6.Seeing is Believing
Josh
Bane is still worked up over our confrontation with Dante.
“Puppy?Puppy?I’m not a damn puppy,” he mutters, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he drives. “Asshole. Should have shown him.”
I file away the insult for future reference. It certainly seems to get under his skin.
“Puppy,” he scoffs. “You’re more of a puppy, not me.”
“Hey,Ihelped.”
“You shined a flashlight. I grabbed him and kept him from going anywhere. You tell me who the MVP is.”
“Me,” I insist. “You’d still be growling and running after him like a dog chasing a tennis ball if I hadn’t stunned him for you.”
“Oh, you’re so—” he keeps arguing automatically, then stops himself. “Dammit, you’re right… the idea that worked was yours. You created the opening for me. You... weren’t totally useless.”
Whoa. Wasn’t expecting him to actually admit I was right. I cover my shock with a laugh. “Youarea puppy.”
“You’re the puppy!” he hollers.
Our debate is cut short as we reach our destination. We didn’t travel as far as I expected. He stopped in one of the few suburban areas on the edge of the city where people have actual homes instead of apartments.
“Wynn doesn’t live with the rest of the pack?”
“No.” Bane twists his key and turns off the engine, making no move to get out of the vehicle. He stares at the bungalow-stylehome ahead of us. “Our pack is pretty… strict. That’s never really been Wynn’s style, so he rents a room from a witch.”
He drums his fingers on the steering wheel as he talks, almost like he’s searching for an excuse to stall a little longer. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s hesitating to break the news.
“Our mission was to get answers for Elias. We did that. Maybe he should be the one to tell Wynn.”
“No chance,” he snorts. “My father will never admit it, but he’s probably grateful this happened. We get to be the bearers of bad news instead.”
From where I’d been sitting, Elias had no trouble whatsoever saying difficult things. However, he didn’t strike me as particularly touchy feely. What is it like having him as a father?
Why do I care? Before I can answer this question, Bane clears his throat.
“Let’s go.” He hasn’t even taken off his seatbelt yet.
“Are you and Wynn close?”
“Maybe we are, maybe we aren’t.” Jeez, he’s almost as bad as Dante at giving a straight answer.
“Are you worried about Wynn’s judgment like your father was?”
“What? Fuck no. A mistake or two isn’t the worst thing in the world, not if you learn from them.”
Clearly a story there. That wisdom isn’t something I expect from him. I find myself wanting to know more.
He sighs. “Wynn’s trusting. I’d hate for him to change, but it sucks when his optimism ends up hurting him. He’s the last guy who deserves this.”
Before I can respond, Bane shakes his head and hurries out of the car, leaving me behind.
I hurry up the flagstone path to catch up, noticing that a proud witch lives here. A wreath of dried herbs hangs on thedoor, and a carved wooden cat statue watches over the entrance. Crystals line the porch ledge.
The door swings open, and there’s Wynn. About as tall as Bane, he’s leaner with an open face, curly brown hair, and bright blue eyes.
