He was still standing on the porch.
His eyes widened when he saw the box in my hand.
He said, “No.”
He said, “Gordo.”
He said, “Just wait. Please just wait.”
I held it out to him.
He didn’t take it.
I said, “You take it. You take it now.”
Mark Bennett said, “Please.”
I thrust it against his chest. He flinched. “Take it,” I snapped.
He did. His fingers trailed against mine. Gooseflesh prickled along my bare shoulders. The air was cool, and I thought I was drowning.
“It doesn’t have to be this way.”
“You tell Thomas,” I said, struggling to get the words out while I still could. “You tell him I don’t want anything to do with him. That I don’t want to see him again. You tell him to stay out of Green Creek.”
Mark looked shocked. “Or what?”
“Or he won’t like what I’ll do.”
I let myself have one last look at him. This man. Thi
s wolf. It was a second that lasted ages.
And I turned and went inside, slamming the door shut behind me.
He stood on my porch for a long minute. I could hear him breathing.
Then he left.
I allowed myself one last tear over Mark Bennett.
But that was it.
I would see him again, though I didn’t know it then. Years would go by, but one day he would return. They all would. Thomas. Elizabeth. Carter. Kelly. Joe. Mark. They would come back to Green Creek, and behind them, a beast that would mean the death of Thomas Bennett.
WE SURROUNDED Joe as we stood in front of the Bennett house for the first time in three years, one month, and twenty-six days.
In front of us stood a pack that we didn’t belong to.
Elizabeth.
Rico.
Chris.
Tanner.
Jessie.