“Why not?” Jeff leaned on the counter and spun a display stand, creating a blur of wolf heads and Polar Bear keychains. “There’s no reason to stay.” His gaze sharpened. “Is there?”
The keychains crashed into each other and a few clattered onto the floor. Polar Bears smiled up at them while a lone wolf scowled.
“None I can think of.” Malachi’s limbs were heavy, like they belonged to someone else.
Lack of sleep weighed on him. The last nightmare had been so vivid he’d almost woken Ina, but she stopped sitting with him while he slept years ago. It was easier to ignore the nightmares than ask for help. Instead, he’d lain awake and stared at the ceiling, refusing to shut his eyes. Every time he closed them, the creature resurfaced—the strange fishman with piercing blue eyes, holding Rhys’ lifeless body.
The guilt dragged at him, threatening to pull him under. It was his job to protect Rhys, and he’d failed.
Any time they fought when they were little, Dad always told them that Wolfendens stick together. Every summer, Dad’s temper simmered. It was only a matter of time before it boiled over, and he rightly blamed Malachi for not saving Rhys. It was probably why they avoided each other over theanniversary—so neither of them would have to acknowledge the truth about how they really felt.
“You’re going to tell your dad then?” Jeff jumped back onto the counter. “Tonight?”
Malachi jumped. “I’ll try.” He’d almost forgotten Jeff was there.
“Never mind trying, mate, just get on with it.” Jeff was relentless and wouldn’t stop until he got his own way.
He didn’t have the energy for another round of Jeff’s demands—not today. All he wanted was a quiet corner to breathe in without someone shoving him towards decisions he wasn’t ready to make.
“Jeff, this time of year is difficult. Dad spends most nights out walking, and I barely see him. He doesn’t like being at home because of?—”
The entire bucket tower collapsed, burying him in a cascade of plastic. He puffed out his cheeks, letting out a long sigh and pushed the buckets off himself. It would have been funny, definitely worth a look on the CCTV, if he wasn’t so exhausted.
“Sorry, mate.” Jeff snorted, jumping off the counter to lift a bucket that had rolled to his feet. “I forgot what time of year it was.” He shrugged. “At least next year, you’ll not have to deal with all this over his anniversary.”
Malachi looked away and gathered up the fallen buckets. Jeff had barely acknowledged Rhys’ existence when he was alive—he never once asked about him after he died. If Jeff didn’t have anything to gain, it wasn’t on his radar. If Malachi confided in Jeff about the blue-eyed fishman, Jeff would laugh in his face and post about it all over social media for kudos and attention.
They rebuilt the display tower in an uneasy silence. The hum of the air-conditioning filled the shop.
“You need to tell him sooner rather than later.” Jeff’s eyes lowered. “Or else he’ll hear it from my mum.”
Malachi’s jaw tightened. Even Jeff’s kindness had barbs.
Libby Kilbane was obsessed with Jeff leaving Latharna and meeting his extended family. If she’d heard Malachi was thinking about going too, there was a good chance she’d already mentioned it to either Dad or Ina, who were as obsessed with Latharna as Jeff was about leaving it.
Malachi was stuck in no man’s land. He just needed to get through the next couple of weeks without drowning in his nightmares and waking up in a pool of sweat and tears.
“I’ll speak to him.” Malachi’s stomach fluttered. He’d had enough of Jeff pressurising him. “Just give me time.”
“You’re running out of time though.”
“Jesus, Jeff, what’s your rush?” Malachi slammed the final bucket onto the tower. It wobbled dangerously. They’d finished school almost six weeks ago; it was the summer holidays now. They had nothing but time. “It’s just difficult, okay.”
“I knew you’d do this.” Jeff stood over Malachi, fist clenched as though ready for a fight. “I knew you’d chicken out at the last minute. You always do.”
Heat rushed to Malachi’s face. He jumped to his feet, rising a few inches above Jeff, for once ready to stand up for himself after years of tiptoeing around Jeff’s passive aggressive dominance. “Screw?—”
The shop bell jingled.
Jeff glared at the tourists coming into the shop. “Just get on with it.” He jabbed a finger to Malachi, eyes narrowing. The light from the door turned Jeff’s pale brown eyes a sickly shade of yellow.
The door closed—and Jeff’s distorted features slipped back to normal. He slunk passed the tourists, throwing awink at an elderly woman before swaggering out. His shoulders were stiff, clearly unhappy he was losing control of their plans.
But Malachi was numb. He didn’t care about leaving Latharna anymore than he cared about staying. He just had to get through the next couple of weeks without any drama.
He turned to greet the customers—and walked directly into the newly rebuilt tower. The crash echoed around the shop.
It was just after 2 pm when Nomi returned toThe Wolf’s Den. Her eyes narrowed as she inspected the shop floor, but her scathing commentary was softened into an anaesthetic slur thanks to the dentist. Malachi was released from his shift with very little critique—a minor miracle.
