In truth, the kid deserved a better guardian than Ryan—he wasn’t good at giving emotional feedback, wasn’t good at bonding, and wasn’t good at expressing affection or receiving it. But he could give Zac a home, a sense of belonging, and ensure he was safe. Those were all good things, right?
Spending time with Zac to earn his trust would also mean spending time with Makenna. Ryan waited for discomfort to settle in at the idea of being around a loner . . . but none came. In fact, he realized with a start, he wanted to see her again. Probably because she was a mystery. Ryan liked having all the facts of a situation. He wanted to know who she really was and what happened to her. Moreover, he wanted to know what fucking pack would cast out a pup and just how they could possibly justify it to themselves.
“Where did you hear the rumor about Remy?” Trey asked, interrupting Ryan’s thoughts.
“I was at a shifter bar,” said Ryan. “The waitress was flirting with him at the other side of the room. One of the barmen—Myles—didn’t look happy about it. Then he snickered when Remy dismissed her. He said he wasn’t surprised she’d been sent on her way because he’d heard Remy’s interests leaned toward young boys.”
Dante folded his arms across his chest. “Then I think we need to go and speak with this barman, find out where he got that information.”
Later that night, Ryan strode through the crowded bar with Trey, Dante, and Trick. They found Myles at the far end of the bar, flirting with the female he was serving.
He went rigid at the sight of their grim expressions. “What’s this about?”
A straight shooter. Ryan liked that.
“We have a few questions,” said Trey. “It won’t take long.”
Myles barked a nervous laugh. “I’d be a fool to walk off alone with four pissed-off Phoenix wolves.”
“It’s not you we’re pissed at,” said Trey. “But I have a feeling you can tell us a little about the wolf who did piss us off.”
Myles pressed his lips together, clearly reluctant. Finally, with a heavy exhale, he rounded the bar and gestured for them to follow him. He led them through a door marked “Staff Only” and into an empty break room. “What do you want to know?”
Trey spoke. “Remy Deacon.”
Myles’s face scrunched up in distaste. “What about him?”
“Last time I was here,” said Ryan, “you told me Remy likes little boys.”
Myles shifted uncomfortably. “That’s what I heard.”
“From who?”
“Some of my pack mates. They were originally members of one of the packs he took over. They switched to ours a few months ago.”
“They know this for certain?” asked Dante. “They’ve witnessed it?”
“No. They said he likes to be around the kids, that he takes them on nature walks and he’s adopted all the orphans.”
“There’s nothing wrong with spending time with pups,” said Trey.
“No, but some of the boys have gone missing. And one of the fathers outright accused Remy of abusing his son and then attacked him. Remy killed the father. Since then, some of the families have left—maybe because they believe the rumors or maybe because they’re being cautious.” He cringed as he added, “I also heard that his extremely possessive mother loves him . . . a little too much.”
A bitter taste settled on Ryan’s tongue. His wolf curled his lip in total disgust. If the latter rumor were true, a person might be tempted to feel sympathy for Remy. Ryan wasn’t tempted. Sad and sick as it was, lots of people were abused. They didn’t all become abusers.
“We need to speak with your pack mates,” Dante told Myles. “We need to know more about Remy.”
“I don’t think they know anything more.”
“Maybe not, but we have to be sure.”
Myles scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “They’re visiting relatives in Canada. They’ll be back Friday.”
“We’ll come to your territory Saturday morning to talk with them,” said Trey, his tone nonnegotiable.
Myles tucked his hands in his pockets and shuffled from foot to foot. “What if they don’t want to talk to you?”
Trey cocked a brow. “If they believe the rumors are true, I would think they’d want to tell us what they know.”
“You’ll kill him, won’t you?”
“If he’s guilty, he doesn’t deserve to live.”
“No, he damn well doesn’t,” agreed Myles with a sneer.
By the time Makenna arrived at the shelter the next morning, the residents were just finishing breakfast. They then headed to either work, job interviews, school, or the common room. And that was when Makenna did what she’d been doing each day since Dawn had agreed for her to remain in the shelter many years ago: she began her designated chores.
Aided by some of the staff, she cleaned the kitchen, wiped down the cafeteria tables, and mopped the floor. Following that, she checked on each of the new residents, making sure they were settling in and asking for names of any family they would trust to take them in.