Brothersong (Green Creek #4) - T.J. Klune Page 0,101

Chris said. “I don’t know that you have any room to talk.”

“Can you please keep your deviancy to yourself?” Rico snapped. “My child is present.”

“Oh please,” Bambi said. “He’s four months old. He doesn’t understand anything. Babies are dumb that way.”

Rico looked offended as he leaned down and kissed his son’s forehead. “Don’t you listen to the big, bad wolves. Or your mean mother. You’re the smartest child who has ever lived. I promise.”

And it was then that Gavin decided he’d had enough conversation. He reached down and picked up a handful of mashed potatoes, then shoved them in his mouth. He chewed noisily, grunting as bits of potato stuck to his chin and nose. He swallowed, then picked up a slice of meatloaf and tore into it.

He must have felt us all staring at him, because he stopped chewing. “What?” he said through a mouthful of meat.

“Dude,” I told him. “You have a fork. And a spoon.”

He looked down at the cutlery next to his plate before turning back to me. “I don’t like them. Easier. Goes to the same place. My mouth. Don’t call me dude.”

“Use your fork.”

“No.”

“Gavin, I swear to god, if you—don’t do it. Don’t pick the mashed potatoes up again with your hand.”

He stared at me as he did it anyway. Making sure I was watching, he shoved the food into his mouth again.

I grimaced at the sight. I picked up his fork and put it into his other hand. He scowled at it, gripping it as if it were a weapon. He brought it to his face, sniffing the tines. His nose wrinkled and he tossed it down on the table.

“Gavin.”

“No.”

“Gavin.”

“Carter,” he said in the same exasperated tone.

“Use your fork.”

“Hands work,” he argued. “I had no forks. No spoons. I had a knife once. But it broke.” He frowned. “Or I lost it. I don’t know.”

“Would you just listen to me?”

“I always have to,” he retorted. “Never stop talking.”

I was outraged. “Oh, here we go. This again. Maybe if you—”

Gordo chuckled, rusty and soft. I looked over to see him with a hand full of mashed potatoes. Mark was staring at him in horror as he ate from his hand. “It’s not so bad,” he said. “Feels weird, though.”

“You’re not helping,” I said.

He shrugged. “Let him do what he wants. It’s not hurting anyone.”

“It’s hurting me.”

“Really?” Gavin asked, looking down at his plate.

“No,” Mom said. “Not really. Gavin, you do what you want. Carter’s always been a bit of a drama queen.”

I sighed as Gavin beamed at her.

And if half of the people at the table used their hands for the rest of the meal, well. They were wolves, I told myself. They didn’t know any better.

Apparently I didn’t either.

JOE SAID, “CASWELL IS SECURE. It’s safe, or at least as safe as it can be. I have people I trust there, people who work for the greater good. They understand the importance of pack. And while not everyone is happy about it, they’ve put their differences aside. Regardless of what else Michelle Hughes was or what she’d done, they trusted her, for the most part. She’d been their Alpha for years. They had no reason to believe she was in with Robert Livingstone.” He tapped his fingers on our father’s desk. “Some of them left. They didn’t want me as their Alpha. I didn’t stop them. They had a right to choose the life they wanted.”

We were in the office. Ox stood by the window, looking out into the trees, hands clasped behind him. Gordo sat near him, Mark on the armrest of the same chair, his hand on the back of Gordo’s head. Kelly stood near Joe, his eyes on me and Gavin, who had decided he wanted to hide behind me again. Mom was next to him, not speaking, just watching. The others were still in the house, listening, Tanner filling in Bambi and Jessie about what was being said. They’d wanted to give Gavin space.

I shook my head. “And you just let them go.”

“Yes,” Joe said. “I did. Because I never want to force anyone to be somewhere they don’t want to be. I made sure they found places with other packs, so at least they’ll have temporary bonds until they figure out what they want to do.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I know how it sounds, Carter. But I’m not the kind of Alpha who asserts his will over everyone, their own feelings be damned. Dad taught

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