Gillian

God this sucks. Why am I doing this again?

Oh, yeah. To prove I can make it on my own. Because apparently I'm a stubborn idiot.

That oppressively hot and sticky Friday evening, Godwin currently knelt as she picked up broken pieces of the glass sundae cup the bratty human toddler had flung to the floor.

A full sundae cup she'd just brought the kid after he'd wasted five minutes of her time changing his mind between hot chocolate and strawberry toppings.

One of the other waitresses, a clueless human, hurried over with a dustpan and a wad of paper towels.

"Here, let me help, hon," Lottie said as she knelt next to .

"Thanks," muttered, trying not to shoot a murderous glare at the parents.

At least the father looked slightly mortified. "Can we help you clean that up?" he tentatively asked.

"No, it's okay," tightly said. "We've got it."

"I WANT ANOTHER ONE!" the brat screeched.

"Stop!" the mother hissed at him. It must have been a rare event because the kid looked shocked and shut up. "You are not getting another one! You should not have thrown that one on the floor. In fact, when we get home, you're going straight to bed. Now apologize!"

Even the father looked wide-eyed with shock.

Okay, maybe they don't suck as much as I thought.

"Sorry," the brat mumbled.

"I'm really sorry about this," the woman said

"It's okay." forced a smile. "Been a long, hot day for everyone."

It sure had. July in Spokane, and they'd hit a balmy 110 degrees that afternoon, and it was muggy as hell. Several of their customers had been snippy that day, likely cranky due to the unusual heat spell. This time of year they should be in the mid-80s, tops, without all this humidity.

"No, it's not okay," the mother said. "And please make sure it's on our tab."

Well, maybe this long-assed day was looking up after all.

When tabbed them out and collected the check presenter after they left, she was pleasantly shocked to find even though the parents had paid the bill with a credit card they left her a $50 tip.

Cash.

Well, that's more like it.

She pocketed the money and returned to the back to check on another order. When she passed Lottie, her friend gave her a knowing nod and she wondered if the other waitress had somehow persuaded the couple to pony up a guilt tip. The older woman had worked at the restaurant for over twenty years and everyone in Spokane seemed to know her. She was like a mom to the staff and long-time customers.

The rest of the evening petered out earlier than average, and after helped catch up with a few tasks she went to the owner, Phil.

"Mind if I cut out early? I've got a test Monday morning I want to study for."

"Go ahead. We've got it. When's graduation?"

"Hopefully in two semesters, as long as I don't flub anything."

"My nephew graduated from Gonzaga a couple of years ago. Said it was a good school."

"It is." really wanted to leave but the guy had been really nice about giving her flexible hours while she was in law school.

"Well, see you Monday? Evening shift?"

She nodded. "Monday at five."

"Have a good one, kid."

said her good-byes and headed out, taking a moment to savor the cold blast of the AC from the dash vent before driving the short distance home. To her parents' dismay she occupied a tiny third-floor efficiency apartment in an older building in one of the dingier sections of Spokane, but she paid her bills without help from her parents or the pack. That was due in no small part to the academic scholarships she'd earned. She'd purchased her second-hand car all on her own, too. And she wouldn't deny she was proud of those accomplishments.

Her parents had raised and her siblings in Seattle, and on Satan's ass-crack days like this she did miss living there.

Not that she'd ever admit that to her mother.

But she really wanted to make it on her own despite knowing all she had to do was hold out a paw to her parents—or the pack—and they'd give her whatever she asked for.

When locked her front door behind her she paused only long enough to turn the thermostat down to 67 and then headed straight to the bathroom to take a long, cool shower to scrub the restaurant's smells off her.

Why am I doing this to myself again? Oh, yeah. I'm an idiot.

Yes, there were pack-owned—or packmate-owned—restaurants in the area where she could work. Not need to worry about tips because they paid way more than a living wage to their packmates. Even other businesses she could be working at.

But in the two years since Charles and Chelsea Bleacke were brutally murdered in their own home on the pack compound, a murder that had gone unsolved and unpunished, it horrified her parents that wouldn't let them move her home to Seattle and transfer to a law school there.

felt this was where she needed to be. Even before tragedy struck their pack, the thought of going to college anywhere but in Spokane had just felt…wrong, for some reason. Seattle was great, but she'd always felt more at home in this area. And she managed to drive to the Targhee Pack compound just over the state line in Idaho at least once a month, where she could take long runs without fear of encountering clueless humans.

She'd met Charles and Chelsea Bleacke—their former Pack Alpha and his mate—several times as a kid when they'd visited Seattle to check on packmates. But since attending college in Spokane she'd grown closer to them, had even attended group dinners with them a few times during visits to the pack compound.

Losing them burned a hole through her soul in ways she knew she didn't have a monopoly on, because it wasn't like she was their daughter. Still, it'd hurt. It filled her with regret she didn't get to spend more time with them.

knew she wanted to be an attorney from a young age while watching old black and white Perry Mason reruns with her grandfather. Solve murders? Put bad guys away? Absolutely!

As she grew and matured and finally understood what it meant to be a wolf shifter in a world overwhelmingly populated by humans, 's views…shifted as well.

Being a lawyer wasn't just about criminal law, but also about doing things to help protect the pack. Be useful to the pack.

When she'd graduated from high school a year early, with honors, and visited the pack compound the next weekend for a graduation party, she remembered how Charles and Chelsea made a point of telling her how proud of her they were, and she remembered her pleasant surprise that they even knew her name, much less her academic standing. Not that her own parents weren't supportive, because they were, but knew if she decided to look for a mate and settle down and pop out pups that her parents would be tickled by that.

Especially her mother.

When she'd told Charles and Chelsea she wanted to be an attorney so she could contribute to the pack, they'd approved of that plan and even offered to pay her tuition. But when she'd informed them she already had scholarships…

Well, they'd positively beamed.

And for the first time in her life, had honestly felt like an adult in her pack, as stupid as that sounded. When she told the Bleackes that, for now, she preferred to try to work to support herself, they made her promise to reach out to the pack if she ever needed help.

Hell, she'd likely live a lot of years and would one day welcome a pack pension. But she didn't want to be like two of her older cousins on her father's side, who were spoiled brats who never tried to work hard at anything because they knew there was a safety net to catch them.

She'd attended Charles and Chelsea's funeral but she couldn't bring herself to move any closer than hanging out on the fringes of the crowd, and she didn't stay long or personally speak with Peyton and Trent, their sons. There were too many others there who'd known the couple for far longer, were closer to them than had been, and she hadn't wanted to monopolize the brothers' time.

She'd met Trent several times, but he wasn't their new Pack Alpha. Peyton, the younger brother and only a year older than her, was a Prime Alpha. Trent, only an Alpha and four years older than , had taken a knee to Peyton in front of the pack and ceded authority as Pack Alpha to him, becoming Peyton's second.

Or so she heard, because she wasn't there for that. Not many were, because it'd all happened so fast and the brothers were not only devastated by their parents' murders, but also enraged and wanting justice—and they now shouldered the burden of running the Pack's extensive business empire.

Plus the two men were now raising their baby sister, Dewi, also severely wounded during the same attack.

squirted a copious amount of body wash onto her scrubby, scoured her flesh with it, and then stood under the water and let it sluice away the scent of grease and spaghetti and hamburgers and everything else. That was the downside of working at a restaurant—her lupine nose smelled everything.

Next weekend, after taking her last test of the week, she'd drive to the pack compound Saturday and go for a run. Park at the Great Hall, shift, and just wear herself out. She could shower there, drive back to Spokane, and collapse and relax all day Sunday. She'd traded one of the waitresses the more lucrative Saturday evening shift for the Monday evening one because knew she needed the run.

Boy, do I.

She was curled up on her sofa going through a textbook and class notes when her cellphone rang.

Without even looking at it, she grabbed it and thumbed it into speaker mode. "I'm not murdered and carved up, Mom."

"Do you have to answer the phone like that every time I call?"

"When you call this late on a Friday night when I'm studying, yes." She finally looked up from her book. "Proof of life given. Can I go back to studying now?"

Her mother made that familiar and annoying tsking sound. "You don't have to do this, you know. Law degrees from Seattle U or UofW are also respectable. You could be living at home and not working at that…place."

This also annoyed . "Mom, will there ever come a day you stop trying to get me to suck off the pack's teat?"

"Well what's the pack for if not to help out? There's nothing wrong with that! At least let your father put in a call to Trent Bleacke to—"

"No, Mom." felt the urge to growl and somehow choked it back. was a beta but her mom was an omega. As grew up she realized it would be far too easy to walk all over her mother and hurt her feelings.

Yet another reason she didn't want to live with them.

Self-awareness FTW, yo.

"No," said again, gentler this time. "Look, I'm almost finished with school. Two more semesters. Then I take the bar and I'll go talk to him about working for the pack. But I want to be hired on my merits, not have things handed to me because I'm part of the Targhee Pack."

Her mother sniffled. "The latest newsletter arrived today. Still no leads."

Ah. didn't need to be a Prime Alpha to read her mom's thoughts over the phone all the way from the other end of the damned state to know the true reason she'd called.

"Mom, whoever killed them is long gone. You know that. The likelihood of me ever crossing paths with them is slim to none."

"I would feel a lot better if you'd let us at least chip in to get you an apartment in a gated complex."

closed her eyes, rubbing her forehead. "Mom, I'm not moving. I like where I am. I'm close to school and to work. My neighbors are quiet. It's small, so I don't have a lot of chores, meaning I can focus on my studies. The A/C system is new, meaning I'm not sweating my boobs off right now. When the weather's crappy in winter, I can walk to work and school without worrying about getting in a wreck."

"The weather rarely gets like that over here in winter, you know. I saw the weather for Spokane today, and—"

"Mother!" took another deep breath. "Why do you insist on dragging me into this conversation when it's going to end the same every damned time?"

"Because I love you." She sniffled again. "Excuse me if I worry about you."

"Oh, frak, please don't pull out the guilt. I already told you when I go to work for the pack I will live in the pack compound."

Although that wasn't any guarantee of safety since Charles and Chelsea were murdered in their own home. Peyton and Trent Bleacke had beefed up security since then and the pack compound was now likely safer than Ft. Knox.

Still, the shadow remained, and likely would until the killer was apprehended and faced pack justice.

"That doesn't help me if you get murdered before then."

"I love you, Mom. I'm ending this call so I can study. Love to Dad and everyone. Hanging up now."

"Love you, t—"

thumbed end and finally let loose with a frustrated groan.

She got it. Part of it was parental worry, but a goodly chunk of it was that her mom was an omega and while it wasn't a natural default for all omegas…

Yeah. Her mom was a stereotypical omega who would worry about any- and everything.

Thank the Goddess I'm a beta.

Monday night, showed up for work in a damned good mood.

Phil noticed. "Well?"

She grinned. "I'm certain I aced it. We get our grades later this week."

He held his hand up for a high-five. "Atta girl."

The evening was a little slow so she pitched in with back-of-house chores when Phil sought her out. "Table eight requested you."

She washed her hands. "I hope it's not the parents from the other night with the sundae-slinging brat." The weather was still hot and sticky, but at least had dropped to highs in the mid-90s.

"No. Older guy. Here by himself." He leaned in. "Kind of haggard looking. If he gives you any trouble, signal me, and I'll step in."

"What?" She walked toward the kitchen doors, passing Phil.

"Yeah. One-eyed guy, sounds like he's from England or something."

nearly fell over she stopped so fast and backed up a step. "Scottish? Red hair? Scar down his face? Looks like a fireplug and a bulldog had babies?"

He cocked his head. "Yeah! You know him?"

It wasn't like any other shifter fit Badger's description. She took a deep breath. "I do. He's an old family friend. Don't worry—he's harmless."

But I'm going to KILL Mom.

Technically it was the truth, although she might have intimated a closer personal relationship than she really had with the guy.

She stalked out to the table, which of course was a booth in the back, giving him a little privacy. She forced a smile as she pulled out her notepad to look like she was doing her job.

"Hi, Mr. Williams," she whispered, barely making any noise. A human wouldn't have heard her but she knew the grizzled old Prime Alpha wolf shifter did.

"Now, what's that nonsense?" he whispered back. "Ye can call me Badger. Most do."

"Let me guess, you got a call from my mom?"

He smiled and softly chuckled. "Aye, lass. She seems to think Jack the Ripper camps outside yer apartment door an' Ted Bundy is yer neighbor. Oh, an' ye might be workin' for the Zodiac Killer." He held out a hand, indicating she take a seat in the other side of the booth.

With Badger, saying "no" to him was not an option.

Returning her notepad to her apron, she slid into the other seat and leaned in. "I'm really sorry," she whispered. "I talked to Mom Friday night and she was on my ass again about living out here."

"Ye can tell me to mind my business, if ye like, but is there a reason yer workin'…" He looked around before returning his single blue-eyed gaze to hers. "Here?"

She didn't know how to talk about this, especially with him of all people.

HIM!

Charles Bleacke's best friend and his second in command of the pack. Formerly the best friend and second to their previous Pack Alpha, Duncan Lister, who'd been Chelsea Bleacke's father. didn't know for sure how old Badger was but she suspected he neared 300, if not older.

Now Badger's primary job was raising little Dewi Bleacke, Peyton and Trent's sister. had met Badger Williams plenty of times at Musters and other pack events, but never interacted with him in a personal way like this.

Sensing her discomfort, he held out a hand.

Steeling herself—because she knew he was a Prime Alpha—she laid her hand in his.

Then she could have the conversation with him mentally, explaining everything rapidly with no worries of clueless humans overhearing.

And at the end of it she unexpectedly burst into tears.

He released her hand after giving it a tender squeeze. "Aye, it's all right, lass," he said aloud. He pulled a couple of napkins from the holder on the table and passed them to her. "I ken what's goin' on. Not sure if yer aware, but Charlie an' Chelsea were quite fond of ye."

She blew her nose. "They were?"

He nodded. "I get it. An' I respect ye for it." He clasped his hands together, rested them in front of him on the table, and leaned in. His next words he whispered in that low tone no human could overhear.

"Yer parents love ye an' yer siblings fierce. They're good people. But they're young, relatively speakin'. They're both less than a hunnert, an' they grew up here, in America. Their parents, too. Me an' Duncan an' Charlie an' some others, we all came over from Scotland an' elsewhere. I'm more than old enough to remember fightin' fer food an' survival.

"But to yer mum?" He sighed. "It's horrible, aye, what happened. It's infuriatin' to me even if I wasn't Charlie's best friend, an' Chelsea was like a daughter to me." His one blue eye grew a little bright, limned with unshed tears. "On top of losin' first Louisa, an' then Duncan the way we did all them years ago…" He sadly sighed. "But life goes on an' we have to live it. Because as we all were reminded, it can be short, even fer our kind."

She nodded, dabbing at her eyes. "I want them to be proud of me."

He kindly smiled, knowing exactly who she meant. "Charlie an' Chelsea were proud of ye. Ye might not think they'd know ye out of the lot of all of us, bein' how many we are now an' scattered all across the country, but they did. They appreciated yer work ethic. That stood out wi' 'em both. That ye wanted to make a name fer yerself on yer own. But we take care of ours, of course. An' not everyone's like ye, wanting to help take care of the pack the way ye do. That never goes unnoticed, lass. I promise. An' when yer finished wi' school an' all, an' ye take the bar, go see Trent first thing about a job. I can promise ye there's one waitin' fer ye. He handles the hirin'."

She nodded again, reaching for another napkin. "My mom would be happy if I mated and got pregnant and dropped out of school."

He softly laughed. "Well, she's an omega, so that's understandable. She'll never feel your…drive. An' that's okay, too. Takes all kinds to make up a pack."

"Thanks. I'm sorry she made you drive all the way over here for this."

"Nah. Dinnae fash yerself o'er it. I needed an evenin' off. Peyton an' Beck are watchin' the wee one. An' I had a feelin' that…" He circled his fingers in the air between them. "This was the truth," he finished. "She's a good mum, bless her. I'll call her tomorrow an' put her mind at ease. An' I'll give ye my personal cell number. Call or text me if she gets too overbearin' again. I'll have a Prime take a swing by their place to have a comfortin' chat wi' her to calm her tits."

He smiled as burst out laughing. "Oh, my god. Thank you so much." She pulled out her cell and exchanged numbers with him.

"An' I mean it," he added. "Text me anytime. I'll respond when I can. If ye call an' get my voicemail, leave a message an' I'll return it when I'm able. But I want ye to contact me if ye need me. Or even if ye just wanna talk. That's what I'm here fer. Promise?"

"Thank you, Badger."

"Yer verra welcome. When we seein' ye again over there?"

She knew he meant at the pack compound. "I'm off this weekend. I planned to drive over on Saturday and take a run."

"Well, let me know when yer there and I'll grill ye a steak or somethin'. Now then." He patted the menu. "What do ye think I'd enjoy?"

"The double burgers are great."

"Then that's what I'll take—loaded an' rare, if ye please. Fries, too. An' whatever soda's on tap."

She stood and grabbed her notepad. "Absolutely."

"Ye mind a hug?"

"I'd love a hug."

He slid his bulk out of the booth. Badger was only 5'8", but despite being only four inches shorter than him his Prime Alpha presence made feel like he…loomed, giant, over and around her. In a comforting way, though.

It'd be easier to picture him as a bear shifter instead of a wolf shifter, and one of the drawbacks to living in Spokane was she did miss family hugs.

She heard Badger received his scar and lost his eye long before coming to America, and his mate died in the attack. He'd never remarried and didn't have any pups. But he was the exact opposite of creepy—he was the friendly uncle or grandpa everyone loved.

Unless you got on the bad side of one of his loved ones.

Then he was your worst enemy. Everyone in the pack knew if Badger was on your side it was like having an entire army on your side.

After she brought him his food an unexpected rush of patrons flooded them, and she didn't have a chance to properly say goodbye to him. But he left her five $20s under his plate and texted her.

Keep the change. ;)

She texted him back.

Thank you!

While it was mortifying her mother had called him, at least knew it wouldn't be held against her. And now she had backup to help keep her mother off her ass.

Not to mention another generous tip that padded her weekly budget and would more than pay for her gas for the drive to the compound and back that weekend.

Two more semesters. I can do this.

She hoped.