There was silence as Josh processed that. And while Josh’s jaw hardened to granite, Nero pushed it a little further. “You said you refused to give up your family, remember?”
“You said it was a bad idea, remember?”
Nero sighed. “I might have been wrong.”
Josh glared at him. “Might?” Nero shrugged, and Josh eventually turned away. “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”
Nero couldn’t argue. And as they did the loop around the city and headed toward the suburbs, Josh repeated his intention in a muttered growl.
“We get in, then get out. That’s it.”
That wasn’t going to work and they both knew it. In the history of mankind, no visit home ever went “get in, get out.” There were always emotional notes, but there was nothing to be gained by pointing out the obvious, so Nero said nothing.
He took the turnoff, following the GPS directions to a middle-class neighborhood that was showing its age. The houses here were generally built in the seventies. Some looked spruced up with new paint jobs or nice landscaping, and others were less well-maintained. Many had melting snowmen in the front yard and a few still had their Christmas decorations up. The Colliers’ family home was clearly the best one, with neat flower beds under the patchy snow and a US flag out front proudly waving over St. Patrick’s Day decorations. He’d bet his next paycheck that Josh’s mother had homemade treats for Halloween, Christmas gifts for the delivery people, and probably dyed eggs for the neighborhood Easter egg hunt.
They pulled into the driveway behind a big truck, and Josh groaned. “Goody. Bruce is here.” The sarcasm was heavy, and Nero wondered just what Josh’s older brother had done to earn such animosity. According to the file, Bruce was a stand-up guy: a firefighter with a commendation for bravery.
Nero pulled in beside the truck, and as he shifted the car into Park, he confessed one of his lesser sins. “You should know they’ve been told the usual thing about your disappearance.”
Josh pinned him with a heavy stare. “And that is?”
“Vague. You’ve been at a retreat center.” The exact words werespecialized treatment facility, but he didn’t want to say that. Depending on the family, the words could be interpreted as a hospital stay or yoga retreat.
“Awesome,” Josh said, his tone heavy with sarcasm. Then he got out of the car and walked up to the front door as if he was facing a firing squad. Jeez, what had gone on behind the Collier family closed doors that had turned his exuberant, exasperating,animatedlover into this sullen pile of anger? Once they made it to the front door, Josh couldn’t seem to ring the doorbell. So Nero pushed the button, then stepped aside so that Josh would be the one slouching front and center when the door was finally pulled open.
First thing Nero noticed was the scent of pot roast and fresh bread wafting out of the house. The second was a fit twentysomething woman with stylish short hair and large brown eyes. According to the file, Josh’s sister, Ivy, was an Army nurse on deployment, but she was obviously home now. More important, she was staring at Josh as if she was looking at a ghost.
“Josh,” she mouthed without any sound. Then she abruptly launched herself into his arms with a delighted cry. He caught her, his expression dumbfounded. And when she pulled back, she spun around and said, “Everybody! It’s Josh!”
“Ivy,” Josh breathed. “What are you doing home? You’re not due until….”
She turned back to him with a laugh and playfully punched him in the arm. “Until two weeks ago, meathead. You missed my party!”
“No, you’re back early,” Josh argued.
She snorted, but there was worry in her eyes. “Just what kind of drugs did they give you in that hospital? My party was Friday. You missed it.”
Josh frowned, clearly confused, but he didn’t have time to say more as his mother came bustling forward. Her hair was dark, but the gray roots were showing. She wore an apron over a dress, and her face was all smiles.
“Josh, you should have called! I would have made up your bed. How are you feeling, honey?” She wrapped him up in a hug that carried a cloud of White Shoulders perfume and pot roast that Nero could smell from three feet away. And when she pulled back from Josh, her light brown eyes scanned him from head to toe.
Meanwhile, the men had shown up. Bruce came first, his square frame and green eyes sharp as he lounged against the doorframe. “The prodigal son returns,” he drawled. “Guess the funny farm did you some good. You’re looking strong.”
Nero winced. Obviously Josh’s family thoughtretreatmeant mental hospital.
Josh’s mother whipped around, casually thudding Bruce in the chest. “Stop it. We’re not teasing about his medical problem—no matter what it is. Do you understand me?”
Bruce dipped his head. “Yes, ma’am.”
Then came the patriarch. Josh’s father ambled forward, and the sunlight made his hazel eyes seem bright blue above his square jaw and thick neck. The werewolf genes were obvious to someone in the know: in his spiky hair, all a dark brown, and the toothy way he smiled.
“Don’t stand there letting all the heat out,” the man groused. “I pay good money for that. Josh, if you’re coming in, then come in. Tell us where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing.” He chuckled as he spoke the seemingly innocent words, but Nero heard an edge of meanness there. After all, the family thought Josh had been in a mental institution, so his words couldn’t be anything but a jab.
They all hurried into the house, Nero included. There was lots of hustle as Josh and Nero shed their coats and hung them up in a tidy closet in a neat entryway of a very clean two-story house. And that was all the time it took for Josh to finally process everyone’s words. He drew in a sharp breath, then turned to Nero with an accusing glare.
“You told them I was in a hospital?”
“Nope. We told them that you were in a specialized retreat center, that you were undergoing a very specific treatment regimen and could not have visitors or outside contact of any kind.” It was the family who had gone straight tomental hospital.
