Dirty Looks (Dirt Track Dogs: The Second Lap Book 1) (2 page)

Chapter Two

Aaron Redman gripped the steering wheel of his old Ford truck tight as he blew past the tiny green sign declaring he’d reached Cedar Valley town limits. Coming here never felt like coming home anymore. Partly because he’d stayed gone for nine years before he returned last Christmas to visit his sister, and partly because no place on earth felt like home to him anymore.

Not since losing Mina.

He shook his head as if the action would shake loose the awful memories that still clung to him, but it didn’t. Of course it didn’t.

He was fairly sure nothing would ever lessen the guilt and sadness he felt over his part in her death. It had been years since the woman he loved was caught in the crosshairs of a battle that had nothing to do with her, and he was only just barely able to think rationally about the situation.

Or maybe not so rational. But at least he could fucking breathe when he remembered how he’d failed her.

Even though years had passed, not a damn thing was settled really. He blamed a changer for her death. A werewolf who owned a junkyard down in Memphis. And the wolf blamed Aaron for a loss too. They’d wronged each other and there would be no making it right. No settling.

Ever.

But his visit home at Christmas had taught him a few things. Chief among them was… he was ready to move on.

Or try to at least.

He wouldn’t—
couldn’t
—forgive the changers for what they’d done to Mina. But he could admit they weren’t
all
to blame.

The one his sister had mated was a stand-up guy. A little quiet. Kept to himself mostly except for his pack. Rough around the edges and had the scars to prove it. But the man loved Annie. Adored her the way she deserved to be adored.

He was good.

And the same could be said for the other changers who lived in Cedar Valley. A pack called Dirt Track Dogs, named after the racing club they owned. From the intel he’d gathered during his last visit, there were six wolves, a panther, and a bobcat, not counting the children. They lived among the humans peaceably. Not taking. Not harming. And at times even giving back. They’d helped local businesses rebuild when a tornado hit the town a few years back. They participated in potluck dinners for the down-on-their-luck. They were valuable members of the community.

They were nothing like the Memphis changers. Nothing like the ones he’d battled as a hunter.

Aaron sighed.

They called ‘em shifters down this way, and if he was going to make some changes, he supposed he could start by doing away with the term ‘changers’.

Cutting a hard left, he bypassed the road that led to his house. Correction: his
sister’s
house. It didn’t belong to him anymore. Sure, he shared the name space with her on the deed, but she was the one who’d lived there for the last ten years. She was the one who’d taken care of the old place. And now she had a family to start filling it up.

It was hers. Which meant… he’d have to find a place to stay besides the rundown hotel he’d used at Christmas.

He made his way down the main drag to the bar & grill his parents had owned since he was a wee tike trying to talk through a lisp. Red Cap was something else that belonged to Annie now. And his parents would’ve wanted it that way.

Red Cap was more than a bar. It was a haven. And even before their death, they knew Annie had a knack for taking care of people. Her famous fried chicken came with a warm side of smiles and your choice of a shoulder to cry on or an ear to bend.

So even though he didn’t feel a claim to the place, pulling into the chuck hole-filled parking lot was the first time he’d felt a faintest sense of home since arriving in Cedar Valley.

Turning off the ignition, he noticed his hand shaking and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He wasn’t usually so jumpy, but ever since his trip back to Memphis, he felt like a monkey had crawled onto his back and the bastard refused to let go.
Something
was giving him the itches.

“It’s called guilt, asshole,” he muttered the truth to himself.

He’d come too damn close to losing his soul out there. Too close to becoming one of the bad guys. Hunting the paranormal wasn’t for the faint of heart. It chipped away at everything you believed. Took chunks out of your heart. Changed you until you didn’t know the person who looked back at you from the mirror. Hell, maybe he was too far gone, but he was here to at least
try
to find himself again.

And it started with his friends. His boys. Adam, Rod, and Rider. He was meeting them here, and if anyone could set him straight, it was them.

He’d known them since high school, when the rural middle schools they all attended converged into one for those last four glorious years of young adulthood. Back then, Annie had suggested they call their little troupe A
2
R
2
in honor of their first initials, with the option to make it A
3
whenever she was around. But that was way too mathy to be cool, so they became
Double A Double R
, in the style of a ranch name. They even came up with a brand like the ones you see on cattle, and for graduation they’d gone and had it tatted on.

That was before his parents’ accident and his subsequent “escape” from life. If only he had known where he was headed was much grimmer than where he’d come from.

Aaron shook his head and popped the handle on his door to step out.

He hoped his boys were cooler now than they were back then. But he had a feeling he’d be doing a healthy bit of groveling today.

Pulling open the door, he spotted his sister right away. Her eyes went big as globes because he hadn’t told her he was coming. Hadn’t spoken or written a word since Christmas. And damn, he probably should have. But he’d been a teensy bit preoccupied, trying to settle things with the hunters and make sure her pack was safe and not a target for elimination anymore.

His bosses—former now—weren’t exactly happy to have one of their best breaking rank. And were even less happy to find out he hadn’t completed his assignment to disable the Cedar Valley shifters.

“Well by golly, miss molly!” Annie twanged as she tossed her bar rag to the counter, which came about rib high on her, and scooted past the pierced and tatted to hell waitress. Punk was her name. She had pretty eyes and a poison mouth, and she belonged to one of the dogs.

Annie cleared the swinging door of the counter and launched herself at him, arms coming around his neck like a collar. Instinct had him wrapping her up in a hug tight enough to lift her off her feet, and it caught him by surprise. He’d done this a million times when they were younger. But when they reunited at Christmas, there were too many years of hurt between them. Too many unanswered questions and too much bitterness.

Throughout the holiday season and the birth of her baby—his niece, hard to believe he was an uncle now—Annie and the dogs had shown him there were still good things to live for.

He just had to find them.

And choose them.

It was the only way to let go of the past.

So that’s what he was trying to do. He’d fixed what he could with the hunters, tucked his hate for the Memphis shifters back behind his heart where no one could see it, and tossed his vengeance for Mina out the fucking window like a good little boy.

If he was straight with himself, his thirst for retribution wasn’t there because he hadn’t moved on from her. He had. They’d fallen quick in lust, shared a few good weeks, and then she was ripped from him before he even had time to know if she belonged in his future.

Short answer: apparently not.

He’d endured all seven stages of grief with her passing. Just like he did with his parents. But unlike his parents, Mina’s death was his fault. So the urge to make it right rode him hard no matter what his feelings were. He
owed
it to her, to avenge her death.

But he’d have to bear that guilt without acting on it if he was ever going to find happiness like his sister had. If he was ever going to feel like Aaron Redman again.

He set Annie back on her feet and cleared his throat to unclog the emotion jammed there.

“You came back,” she said, her eyes doing that thing where they get misty but she blinks too fast for any tears to fall.

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

She sniffed, her hands landing square on her hips. “Well, yeah. But I didn’t know if I should believe you or not.”

“The hell does that mean? I’ve never lied to you.”

“Maybe not. But how would I know. You also never talk to me.” She raised an emphatic blond eyebrow. And okay, yeah. She had a point. But he was here to do better. “How long are you around for?” she asked quietly, and he could hear the underlayer of sadness.

He stared at the floor so he wouldn’t have to see his sweet sister looking like she was resigned to losing him again.

“For a while,” he answered. But that meant he wasn’t here for good, and he was. Or that was the plan anyway. He just had to get used to this place again. “A long while,” he added.

Annie’s face went megawatt with her smile, and it eased the burn of his past a fraction. This was how she’d looked as a kid. Carefree. Happy. He missed it. He’d missed her. More than she could ever know.

“That… that’s great news,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him over toward the bar. “Really, really great news. Wow. I told Blister today was going to be a good one. But you know, Everly’s cutting teeth, so nothing’s looking good right now.”

Everly. His baby niece. He’d already missed so much.

“Really? She old enough for that?”

Annie maneuvered back behind the counter and Punk shot him a narrow eyed look while she dried off some glasses. He gave her a salute and her only response was to smirk.

“Yep. And you should see Blister, he’s just a mess. Can’t stand to see his baby girl cry. He keeps taking her to Destiny thinking she can do something to rush the process along. And she keeps sending him away with a pat on the back and a ‘go daddy, go.’”

Destiny was the bobcat shifter that belonged to the pack. She was mated to one of the wolves and the pack’s only official Elder—not necessarily old, but rather wise shifters with unknown powers that helped guide the packs.

Annie set a glass in front of him, and glanced at the clock. “It’s a little early for a drink, Aaron, but I’ve got fresh squeezed orange juice leftover from the breakfast run.”

It was almost four in the afternoon. It was most definitely
not
too early. Not when it was five o’clock… one time zone over.

The side of Aaron’s mouth lifted at his sister’s mock innocent blink. “Thanks, sis, but I’ll take a Bud.” He glanced over his shoulder. “And I’ll take it at that corner table if you don’t mind. I’m meeting someone.”

Annie froze, staring at him with careful eyes.

“Someone?” She lowered her voice to nothing. “A hunter someone?”

It made sense for her to worry about hunters coming here. Her family was the pack. But she had to know he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Or to DTD.

“Remember I said I needed to tie up some loose ends in Memphis?”

She nodded, her ringlet curls bouncing with the motion.

“Well, those guys are out of the picture now, okay? You don’t need to worry about them.”

Annie glanced at the glass on the counter. “How can you be sure?”

“Trust me, Annie.”

It was asking a lot, he knew. He’d left her alone when both of them were at their worst. At the time, he’d considered it tough love. And sure, it had helped get her to where she is now, with a group of friends who would do anything for her and a family to call her own. But the truth was, he’d run from life. From the troubles and pain, only to find more trouble and worse pain.

Trust wouldn’t come easily like it once did.

She sighed, twisting around to fill his glass from the tap.

“So, who is it you’re meeting?” she asked, sliding the frothy amber liquid in front of him.

“The boys.”

She frowned. “A squared R squared?”

“Those are the ones.”

Annie crossed her arms, leaning against the bar with a strange expression. “Huh.”

“What do you mean
huh
?”

“I’m just surprised is all.”

Aaron sipped his beer. “Why? Makes sense I’d get in touch with old friends.”

She nodded, looking away. “Sure. Yeah. I’m surprised they agreed though. They weren’t too happy when you left all those years ago.”

“I know.”

“And they kind of all have… issues now.”

“What kind of issues?”

Annie shrugged. “Life issues. You know, things aren’t all peaches and cream ‘round here. Some of them have really been through it. And they might not be exactly what you remember.”

“Yeah,” Aaron muttered, standing from his stool. “Well, I might not be exactly how they remember either.”