2. Charlie

2

Charlie

PRESENT DAY

“Charlie, is that bread ready yet?” Lola’s voice carries from the front towards the kitchen. I smile as I slowly cut the cute flower design into the last loaf of the day. Sourdough was something entirely new for me two years ago. Now, I wake up and provide—in my humble opinion—the best-baked goods this side of the Aries River. Coming to work for Lola was the first time I felt like my life had meaning after Ryan’s death, and now I use my skills to escape reality behind pastries and loaves of bread.

“Yea, Lols. I’m just wrapping it up.” I yell back. The flour on my hands is quickly swatted away onto my favorite dark purple apron that says, ‘You’re my butter half.’ The words make me laugh softly to myself. My best friend Holly bought this for me when I started working here, though she is my butter half. I think that’s half the joke.

I grab the brown paper bag and flick it open as I slide the fresh loaf inside.

Lola stands at the register, chatting with Mrs. Anders. Lola’s dark brown eyes pinch with a smile as I approach. Lola is the kind of woman you would expect to own a bakery; she always has flour on her cheeks, she’s vertically challenged—like me—and we both wear a little more weight on our curves. Finally, despite her harsh Russian accent, she is the sweetest woman you’ll ever meet.

Mrs. Anders is a sixty-year-old pack member with gorgeous waist-length brown hair. She’s a regular and picks up a new loaf of fresh-baked sourdough at least twice a week. I’ve offered to teach her how to make the simple bread herself, but she always says mine is better, which makes my heart glow with pride.

Mrs. Anders takes her loaf and breathes deeply, “Thank you, Charlie. It smells so good today.”

“It does!” My head bobs like a shy bobble doll. Even though I love what I do, I haven’t mastered the social norms of being part of this Pack—being equal. Not many know my upbringing, and I have enjoyed keeping it that way. Everyone would look at me differently if they knew how I was raised.

“Thank you, Charlie,” Lola pats my arm, and I head back into the kitchen and pop my earbuds in. Benson Boone’s song blares, “Cry, go ahead and ruin someone else’s life.” The lyrics pull a sardonic laugh from me. I could think of one person who ruined my life. The quiet lull in the afternoon always leaves my head too much time to spiral. It doesn’t help that last weekend was the anniversary of his death. Maybe it’s the trauma of watching your person die or knowing you’ll forever be alone, but it always puts me in a weird mood, one I struggle to return from.

I was numb during my first year here, living in the Lodge or Pack House with the White family. Alpha White and Nan, his wife, were kind, but I was broken. Holly, their daughter, became my adopted sister. Despite our close relationship, she still doesn’t know what happened, not because of her lack of curiosity, but because of my unwillingness to relive the events of that night. Just like that rose I left crumpled on the floor, something died in me when I left Ryan behind.

On the second anniversary, I decided I needed to do something different. I asked Alpha White how I could help the Pack. He set me up with this gig. Now, I rent the condo over the Bakery. I have my own life. Lola has become the mom that I needed.

The song in my earbuds changes to a techno-dance version of Yellow Card’s, Ocean Avenue. Despite its unnaturally peppy beat, the music pulls at the already painful, oozing wound in the center of my chest.

I wish my brother could see me. See the smile I get when a loaf rises that perfect amount or when someone moans at a cinnamon roll I made. He could taste-test my frosting and crack jokes with me in the kitchen. My mind conjures up his voice as my hands wrap tightly to the metal table.

“Charlie, this one is good, but I think I need another one to ensure it’s just right.” My lips pull up slightly as a tear rolls from my cheek, shattering along the silver.

“I miss you, Ryan. Everyday.” I whisper to him.

Sucking in my nose, I press to stand, straighten my apron and quell the rising flood of tears I feel coming. Someone told me once that time will heal all wounds. But the grief I feel over losing my brother has been a constant in my life. No one tells you how it will disrupt your eating or sleeping, but neither I nor my wolf recovered from losing our Pack.

As if on cue, a soft whimper moves through my body. My sweet, kind, small wolf was only used to being around Ryan. Then, after he died, it’s like a part of her died with him. I swallow down the sob that threatens to burst free. I’m supposed to meet Holly for a run after work, but I’m not sure I have it in me. Putting on my smiley mask for the town takes a lot of energy, especially when going between forms. For as long as I’ve been here, my wolf does not have the same outward demeanor I do. She never accepted the Pack, and Holly is the only other wolf she will stand to be around.

She senses my pain, my grief over Ryan, and I feel her presence, a comforting weight against my side. ‘ Do you want to run? ’ I ask her in my mind, my voice barely a whisper. There’s a hesitation, a flicker of uncertainty, and a quiet ‘ yes.’

‘Okay.’ I say ‘I’ll let Holly know we’re still coming ,’ my voice steady despite the turmoil within. I glance around the kitchen, the familiar sights offering a small measure of comfort. Everything is prepared for tomorrow and in the fridge, ready to be thrown in the oven when Lols or I come in.

“I guess all I need to do is wipe everything down and grab a bag…” I say, my voice stronger now as I work through closing items. I hum along to the music, a feeble attempt to drown out the sadness that threatens to overwhelm me again. It’s healthy to mourn, I remind myself. Despite my past and my pain, I’m determined to put on a brave face. It’s the biggest reason I pushed to work at the bakery, to escape the constant reminder of my past.

When I was at the Lodge, I felt like a fugitive. I’m not a fugitive, but I was whispered about in the hallways or at dinner like I was one. It was never done intentionally, and maybe that’s why my wolf refused to be part of the Pack. She knew we weren’t meant to stay. We were being harbored and hidden.

Alpha Micheal White has been nice, but even he has kept his distance from me. I don’t know the details, but I do know that generally, there is a punishment for taking in wolves from other Packs without informing said Pack. There is so much I just don’t know. I wish I could’ve seen the letter and understood my brother’s plan. Instead, I feel stuck here, not really living, trapped between reality and the nightmare of my past.

A chill races down my spine as I head upstairs to my apartment. The thought of the other kind of life I was destined to live. I would’ve been trapped, tortured, and probably dead by now. I push through my doorway and take in the soft scent of home. Just as my phone rings, “Hey, Hols, I was just grabbing my bag.”

I hum along with her, and she briefly tells me about Emma and her brother while I pack. Emma is the newest resident in Solaris. She is a doctor and human, which has caused quite a stir around the Pack. We’ve never had a doctor or a human in town. She is also Alpha White’s son, Hunter’s, fated mate.

Hunter is the Pack Beta and is in charge of Pack safety. He’s been by Emma’s side since she drove off the road on her way into town. The man is smitten, and seeing him fold for her is heartwarming.

“I’ll see you in a few, Holly. I’m just heading downstairs,” I say, slipping my key into the old wooden door.

Throughout the summer, I travel around town on my trusty yellow beach cruiser. The small basket on the front is just big enough to hold the small overnight bag I packed. The sun shines brightly down on me, and I push all the emotions away and plaster on my smile, letting the sun’s heat burn through the nightmares that haunt me.

I give small waves to people as I whiz past. Thinking about Hunter and Emma, I smile more naturally. A fated mate is a fairytale I wish I believed in. It would be a powerful thing to hold on to. Though I’m not sure I’m made for loving anyone anymore, my love only seems to hurt those around me.

My entire body goes on high alert as I turn the corner to the back lot. There’s a different truck parked here; usually, this is where the White family parks. I slow my feet as I eye the truck nervously. It’s a lifted, deep red bronco, older and slightly rusted under the fender. I know it’s not Hunter’s, and Holly doesn’t drive. I pull at my other senses and breathe deeply. The smell is pleasant; a sharp pine mixed with rain.

Just as I’m about to take another deep breath, enjoying the fresh smell, Holly jumps down the stairs.

“Hey!” Her excitement has my head whipping towards her and smiling. Then my eyes flick back to the truck.

“Who’s is that?” I ask, my curiosity overriding my manners to greet my friend properly.

“Oh. The Bronco? That’s Jackson’s truck. He just got home.”

I smile at her theatrics. Holly hasn’t told me much about him, only that he served in the military for the last ten years. I also know he is supposed to take over as Alpha for this Pack. The idea sends a flutter of fear to my stomach that he won’t agree to hide me anymore. I know the agreement was made between Michael and my brother, and a new Alpha means new rules.

I want to ask Holly about it to ease the building worry that has me spiraling slowly. I don’t know much about Jackson, only that he was the black sheep of the family and left to serve in the military to better prepare for his role as Alpha. My wolf adds, ‘ meaning he’ll probably be strict on rules.’

‘Helpful. ’ I roll my eyes.

Holly’s hand gently grabs my elbow, “Are you ready to run?” she asks, pulling me from my thoughts. I breathe in deeply, enjoying the musky scent of pine.

“Let me drop my bag inside, and we can go.”

“Sounds good, I’ll wait here.”

I leave Holly at the base of the large back porch. I don’t even know if you can call this a porch. The structure is more like a veranda. They host many pack activities back here, and this is where most of the Pack meets to go for a run.

That musky pine scent hits me as I slide the door open. My eyes move from the knob on the door to the man sitting not thirty feet away eating at the table.

My lips part slightly as I smell the room again. He hasn’t noticed me, and I take a moment to observe him.

This must be him.

‘He’s massive,’ my wolf adds . I knew Hunter had a twin brother, but Jackson somehow looks bigger. His face has a thick beard covering his sharp jaw. His dark brown hair is longer on top with a slight curl. My hand tightens on the handle as I imagine what it would feel like to run my fingers through it.

I suck my bottom lip into my mouth as I drop my bag by the door. The sound causes his head to jerk up, and then our eyes meet; something inside of me flutters .

‘ Mate?’ My wolf whispers.

My smile falls, and I roll my lips into my mouth, pushing the sensation away as I flee back outside to Holly.

“You ready?” My sundress is over my head before I even let her answer. Tossing the rest of my clothes haphazardly into the cubby, my wolf is wide awake from the sight of Jackson, and I hear the back door open.

The fear that he is coming outside forces me to shift and run. I fight to stay in control in this form. I lost faith in my wolf when she tried to attack someone a while ago. She asks, ‘ Why are we running away from him?’

‘Because we don’t know him.’

Truthfully, I was scared of the feeling that fluttered inside my chest at just the sight of him.