He hesitated, then ploughed on determinedly. He needed to get this out. “I figure there are things he needs to deal with that I don’t know about. Maybe thingshedoesn’t even know yet. And I want to be there for all of it, I do. But if ever he needs something I can’t help with, or someone to talk to who’s not me, I hope he can have you.”
Bryce’s eyes were tired but warm and soft on Tristan’s. “Of course he can. And when it gets complicated—and it will—he’s going to need someone who can help him make sense of it. Someone trained, who can walk him through it and steady him when we can’t. We’ll both still be right beside him.”
Tristan blinked back sudden dampness in his eyes. “One thing I know,” he said. “He won’t stop fighting.”
Bryce gripped Tristan’s shoulder. “I saw that this morning. But even fighters need someone who can help themheal, not justhold it together. What you give him—it matters. It keeps him reaching forward instead of just hanging on. But with what he’s been through, he deserves every kind of help we can get him.”
Tristan didn’t answer right away, but his throat worked like he was trying to swallow something that wouldn’t go down. He nodded, once.
“Thanks, Bryce.” Inadequate words, but he knew Bryce heard all the ones left unspoken.
They sat a moment longer, then Bryce stretched. “If that’s all, there’s a coffee yodeling my name in the kitchen.”
Before Bryce could head off in search of coffee, Tristan pulled him into a hug. Things had changed between them. But not the important ones.
Chapter Thirty-nine
COLBY
The kitchen was its usual chaotic self as the pack gathered for dinner. Everyone was there except Karl and Dave, and Colby wasn’t going to think about the reason Karl was missing.
Eventually, like a strange game of Tetris, they clicked into place—food claimed, chairs dragged, space made, until everyone was settled around the table.
“How’s Mr. Garrity’s book coming along?” Matt asked Riley.
Colby had the feeling that, although Matt wanted to know the answer, he’d asked mainly to set the tone for the meal. What had happened this morning wasn’t food for idle gossip. If Colby and Tristan wanted to tell anyone, they could. Otherwise, the only thing the pack needed to know was that Nico was no longer a threat.
Riley plunged into an account of the book he was ghost-writing for someone in town, old family stories from the silver boom, and that carried the burden of conversation for a while as everyoneate. Colby glanced around the table every now and then, calibrating himself against the members of the pack. The members ofhispack. It still didn’t seem possible.
No one seemed to be taking much notice of him, which was how he liked it. No one except Christian, who caught Colby’s gaze at one point, and raised his lip, half sneer, half snarl.
Colby dropped his gaze back to his plate. Safer that way.
They’d almost finished dinner when Matt drew everyone’s attention. “Just so you know, the suits are coming to visit us soon. I don’t know much more than that at the moment, but don’t let their politician-speak fool you into thinking they’re harmless or unintelligent. It could be that whoever’s responsible for disposing of Cale’s pack will be among them, so stay sharp, and watch what you say when they’re here.”
Christian stabbed at his beef like it had offended his mother. “You okay with this, Jesse?”
It was the first time Colby had heard that tight, protective edge in his voice. He was still learning the shape of this pack. Still figuring out where the joins were, and how he might fit between them.
Jesse shrugged, but there was tension in his shoulders. “Guess I gotta be, don’t I? Seein’ as how I’m the main attraction and all.”
As he looked at Jesse and saw the strain in him, Colby found himself wanting to say something. To help, in some way.
“You were amazing earlier,” he said. “With the henhouse, I mean. Stopping Mayhem from collapsing the entire thing.”
Jesse blinked. Then he grinned, sharp and quick. “Damn right I was.”
Laughter broke the tension, and a smile touched Colby’s lips. He’d said something.Contributed.And no one told him to shut up. That still felt like magic.
* **
As the pack cleared out of the kitchen after dinner, leaving Tristan and Colby to do the dishes, Bryce lingered by the door.
“Colby,” he said.
Colby stiffened, a reflex he didn’t quite manage to hide. “Yeah?”
“You need boots.”
