Free Hidden Moon (Hot Moon Rising #4) by Afton Locke Page B

for consensus circulated through his
    blood.
    When he headed to the parking lot, though, he found Dad shuffling toward the front
    door on the sturdy arm of Rita, his caregiver. He wore baggy sweatpants and a pajama
    top.
    Alan frowned at him. “What are you doing here?”
    The Hispanic woman shot him a helpless look. “He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
    “I need to be in my diner,” the older man practically growled. “Otherwise, you might
    as well bury my carcass right now.”
    Alan’s stomach dropped. If he sold the diner, especially to another pack, it wouldn’t
    be his father’s territory anymore. Getting him back to the house probably wouldn’t be
    any easier. After his outburst, he didn’t have the strength to argue.
    “Let’s get him settled in the storeroom. He and I need to talk alone.”
    Relief flooded Rita’s dark eyes. From what Shelley had told him, Alan knew she was a
    refugee from another pack who’d joined theirs after he’d left. Judging by the wary
    expression on her cinnamon-hued face, she knew about his violent reputation.
    “Sure.” She helped Don up the stoop. “Meanwhile, I can make a grocery run.”
    In the storeroom, Alan cut the steak and cheese sub he’d hastily fried up and gave his
    father half.
    “I received an offer for the diner this morning.”
    Dad’s grizzled eyebrows rose. “So soon? Who from?”
    When Alan told him about Graham from the Starwood pack, he nearly choked on his
    sub.
    “You mean you’d sell my heritage to a rival pack? What kind of son are you?”
    “I have a job to return to.” Alan kept his voice calm, fighting the irritation prickling
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    across his skin. “The pack proposed buying it as a group, but that could be drawn out
    and complicated. The quicker and cleaner the sale, the better.”
    “I don’t want to sell it.”
    “What!” Alan dropped his sub and the meat inside spilled out on the counter. “But
    you agreed.”
    “I changed my mind. I have a better idea.”
    “Can’t wait to hear it,” Alan said, crossing his arms.
    “I want you to run it.”
    He let out a choked laugh. “No way. I hate cooking.”
    Having Shelley pressed close to his side making pancakes earlier hadn’t been too
    painful, though. Her presence calmed him in a way he couldn’t explain.
    Don picked a piece of onion out of his beard. “So hire a cook.”
    Why was everyone so determined to keep him here? Okay, the pack wasn’t, but
    Shelley and Dad—the only people who mattered to him—were.
    “You know I have a life to get back to.”
    “Oh, yes, your wonderful life.” Dad’s gaze drifted to the ceiling. “Why you’d rather
    freeze your balls off up there alone and sit in front of a computer all day is beyond me.”
    Alan picked up his sub meat and downed it in a couple of bites. He was a monster, so
    he may as well eat like one.
    “You weren’t here earlier when I threw a crate of tomatoes against the wall.” Sweat
    beaded across his brow from the mere thought of it. “I was completely out of control.
    Shelley and most of the pack saw it.”
    “You could learn to control the beast like I did,” the old man shot back.
    “Yeah, right.” Alan picked the cheese out of his bread and gulped it. “After I kill a few
    people along the way.”
    Don waved a greasy hand. “Young people have no patience. A man belongs with his
    mate.”
    “That happily-ever-after shit is for normal men and shifters.”
    Dad set down his half-eaten sandwich. “Where do you think you came from? An alien
    spaceship? I had a woman once.”
    An image of Alan’s mother flashed through his mind. She’d died when he was six
    from an illness. He remembered her gentleness the most. How she dabbed his runny
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    nose when he was sick. Pulled his boots on before he went out into the rain. Best of all,
    how she snuggled with him before he went to sleep at night, reading him stories.
    Shelley was gentle. Too much for her own good. He could easily picture her