Wild Hunger (The Phoenix Pack #7)(102)
Fear blazed in his eyes. “This will destroy Marcia and Geoffrey.”
“You should have thought about that before you gave Cruz that gun,” said Frankie. “But I think it’s been a very long time since you’ve thought of anyone but yourself.” With that, she turned her back on Brad and strode over to the SUV.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Four months later
Frankie carefully swiped the fine paintbrush over the clay fang, making it a dull white to match the others. It was the last unpainted tooth within the ugly, prehistoric dire wolf’s mouth. She hadn’t yet decided whether to add drops of red paint to the jaws. She probably should, since she’d streaked it over his lower legs—as if he’d trampled through a river of blood during his travels. His claws were thick and long, but one was sharper and longer than the others; it looked more like a knife, and she’d painted it bloodred.
Yes, she was well aware that the creature symbolized Cruz in some way. He’d been metaphorically knee-deep in blood. He’d killed her mother with a knife. And if anyone were to look beneath the large paws of the sculpted wolf, they would see black spots resembling the gun residue that should have been on his hands. Christopher’s finger might have been on the trigger, but he never would have shot himself. His death was on Cruz.
After clearing the rubble and unearthing Cruz’s body, the Bjorn wolves had confirmed that he was in fact killed by the cabin’s collapse. His family was naturally devastated by everything. They were mourning him while also hating what he’d done and feeling ashamed for being blind to it all. Clara felt particularly guilty, knowing the pain her son had caused her best friend. So guilty, in fact, that she hadn’t felt she deserved to attend Frankie and Trick’s mating ceremony—nothing they’d said had managed to convince her otherwise.
Putting down the paintbrush, Frankie took a swig from her water bottle. The mating ceremony had gone exactly how Iris had told Frankie it would. The whole thing had still felt almost magical. Her wolf had loved every second of it.
The after-party had been a blast. Taryn had tried getting Greta rotten drunk, but she’d had no luck. The old woman apparently wasn’t going to take any chances that she’d pour out any more of her true feelings.
By unspoken mutual consent, Frankie and Greta had decided never to speak of the karaoke incident. Trick thought it occasionally amusing to hum “Greased Lightning” under his breath when she and Greta were in the same room, but Frankie didn’t find anything funny about it.
With the exception of Bracken, who was still deep in grief, the Mercury Pack had attended the ceremony. There had also been some other outsiders, such as Trick’s parents, Makenna’s coworkers, and even Abigail.
During the after-party, Frankie had asked Uma why she’d suddenly been able to push aside her anger with Trey. She’d said, “When Trick went into the basement to rescue you, I saw the same panic on Trey’s face that I knew was on mine. He shoved everyone out of the way, determined to be the one who pulled you, Trick, and Marcus out of there. How can I be angry with someone who would risk themselves for my son that way?”
Her change of behavior toward Trey hadn’t relaxed Trick. In fact, it seemed to Frankie that he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. But so far, so good.
Frankie hadn’t invited her grandparents to the ceremony, since she’d known it would be as hard for Trick as it would be for them. He was still tremendously pissed at them, and she suspected that he always would be, purely for keeping him and Frankie apart for so long.
After Brad “disappeared,” she’d gone to her grandparents’ house and played the recording of his confession. At first they’d been outraged and insisted that the voice didn’t belong to Brad. She’d expected their reaction, though, so she’d simply left. A week later, Geoffrey called and told her they’d found her mother’s ring and dress among Brad’s possessions.
They still weren’t yet ready to come to terms with Brad’s involvement in the murders, but they were no longer accusing Frankie of lying. They were also struggling to accept Christopher’s innocence. They’d spent so long hating him that they couldn’t quite shake it off. Still, they were no longer insisting that she shouldn’t have any involvement with her pack. In fact, they occasionally asked how things were going with Trick.
Frankie doubted they would ever visit pack territory or be happy that she was part of a pack, but they seemed to have lost their bitterness about it. They’d even hinted that she and Trick could one day go to their house for lunch. None of them were ready for that yet, but it was enough that they were making progress.
Geoffrey had asked if she knew what had happened to Brad, and she’d replied, “No.” Whether he believed her or not, she couldn’t be sure. But she’d never asked what had been done to Brad; she didn’t want to know, and that seemed to suit Trick just fine.
A few weeks after the ceremony, Frankie visited Christopher’s grave with Trick, who didn’t release her hand even once—as if to remind her that she wasn’t alone. And as she’d stared down at her father’s grave, a lump had formed in her throat. Not just at what he’d been through and the years with him she’d lost, but at the fact that he hadn’t even been able to be buried alongside his mate. Such a thing seemed cruel, but she doubted she’d be able to convince her grandparents to relocate Caroline’s body. That just made the whole thing even sadder.