Chapter 37

Declan was right, but I’d be damned if I fucking told him that.

Getting my bike up to the pack house was a fucking feat—harder than I remembered. Maybe the recent rain was to blame or maybe it really was that my bike couldn’t handle it, but whatever it was, Declan laughed at me the whole fucking way.

“Fuck me,” I grumbled as I walked my way into a spot at the far end of the lot.

“I thought your girl could handle anything,” Declan taunted, parking next to me.

“Fuck you,” was the best comeback I fucking had. It only made him laugh harder. Jackass.

As I got off my bike, I took a moment to survey her. Overall, she looked good—dirty but good nonetheless. Even still, I looked her over once. Twice. Three times. Anything to stall as I anxiously stuck a cigarette between my lips and lit it. I inhaled deeply and let the smoke fill my lungs, needing the relief. Fuck, I was so goddamn nervous.

“Can I leave my jacket in your truck?” I asked, doing whatever I could to draw it out. The shit was going to hit the fan, and I suddenly didn’t want to be there when it did. All my face-the-fucking-pack mindset flew out the window.

Yeah, I was a goddamn coward.

Or maybe I didn’t want to repeat all the shit that had happened before I left, which was exactly what I anticipated happening. I couldn’t fight everyone at once. I wasn’t strong enough for that shit.

Declan popped open the door to his truck and said nothing as I wasted more time. Leaning into my wolf’s hearing, I tuned into the chatter on the lawn. Fuck, nearly the whole pack was around. There was no easing into this.

“The fuck you do to your bike?” Sam demanded. I glanced over my shoulder to see him, Finn, and Lucas heading toward us. “Did you tell him the path would be shit?”

“Do you think he listens to me?” Declan shot back.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get stuck,” Lucas said. He made a face. “Shit, I’m unlucky you didn’t get stuck. That would’ve been funny as fuck.”

“I told him I wasn’t towing him out.” He shrugged.

“The lot of you are real fucking funny,” I grumbled. Admittedly, the razzing was a nice distraction from the waves of anxiety inside me.

“Nice flannel,” Finn commented. Yeah, I’d worn the flannel Raven gave me. I wasn’t about to wear the t-shirt, but the flannel wasn’t bad. And at least it wasn’t red.

“Just proves I can wear this shit better than you fuckers,” I said around my cigarette. Granted, Declan and I were sorely overdressed compared to the three of them in their fucking sweatpants and no shirts. “Where’s Nolan?”

“Wrapping up story time with the kids,” Sam replied. “We figured we’d see how you idiots were.”

“You mean, you’d walk me up to the house in case shit hits the fucking fan,” I corrected. The silence that followed was palpable as my brothers looked to Declan for an answer. “I’m not a fucking idiot.”

“We don’t think shit will hit the fan,” Declan said quickly. “But, we all agreed that it’s probably best if we stick with you for a while until the shock blows over.”

“You didn’t tell them I’m coming back, did you?”

“That,” he began, nodding slowly, “and we didn’t tell them that you’re announcing your position in the pack.”

Oh, fuck me.I’d assumed everyone would’ve been on the same page when I showed up. Apparently, the same page was that no one had a clue about the shit that was going to go down.

“Also, Ginny’s dad is here,” Lucas said. I fucking froze, my blood running cold. “Ginny’s with him right now. I’m sure he knows. People are talking about the idiot who rode a motorcycle through the fucking woods.”

“Dick,” I muttered. Any desire I had for the back-and-forth banter was gone with the mention of fucking Phillip Goodwin. Facing him was the one thing I didn’t want to do. Why? Because I was guaranteed to not hold my tongue. He was lucky I knew better than to punch him. He’d have me arrested in a fucking heartbeat, and there was no way in hell I’d go to jail for that asshole. I pushed past my brothers. “Let’s just get this shitshow over with.”

“It’ll be fine.” Declan caught up to me while the others trailed behind. “Just hold your tongue, and don’t do something you’ll regret.”

“Punching him in the face is the line I have drawn,” I admitted. “And I wouldn’t fucking regret it. He deserves it. I just refuse to go to jail.”

“What’d he ever do to you?” he asked. “Maybe if we knew that, we could—”

“Do nothing,” I snapped. “You’ll do nothing. Phillip Goodwin is my problem.”

He fell silent—thank fuck. Not that I had anything to tell him anyway. Instead, I focused on the pack as we approached the pack house. A quiet anticipation filled the air—uncomfortable and vibrating against my skin. Three years of nothing was a big fucking gap, especially considering my responsibilities to the pack. The looks combined with that silence did nothing to ease my nerves. A deep growl built involuntarily in my chest as my wolf reflected my stress.

We were nearly to the house when Connor Harvey stepped in front of me.

“Killian,” Connor greeted with a big grin. I took his hand, smiling. Connor was a good kid. And I was fucking grateful for that. A handshake was a start. “Welcome home.”

“Thanks, kid. You look good,” I said. He did. The last I remembered of him, Connor was this scrawny thing with an awkward tan and hair too long to look good. He’d filled out with wide shoulders and muscles I knew came from working hard. Dusty blond hair scattered across his forehead and fell into his denim blue eyes. “How’s the ranch treating you?”

“Busy as always,” he replied as he shoved his hands in his pockets. He rocked on his feet, completely at ease while we talked—a fact I was immensely grateful for. “We’ve almost doubled our cows at this point and added a few rescues in the mix as well—horses and cows alike.”

Fuck, that was a lot of animals.

“And your dad? How’s he holding up?”

“Stubborn as ever.” He laughed. “I keep trying to get him to retire, but he ain’t having it.”

“Sounds about right.” It did. Beck Harvey was probably the most stubborn fucking man alive. How Connor grew up to be so fucking relaxed and go-with-the-flow was beyond me. Clapping a hand to Connor’s shoulder, I said, “We’ll catch up later, okay? I’d love to hear how things are going.”

“Sounds good to me.” His smile grew wider as he backed away.

“See?” Sam said. “Not so bad.”

“Yeah, but Connor’s always liked me,” I retorted. Okay, Connor liked everyone.

“Maybe,” Declan replied. “But it looks good in front of others. Mom’s inside with Uncle Cil. Let’s go say hi before everyone else gets here.”

“Are you fuckers planning to flank me all fucking night?” I demanded, taking the steps two at a time.

“Consider us your very own puppy squad,” Finn told me happily. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Killian Byrne!” My name in that voice fucking froze me on the top step. Phillip Goodwin. My spine went rigid, and my chest constricted with the onslaught of emotions.

“Keep walking,” Declan ordered.

“Killian Byrne, don’t you ignore me, son!” Phillip yelled. He had no fucking right to call me that.

“Don’t,” Declan warned.

“I have to,” I snapped. I was down the short flight of stairs before anyone could stop me. “What do you want, Mr. Goodwin?”

Hold my temper. That was the goal. Hold my fucking temper. I didn’t want to do something stupid—at least, not that stupid.

Phillip looked old, and it wasn’t just the way his hair was grayer. No, he just looked worn the fuck down despite how angry he was—weathered and frail. Genevieve stood behind him, those pretty eyes wide as if she couldn’t believe her father was yelling for the whole pack to hear.

“How dare you show up here,” he began, his voice rising. I knew he was doing it to make sure everyone heard him. “How dare you show up here after what you did—”

“John, chapter eight, verse seven,” I interrupted. I didn’t bother to match his volume. I didn’t give a fuck who heard me or not. It wasn’t about them. It was about me and him. “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone.”

He faltered. Yeah, I knew my fucking Bible.

“I have every right to be here,” I told him.

“After what you did, you don’t belong here! You don’t belong in Cedar Harbor,” he snapped. “We all remember what you did. What you put her through! No one trusts you. No one wants you here.”

“Leviticus, chapter nineteen, verse eighteen: do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against anyone among your people, but love your neighbor as yourself.” I planted myself in front of him, crossing my arms to keep from hitting him. Rage rolled through me in waves, painful and violent. The fucking things I wanted to do to him. I was probably the one that needed reminding about loving my neighbor. I was so fucking livid—hot and vibrating all over. I genuinely hated very few people, but he was at the top of that list.

“So you know how to recite a few verses,” Phillip shot back. “That doesn’t change a damn thing, boy. You don’t know the meaning behind the words you speak.”

“Daddy—”

“Do you read the book you preach, Mr. Goodwin?” I demanded over Genevieve. I should’ve let her speak, but I was too riled up.

“It’s Pastor Goodwin,” he snapped.

“Pastors are men of God,” I reminded him. “When was the last time you ever did anything worthy of God, Mr. Goodwin? And I don’t mean the fucking facade you put on for the church-going sheep willing to follow you blindly without question.”

He stepped up close, getting in my face. His dark eyes flashed with anger, and a deep growl ripped through my chest in response.

“There he is,” Phillip said darkly. “The violent man you pretend you’re not. I see right through you, boy. You may have them fooled, but not me. I see you for what you are.”

“You dont know a damn thing about me,” I snarled.

“I can see you shaking. I know you want to hit me, don’t you? But you won’t, will you?” He was goading me, but fuck if I’d fall for it. “Afraid to hit someone that’ll fight back?”

My jaw ticked, and I clenched my fists. What I wouldn’t fucking do to hit the man. If anyone deserves it, it was him.

“I’m not afraid of a damn thing, so I suggest you stay in your lane as far as we’re concerned because I’m no puppy with my tail between my legs,” I growled, leaning in closer so only he could hear me. “If you want a fight, I’ll give you a goddamn war. I’ll lay out your sins for the whole world to see how far the holy man has fallen. You think you know the kind of man I am, but I know the kind you are. Just remember that. I know what you did to those girls. I know your secrets, you hypocritical bastard. I don’t need to hit you to hurt you.”

“Okay.” Genevieve wedged between me and her father, gently laying her hands on my chest as if to hold me back. She whispered, “Killian, please don’t.”

And there it was.That silent desperation in those gorgeous golden eyes. It wrapped around my heart and held on tight in a fucking vice grip. That look was the only reason I ever backed down. This wasn’t my fight. It was hers—her secret, her pain, her battle.

I was just collateral damage.

And fuck, I didn’t want to be.

I wanted to protect her from him, but she couldn’t handle the idea of the world knowing. The shame would kill her. She couldn’t see it wasn’t her who was the problem. He was. But I couldn’t do that to her. I couldn’t hurt her like that.

So, I did what I’d always done: I backed down.

I wouldn’t keep fighting him. Instead, I focused on her. My gaze swept down her body quickly, taking an assessment of the woman in front of me. Fuck, she hurt to look at. Three fucking years and it was evident he had all his claws right back into her. The goddamn skirts were back along with the high-neck sweaters—every inch of her covered in modesty.

Reaching out, I brushed a single coil of hair away from her temple. Was he on her about her hair? She loved her curls, loved the texture of her hair. So did I. It was wayward and gorgeous. He called it unruly and inappropriate. For years, starting at sixteen, they made her straighten it, so she’d look respectable.

Fuck respectable. She deserved to be happy.

I grabbed a fistful of her sweater at the stomach and dragged her closer. I was definitely making a fucking scene, but I didn’t care. Fueled by that intoxicating scent of hers and the desperate look in her eyes, I wasn’t about to back down until she understood that.

“You deserve better than what they’re putting you through, Genevieve,” I told her softly. “You deserve to be happy.”

“Killian, don’t get involved,” she begged.

“Too late, princess, I’m back, and unless you divorce me, I’m staying involved. You’re mine.” Yeah, I should’ve walked away instead of running at the fucking mouth. I’d regret this shit later.“No one hurts what’s mine.”

Those full lips popped open, and her eyes widened. I let her go and turned away, stalking toward the pack house.