Claws & Crochet

Part 75

WARNER

I wait until she's asleep before sliding away. Before I even leave the bedroom, I know that all of Zoey's brothers are still awake. Discovering their sister broken and bleeding had to be a shock. It takes time for that to wear off.

When I walk down the hall into the main room, four sets of eyes focus on me.

The Gunner boys are gathered around the kitchen table, each one clutching a hand of cards, and the two I think are Byron and Carver have beers beside them.

"How's she doing?" Abram throws out the question, sounding almost angry about having to ask it.

More like having to ask me.

"She's sleeping." I want to be back with her, lying close in that bed, making sure that each one of her precious breaths is still coming.

But I have questions.

I wish I didn't. The answers probably aren't going to help warm them to the idea of Zoey staying in Pine Falls.

"Has anyone been by the cabin? Other than Courtney and me?"

Every brother frowns, and Abram stands from his chair. "Why?"

I shake my head. "It's just a thought. Anyone have a flashlight?"

The youngest brother moves from his seat and pulls open a closet, coming up with a heavy-duty flashlight, and I head for the back door.

"Byron, Carver. Stay here. Donovan with me." Abram hands out the orders like the brothers are their own military unit.

I get the sudden sense that Zoey's oldest brother would get along with mine. Or Roderick might murder him. It's a fine line when you have two personalities so similar.

The two Gunners follow me out into the yard. Damp ground gives slightly under my feet, and I silently curse the evening rains we've been getting. The water washes away helpful scents that might normally have clung.

When we come upon the wreckage of the treehouse, I fight the urge to sprint back to the cabin to make sure Zoey is still breathing.

What was once a sturdy structure is now a crumpled mess. What's left of the frame lays on its side, but mainly the ground is covered in broken pieces of wood. The little house exploded on impact. And Zoey was trapped inside.

Despite the rain, her scent lingers. But not the enticing sweetness of maple. What I pick up transports me back to that night on the backroad, when she thought she was dreaming. I shine the light over the boards, settling on a section with red stains.

Her blood.

I can't fully stifle the growl crawling out of my throat, but I'm at least able to mute it to something more human sounding.

"What are you looking for?" The youngest brother, Donovan, asks, coming up beside me, his eyes blank even as his fists clench.

I suck in a few deep breaths, pulling on my sanity and moving the light in search of a few particular pieces of wood.

"When Zoey first told me she was climbing up in the treehouse, I was worried it wasn't stable."

"Big fucking help, your worries," Abram scoffs.

I round on him, the growl coming again. He flinches but doesn't back away, scowling at me.

"Seems I need to remind you this happened on your watch."

He bares his teeth, and opens his mouth, but Donovan cuts him off.

"Why are we out here now? You thought it was unstable. It was. End of story."

"No. Not the end." I rein in my anger. "Because I was worried, I checked it over. The whole structure. Even climbed up in it and tested it myself. The beams were solid. Nothing should've knocked it down without a hell of an effort. Definitely not your sister just stepping in it."

The two men remain quiet, but I feel their eyes on me as I pick through the wreckage. Finally, I find what I'm looking for. One of the main support beams.

The wood is cracked near in half. If that happened just because of weight, there'd be splintering at the fracture.

But the break is clean.

"Someone cut this." I offer the wood for their examination.

"Fuck," Donovan mutters. Even in the dim light, I can see the rigid set to Abram's entire face.

"You think someone tried to hurt Zoey on purpose?" He asks.

My hands clench on air, wanting to tear into something just at the thought. "I don't know. But I'm not seeing any other reason for someone to take a saw to the treehouse."

The three of us search through the rest of the wood pieces, finding another with similar cuts. We bring them back to the house with us and relate the finding to the other Gunner boys.

"So, we talk to the cops, right?"

I nod. But the gesture is only meant to placate them. The cops in this town are either useless, or they're wolves. If this was some trouble between humans then the cops would have to handle it.

But Zoey is mine. That makes this wolf business.

Roderick is the one who needs to be informed. He's the one who will help me hunt down whoever is out to hurt the woman I love.

Let the Gunners go to the cops if it makes them feel better. The human police are good for handing out speeding tickets or breaking up a brawl at a bar. There's not a detective amongst them. The wolves on the force are smarter, but they'll soon know this is pack business and keep it off the books.

Whoever has been tormenting my mate will answer to a different set of laws.

Abram, who's been planning his trip to the station the next morning, cuts off his words abruptly when the bedroom door creaks open.

Zoey wanders out, her eyes heavy with sleep, hair an adorable mess around her bruised face. She takes in our gathering, eyebrows curving up when she finds the five of us examining her.

The oldest Gunner is the first to speak. "What's wrong? Are you okay? Are you bleeding? What do you need?"

She twists her lips in a smirk before answering. "I need to pee. Did you all want to help me with that?"

Abram clears his throat, a red flush spreading over his cheeks. "Do you need help?"

Zoey leans against the wall, staring at her older brother. Then suddenly, like the sunrise has come early, a smile splits across her face, threatening to blind us all.

"Don't ever change, Bam Bam." She turns toward the bathroom, calling over her shoulder. "Fair warning. Anyone who tries to barge into the bathroom while I'm using it is getting a swirly." She shuts the door with a definitive click.

I'm the first one to chuckle, then Carver breaks into loud, snorting laughter, while Donovan covers a wide grin with his hand. Abram has taken on the color of a strawberry but also seems to be fighting a smile, while Byron rolls his eyes and deals another hand of cards.

"You want in, biker boy?" The guy asks as he pauses in the process of divvying them out.

The offer is tempting. Possibly an olive branch, a door cracked so I could pull it wider and find a place in the Gunner family.

For a second, I consider saying yes. I want Zoey's brothers to like me. To accept me.

But the sound of a toilet flushing and water running filters through the walls. In a moment, Zoey will be back in her bed, and there's nothing I want more than to be near her.

"Raincheck. I'm going to stay with Zoey."

The four sets of eyes all come to me again, but it's only Abram who speaks.

"That's the right choice."