Wolfsong (Green Creek 1)

Gordo muttered something darkly, still pressed against me, hand gripping mine. I didn’t know that I was ready to let him go just yet.

“We can still be mad at him,” Tanner said. “Even if Ox caved already.”

“Three days, alfa,” Rico said with a glare. “You lasted three days.”

“I’m still going to be mad,” Chris said.

“Twenty-five years we’ve been friends,” Tanner said.

“And you kept this shit from us,” Rico said. “Brujo.”

“You told us things were just weird sometimes,” Chris said.

“That your tattoos didn’t move,” Tanner said. “That we were just crazy.”

“Or that when you broke up with Mark, that’s all it was,” Rico said. “Just a breakup.”

“And that your father was in jail for murder,” Chris said. “Not that he had murdered people with magic.”

“In hindsight, it kind of makes sense.” Tanner frowned.

“Now that we’re saying all this out loud, I feel kind of stupid.” Rico scowled.

“Like, why did we even believe him when he disappeared on full moons sometimes?” Chris sighed.

“But we’re still mad at you,” Tanner said.

“Because you’re an asshole,” Rico said.

“The biggest asshole,” Chris said.

They crossed their arms over their chests and glared at Gordo.

“I missed you guys,” Gordo said hoarsely. “More than you could possibly know.”

“Goddammit,” Tanner said.

“Mierda,” Rico said.

“We need to hug now,” Chris said.

And they piled on top of us.

I WALKED home that night.

The stars shone overhead.

I reached the dirt road that led to the house at the end of the lane.

Joe was there.

I hadn’t seen him since the first day.

He was dressed normally now. A pair of jeans. A soft sweater.

He’d shaved the beard off. I saw the boy in him that he’d once been.

Barely, but still there.