Aidan’s brow furrowed. “Who?”
“That would be me,” said Bracken, standing directly behind him. Aidan whirled with a sound of alarm, and Bracken gave him a shark’s grin. “Jumpy little thing, aren’t you? I’ve been here for a while. You didn’t know I was there? Hmm. Well, lead the way to your car.” Before Aidan could object, Bracken shepherded him to the Audi by the scruff of his neck. “Here, let me get your door for you.” He sharply yanked it open, making it smack Aidan right in the face. “Shit, sorry about that. Sometimes, I forget my own strength.”
Hand covering his face, Aidan slid into his car. “I’m fine.”
“You have a good day now.” Bracken slammed the door shut, waving with a smile as the therapist drove off.
“Huh,” said Marlon, eyeing the wolves. “Looks like you two might be useful to have around, after all. I have to admit, I wasn’t so sure. I want to be as convinced as Yvonne that you’ll see this through to the end.”
“We’ll be here until the entire issue has been fully resolved,” Zander firmly stated. “Our Alphas won’t call us home, if for no other reason than that a fellow shifter was assaulted and deserves justice.” Nick might wish he could summon them back to pack territory, but Shaya would fight him on it. Her soft heart wouldn’t allow her to ignore Gwen or Andie’s plight.
After a long moment, Marlon nodded. “Fair enough.”
Releasing a heavy sigh, Gwen turned to the wolves. “Let’s take the groceries inside. Then I think it’s time for you both to meet Andie.”
Zander stayed beside Gwen as she expertly navigated the boat along the murky river, avoiding shrubs, logs, tall stalks, and old beaver dams. It was obvious that she’d done it dozens of times.
Despite the sun beating at his skin, Zander found himself lulled by the sounds of the boat motor, the flapping of wings as birds dove at the water, and the various wildlife scurrying through the high grass.
The marsh might not be what anyone would term colorful, but it was still scenic and peaceful. It was also thriving with wildlife. When he’d explored the marsh, his wolf had picked up the scents of many animals—foxes, otters, beavers, raccoons, mink, and deer, to name a few. His wolf had enjoyed playfully chasing some of them.
As a bird swooped down and caught a fish, a light spray of water hit Zander. “I’ve never seen so many types of birds in one place.” Ducks, geese, herons, kingfishers, hawks—the list went on.
“Well, there’s a whole lot of insects and fish for them to feed on,” she said. “You don’t like birds?”
“I like them just fine.” It was the insects that he didn’t like, especially the dragonflies flitting through the reeds. They looked like they’d been taking steroids or something.
Hearing Bracken chuckle from the other end of the boat, Zander looked to see that his attention was on his cell phone. He guessed that Bracken was texting Shiloh again only to receive yet more insults. Zander wondered if the female knew she wasn’t discouraging the male whatsoever.
Taking advantage of the alone time that gave him with Gwen, Zander quietly asked, “What did that fucker Aidan mean when he said this must be like reliving your childhood?”
“How did I know you’d bring that up?” she muttered drily. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Baby, I just heard you had one shitty childhood. Going by the things that asshole said, I’m guessing that one or both of your parents were violent and that you were forced to keep your mouth shut about it. I’m fucking pissed that that happened to you.” It would surely leave any child feeling helpless, terrified, and unsafe. “And I can’t help but wonder just how bad it was—my imagination is coming up with all kinds of shit. Give me something.”
Startled that he’d actually care one way or the other, Gwen threw him a sideways glance. “I had a shitty start to life, yes, but so did lots of people—it doesn’t make me anything special. It’s over now; it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“It matters to me.”
Gwen doubted that. Shifters liked casual sex; they liked to keep it simple. It was more likely that his natural curiosity was bugging him, she decided. In any case . . . “Zander, as someone with extensive boundaries, you should be able to accept when another person doesn’t want to share their personal business.”
Zander couldn’t deny that she was right. He should back off, give her the emotional space she was asking for, but instead, he found himself saying, “My mother abused my father. Not physically, but emotionally. She was much more dominant than he was, and she used that strength to subdue and control him. She did it right up until the day she died—or so I heard, anyway. I hadn’t spoken to them in years.” He raised an expectant brow. “Now it’s your turn.”
The determined look on his face told her he wasn’t going to drop this. Gwen inwardly cursed. If she told him about her biological father, she was pretty sure he’d look at her differently. No, she’d keep that part to herself, but she could at least tell him a little something. “My stepfather liked to drink, but that wasn’t why he hit my mother. Drunk, sober—it didn’t matter. Hanna didn’t cower when he yelled. She stood up to him, argued with him. But the moment he hit her, she just crumbled. I often wondered if she wanted him to hit her.” Why else would she have provoked him? “Over time, the beatings got worse. A lot worse. But even then, she forced me not to tell. She told me she’d lie to protect him if I did.”
And then Zander got it. He understood exactly why she was so set on speaking up for Andie. As a child, she’d been unable to stand up for her mother—most likely also forced to lie and make excuses to anyone who asked about it. Now, as an adult, she wasn’t backing down while someone needed help she could provide. “How did you end up in foster care?”
“That’s as much as you’re getting out of me today.” She jerked her head back a little as a mosquito came too close. “Why don’t you tell me why you and Bracken came all the way to Oregon? I doubt it was to test if the house is haunted. But if it’s personal, just say so.”
“I told you, my uncle died recently.” A slight breeze brushed over Zander, giving him a reprieve from the harsh glare of the sun. “He wanted the beneficiaries to meet at his attorney’s office for the reading of the will. That’s where Bracken and I went yesterday.”