Miriam cupped my cheek in one hand. “Then make it stop.”

Chapter 16

Miriam is a talker. The woman used more words in a single day than Liam does in a year. During the week we stayed in Fargo I learned about different Shifters and Seers involved in the whole rebellion, including various tidbits about their personal lives, especially the parts they probably didn’t want anyone else knowing. She talked about what Liam and Alex were like when they came to live with her after their parents died. She laughed at Alex’s non-stop antics and worried at Liam’s unbreakable seriousness. I even endured countless stories about her family, including her favorite nephew, Diaz, which explains how Liam knew a gang leader in Texas. However, despite Miriam’s love of gossip, I got the impression she thought her nephew was a nice, law-abiding boy.

Hank turned out to be Fargo’s most well-respected lawyer, which meant he was either in his downtown office or court most days, but he always made it a point to be home for dinner. He would then spend the evening watching Liam and me spar, offering up some pointers for the both of us, or he would huddle in his home office, talking with Liam about Shifter politics and making conference calls to other Shifters and Seers around the world.

Hank and Miriam’s house felt like a home. We didn’t know each other well enough for it to be a home filled with love, but feelings of respect, concern, and safety abounded. Even Liam seemed to relax during our stay.

But for me, and I would wager Liam too, there was a sadness clinging to every corner of the house like a cobweb of grief and loss. Every time Miriam shared an Alex story, I could see the ghost of him there. I could only imagine how much worse it was for Liam, who had seen Alex lounge on the sofa in the family room and eat at the counter in the kitchen. By the time we left I couldn’t decide whether I was grateful to run away from the reminders of the dead, or heartbroken to be leaving the only comfort and safety I had known in a long time.

Liam looked on the verge of tears when he hugged Miriam goodbye. Hank drove us out to a Wal-Mart on the outskirts of town and helped us load our bags into a pickup which had seen many better days. There was a tarp over the back, and I could just make out the shape of something that had to be a small boat underneath.

“Thank you,” Liam said, shaking the older man’s hand in a stiff and formal manner. “I owe you one.”

Hank used the hand Liam was shaking to pull him into a hug. “You owe me nothing. I’ve told you time and again, I will always be here for you. Always.” Liam merely nodded, his lips pressed together tightly. Then we got in the truck and watched Hank drive away.

And then we continued to sit there.

After three full minutes (I know because I clocked it), I turned to Liam. “Are we waiting for someone?”

He shook his head.

“So, we’re… what? On a schedule? A sit here for a really long time schedule?”

Another shake of the head.

“Liam, seriously. Why are we sitting here?”

All of his air left his lungs in a rush as his chin hit his chest. “I don’t…” He mumbled the rest of the sentence so quietly even with my super-hearing I couldn’t discern a word.

“Care to try that again? This time try using your tongue, lips, and vocal chords.”

His head snapped up and the oh-so-familiar Liam glare hit me full-on. “I said, ‘I don’t know how to drive a stick shift.’ Happy?”

I probably shouldn’t have laughed, and I certainly shouldn’t have done so until tears streamed down my cheeks, but I couldn’t help myself.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he groused once I calmed into giggles.

“What were you going to do? Just sit here until it magically turned into an automatic?” I knew he wouldn’t answer, so I went ahead and got out of the car and walked around to the driver’s seat. “Scoot,” I said, opening the door.

“What?”

“Scoot.” I made a shooing motion with my hand to illustrate the point. “Slide over to the passenger’s seat.”

Liam eyed me suspiciously, which just made me smile bigger. This was so much fun.

“I would try to tell you how to do it yourself, but I suck as a teacher. So, scoot over and let me drive.”

“You know how to drive a stick shift?” He was still suspicious, but he did move on over.

I hoisted myself into the driver’s seat and readjusted it so I could actually reach the gas and clutch. Stupid boy with his stupid ridiculously long legs. “Of course. I was raised in Kentucky, remember?”

“That merely necessitates that you know the basic rules of basketball and have an affinity for open-faced sandwiches.”

“And know how to drive farm equipment." The truck started with a grumble. “I was driving a tractor when I was seven.”

I didn’t mention how I ran over my father’s foot the first time, or how I took out an entire fence row on my second attempt. Things like that a girl should keep to herself.

“But your family doesn’t live on a farm. You don’t even have a garden, unless you count the two tomato plants your mom planted too late in the season and then forgot to water.”

I started to ask him exactly how he knew about that, but then I remembered how he had been my personal secret bodyguard over the summer. It was one of those things I knew fundamentally, but when it came to realizing the actualities of it, I was ignorant. Like, I knew Liam had hung around our house in his wolf form, but I hadn’t thought about how he would have seen my mom’s sad attempt at going organic.

“My mom’s parents have a big farm out in Livingston County,” I said, referring to the mother who raised me instead of the one who died in child birth. “Jase and I spent a week with them every summer when we were little. I had to feed the pigs, gather eggs from the chickens, and work in the garden. I was quite the little country bumpkin.” The truck jerked to a stop at the red light. “Which way? Or does the driver get to choose our adventure?”

“I thought you said you knew how to drive a stick.” Liam braced one hand on the dashboard while the other clung desperately to the oh-crap handle.

“I do. There’s an adjustment period.”

“Can we get to the part where you’re not trying to decapitate me with the seatbelt soon?”

“I can’t promise anything,” I said, jerking the gear shift back into first.