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I nod, curious, as he darts into the crowd after Taylor. I’m only standing there for a couple of minutes when I feel eyes on me. I turn in a circle and spot Phil.
Nope.
I walk sharply away from the pancake booth and stand near a wall, out of sight. But Phil must be here for me. Of course, he is. I can feel my day deteriorating quickly. He approaches slowly like he thinks I’m going to attack him, keeping his eyes lowered and warily walking on stiff legs towards me. The stench of his fear, sour apples, permeates the air. It gives me all I need to know about how this meeting is going to go.
Annie spots me and waves. I grin back and wave at her. Phil watches our interaction with a dark, uneasy glare.
“Can we talk?” His words are stilted, the sharp syllables cutting the air.
I glance over my shoulder in the direction the pack went.
“Nope.”
“Scarlet, for fuck’s sake, please, I’m trying here!”
“See, I don’t want to talk to you, Phil. I’ve made it clear, I’m unsure why you keep pressing me about this.” I nod to Freddy Malt, an old timer here who remembers chasing me and Gold around his farm one day long ago. He’s got his staffy with him and a cat laying across his shoulders. The sight makes me smile.
“Need a hand, Scarletta?”
I chuckle. “I got him in hand, Freddy.”
“I will make a scene.” Phil spits out. “I just need you to hear us out. Just once. If you still feel that way, we’ll leave.”
Deciding, reluctantly, to hear him out, he leads me to an almost empty diner, except the people in it are the pack, I realise too late. My old pack. I wrestle to hide a groan and walk towards them confidently, pulling out a seat and sitting down.
Phil sits opposite me.
“We made a mistake. A huge mistake.” He says with an exhale that carries the weight of the world.
I narrow my eyes. For the first time in weeks, I feel back on solid ground and not in the eye of a storm. I lean back, the fake leather creaking under me. I'm relaxed, cool, calm, confident. Not even the cold smell of old grease will damage my calm. I know exactly how this is going to go. I wonder if they know it.
“I don’t think it was a mistake.” I say back conversationally.
I look around the other side of the table. They look like strangers. Frank tucks his shoulders and lets his long hair hide his face. Ben somehow manages to fold his lanky frame into the chair. Lionel rests his hands on his bald head and stares at the table. All three look embarrassed to be here. Tony, who looks so much younger than thirty, just leans on the table and shreds a napkin, he doesn’t even look at me.
“It was a mistake. It was huge. Look, everything’s been wrong since you left. The housekeeper quit, the chef left. We sold the business, but we’re running out of money fast. I’m not blaming you. I’m saying we acted like children and jumped before we could walk.”
I cock my head to the side. “So you want a life raft?”
Phil blushes.
“That’s not what he means,” Lionel snaps. I glare at him. We never got along. Not really. It was only ever tolerance.
“You guys don’t like me.” I say in confusion.
“We don’t have to like each other to be pack.” Tabby says with a tight smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
But loving each other, that’s what makes a pack, I think.
“All right, let’s cut the crap. What’s your offer?” I don’t hide the smile I’ve got playing on my lips.
“You come back, help us get back to where we were, and we register you as pack.”
“So, you’ll give me a pack bond?” I ask in shock. I don’t want it. My stomach churns at the mere suggestion, but I’m so shocked the question comes out.
“Fuck no!” Rick barks before he can help himself. Half climbing over the table in his instant rage.
“Ah, I see.” I lean back and raise an eyebrow.
