With a good, upstanding wolf from a respectable pack. Not a… a…”
“Son of a factory worker?”
My father growls instead of answering.
“Owner of a shifter fight club?” My anger simmers. It’s about time I called my dad on his obsession with pack hierarchy. “Or is it the fact that he’s tattooed and owns a motorcycle that bothers you. ‘Cause you know who had tats and rode a bike? Your own son, that’s who.” I bite back my words before I say something I can’t take back. It’s not my folks’ fault my brother had a wild streak, that he died on his bike, doing what he loved.
“I know that,” my dad snarls. “It’s not any of those things. This Robson boy isn’t good enough for you.”
“Maybe not.” I slump onto my desk, suddenly tired. Why am I defending someone who marked me, but still hasn’t forgiven me? “He’s a business owner and loyal pack member, who stuck out his neck to follow his dream. Isn’t that worth something? Better than me, going to college and stepping into a position my dad pulled strings to get. It doesn’t matter what degrees I have, being your daughter got me my job and gets me my promotions. I work hard, but if I wasn’t a Green, I would have to work twice as hard to move up.” Which is what Trey’s done. “Maybe I should leave the brewery and get a starter position in another company. I might have to work the factory floor, but at least I’d know I earned it.”
“You are not going to throw your education away,” my dad snaps.
I shift on the desk and let the silence speak for me.
After a minute, my dad sighs. “Honey, you know I love you. I want what’s best for you.”
“I know.” I realize I’m toying with the wisdom quote calendar. I haven’t torn off the days in over a week. I knock it over instead. “Look, just let me do my job here? I’m doing my best. Do you trust me?”
When I finally get my dad off the phone, I shoot Trey a text. “Coming over tonight?” I wait for a minute, staring at the phone, but he doesn’t text back. The bite on my shoulder aches and I rub it soothingly. Relax, it’s only been a minute. He’s not mad at you. He just hasn’t had a chance to see the phone.
Gnawing my lip, I check out the window. The black car is gone. Which reminds me-someone should go to Toxic and formally tell Frangelico about what happened today. Even if his spies reported all the details, the pack should make contact, and because I’ve already visited Toxic, is should be me. Garrett’s probably up to his eyeballs dealing with his dad. I shoot my cousin a quick text. By the time I’ve picked out an outfit-a practical black skirt and top that I could were to the U. N.-or a paranormal equivalent-Garrett’s texted back a green light. “Sounds good. Bring backup.”
Of course. Backup. I’ll just call Trey. It’s not like there’s anything complicated going on between me and him.
My mating mark throbs as the phone rings and goes to voicemail. Voicemail? Seriously?
I hang up and set the phone down instead of chunking it across the room. There. Nice and professional. No need to get emotional. It’s not like he’s avoiding me.
I spend a good long time blowing out my hair. I’m about to start makeup when a chirp from my phone has me fumbling to see who it is. Really, Sheridan? Desperate much? It’s an email from Garrett to the pack, informing us of a pack meeting. I’m bcc’d. Nice of him to include me. I forward it to my dad and let him know I’ll be attending to represent the Phoenix pack. Business concluded.