“Did you encourage them, or was this their decision?” I wanted the truth. “Hasan, I don’t want family who don’t want me.”
“Jacky, they were willing to expose our kind to keep you alive. You are their younger sister. They mean what they say. Now, what Jabari said to you? He’s used to things being done a certain way and having a certain amount of control, something he doesn’t have with you. To him…you’re a rebellious teenager.”
“I’m thirty-six and just like to live my own life,” I reminded him.
“Yes. A child in our world. Don’t take his harshness to heart. You might be a well-balanced, functioning, human adult, but to a werecat, you’re still young. You try to live life by rules that no longer apply and cannot continue to apply.”
“You would tell me if you were angry, right? About everything?” It was complicated between Hasan and me. It always would be, but I had the same attitude with him as I did my human father. I got angry with his secrets, I craved his pride, and I wanted him to leave me alone. I leaned into his affection and snapped at his hand when I didn’t want it.
“You’ll know the day I get angry with you,” he whispered. It sent shivers down my spine. Oh, yes, I would. He would make sure everyone within a few hundred miles knew he was angry with me.
“Thanks for talking to me. Keep me updated?”
“I said I would. I’ll put you on the list of calls I have to make every time one of you is out getting into trouble.” He chuckled softly. “Sadly, being the youngest, you are last.”
“I figured. Did they all get calls from you about me?”
“I call them about you more than you can imagine,” he said with a bite. “But yes, when you were called to Duty, and everything happened, they all heard about it as I did.”
I wonder why else he calls them about me. It’s not like I do much of anything.
“All right, well, I have to go. Bye!” I hung up as he replied with his own goodbye.
I felt a little better, glad to know he didn’t blame me and wasn’t angry like so many others. That was enough to put me at ease to take the nap I had been craving—social activity took it out of me.
Chapter Five
I picked up Carey promptly at four in the afternoon at the family’s dark brown brick, two-story farmhouse. She had just enough time every Monday to do two things—eat a snack and do her homework. She wasn’t allowed to come with me until the homework was done. The snack was just her preference.
“Stay out of trouble,” Heath said to her as he walked her to my car. “And don’t give Jacky a hard time.”
“I never do, Dad!” Carey rolled her eyes at me as she stepped in front of her dad and grabbed the door. Months before, she had let him open the door for her. Now, she was doing it herself, and every time Heath tried to do it, he felt the sting of his little girl not wanting his help. How did I know? I could see and smell it, but past that, I was once the same little girl, rejecting the help of an adult because I could do it myself.
The poor man is never going to survive her teenage years.
“So, what are we doing today?” Carey grinned at me as she put her seat belt on. I lowered her car window so Heath could say something before we drove away.
“I was thinking we would try baking that cookie recipe. The one I told you about last week.”
“The strawberry ones?” Her face lit up like the sun.
“Yup. What do you need, Heath?” I looked around her and smiled at her father, knowing he was probably getting annoyed with waiting.
“I want her home by nine tonight. You can feed her dinner. I’ve got calls to make, it seems, and she’s better off with you while Landon and I work.”
“A whole extra hour…” I sighed. “Fine.” I dragged it out, smirking at Carey, whose laugh echoed around my car.
“Funny.” Heath shook his head in disapproval before kissing his daughter’s forehead and stepping back up onto the dark wood, wraparound porch.
“He loves you,” I whispered to her, closing the window. “Let him open the door sometimes.”
“It’s weird. I can open the door by myself.”
He’s trying to teach you what a gentleman does. I didn’t say that to her, but it ran across my mind. How many times had I talked to Shane about that? How women looked to their fathers, who were great or terrible examples of men. Heath was a great father, there was no denying that, and I knew Carey wouldn’t recognize how good for at least another few years. Maybe when a boy breaks her heart for the first time or hurts her feelings.
“Just do it. He’ll appreciate letting you remind him you’re still his little girl.”
“No one opens your doors. Or pays for you. Or anything like that.” She shrugged like that was explanation enough.
“Because I’m an adult.” And I would love a man to open the door for me if he wants to sleep with me, but that’s not something I can tell you. “And he’s not my father. My father will still try to open the door for me.” I pulled out of the driveway and began the short drive home with her. She had this intense look of concentration on her face for a moment then popped a question I was expecting.
“Your human dad or your werecat dad?”
“Both,” I answered, trying to sound nonchalant. “But my human dad doesn’t know where I am or can’t see me anymore.”
“Could he find you? If something bad happens?”
“No,” I murmured, shaking my head. “I took the last name, Leon, right after I was Changed. It’s common for our kind. Not that last name specifically, just a new one. I thought I was being funny.”
“What’s your real name?”
I gave her a side-eyed expression, letting her know she wasn’t going to learn that ever. Heath knew and he’d been able to track down my human family. When I thought about it, it was funny. He could back track my life to humanity and learn about me, but he couldn’t find anything about my werecat life. Oh, he’d found fake names and bank accounts, which had taken him years to put together, but he couldn’t connect me with Hasan or the rest of the family, something the family took a lot of care with, not only for my privacy but also for theirs. Unless someone knew beforehand, they weren’t going to find out without someone in the family telling them. Since werecats never offered that information to outsiders, the secret was safe.
“Why are you so nosy today?” I asked as I turned down the highway to get to my bar.
“Because I can.” She gave the same nonchalant shrug from earlier. “I like hearing about you. You’re my friend.”
“Thank you.” I smiled down at her. “Cookies and cards tonight, though. I’m not up for a lot of heavy conversation.”
“Okay.” She smiled back and pulled her legs up to her chest, sitting in a little secure ball in the passenger’s seat. “You know my birthday is next month, right?”
“Yup. It’s marked on my calendar. Twelve years old. You excited?”
“Not really. It’s another year closer to sixteen, though, when I get to learn to drive.”
Priorities. Carey had the right priorities.
“Well, what do you want this year? Twelve is important, too, you know.”
“Not really!” With a huff, she sagged into the seat. “I don’t know what I want. Dad’s been asking too, and I just don’t know what to tell him. What did you want for your birthday?”
“I…” I realized that I couldn’t remember. Damn dead spot in my memory. Part of me wondered if it was from the car accident. Hasan didn’t know of anyone else who had lost so much of their memory during the Change. It was common for werecats to lose bits and pieces, but I lost nearly six years of my childhood. “I don’t remember, actually.”
“Then it can’t be that important.” Carey crossed her arms. “Maybe I’ll ask for a dirt bike like the one you have.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll love that…”
Carey laughed, but I could tell she was strongly considering it. Amazing. Heath was going to be so mad at me for that if he had a problem with dirt bikes. He’d bought a large piece of property between Tyler and Jacksonville, so maybe he would be fine with it, but I knew his property was so he and Landon could shift during the full moon, not for Carey to run around and get bitten by snakes or break her arm on a dirt bike.
I pulled in front of the bar, closed on Mondays like normal, and unlocked the door for her to follow me in, climbing the back stairs together to my small apartment. I pointed to the table, a silent order for her to park her butt in a chair while I got stuff out for cookies. It was ritual now. Monday was the day she came over, asked me girl questions, or just wanted to talk to an adult who wasn’t her father or brother. We cooked, baked, played video games, anything either of us was interested in. Once, I took her walking on some of the trails behind the bar, keeping her away from my house.
“Any cute guys at school? Or girls?” I asked, pulling out everything we needed from the fridge and pantry.
“No. They all know my dad is a werewolf which means they think I might be a werewolf—”
“We’ve already established you go to school with shit kids,” I reminded her. “But not all of them are shitty. Are there any you like at all?”
She shrugged. “Dad says I need to hang out with other kids my age, but…I’ve always hung out with werewolves and werewolf families. Normal kids are…boring. And scared of me. And my dad.”
“Yeah, I know.” I tried to give her a sympathetic look as I put two bowls down on the table. “Is anyone teasing you?”
“You can’t tell Dad,” she said pointedly.
“I don’t tell your dad anything.”
“Then, yeah, there are a couple of boys who tease me. Never enough to tell the teacher. A few of the girls move away from me when I try to sit with them. It’s not a big deal. My old school was like this too, and it’s okay. I still see my tutors on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and those kids aren’t as smart as me.”