Filed to story: Reclaimed Book by Roxie Ray
“Mom. Please.”
“All right, just tell me. Who’s the lucky dragon?”
I pressed my lips together for a moment, then exhaled and finally told her the truth. “It’s Stephan.”
“What?!” Mom squawked. “You mean
Ace?
The clan alpha Ace?”
“Shh, you’ll wake Dylan! Yes, it’s
Ace. He was always Stephan to me.”
“Good lord, girl, you’ll be the death of me yet.” Mom rubbed her hand across her forehead. “I never would’ve guessed Ace was Dylan’s father. Though, now that I think about it, there is a resemblance…”
“Apparently since Stephan is an alpha, it’s likely that Dylan is, too. An alpha dragon will only listen to its sire. So, here we are.”
“Harley, do you have any idea what Ace has been up to since that summer?”
“No, we haven’t kept in touch. Obviously. He doesn’t know about Dylan.”
Mom’s phone, screen-down on the coffee table, began to buzz. She grabbed it, raised her eyebrows at the screen, then stood up in a hurry. “Hold that thought. I need to take this.”
“What? Mom! What has he been up to?”
She grabbed her wine and hurried up the stairs with her phone pressed between her shoulder and her ear.
Classic Liz Founty. Ignoring me right when I needed her most. Shaking my head, I went to the kitchen. I’d only had fries since my crappy airport lunch, and I was getting hungry. I opened the fridge. Beer and condiments. I checked the cabinets. Expired pasta and… More condiments. The wine rack was full, though, and the cabinet over the sink was as well-stocked as a liquor store.
Great. So now I’d have to wrangle our own dinner, too. Ridiculous of me to think Mom would have anything in mind other than a shitty pizza delivery. Dylan needed at least one real vegetable today.
I poured myself a small glass of wine, then killed some time shooting off a few check-in texts to Suri and Cassidy, and answering the last of my work emails. By the time I was done, Mom was back downstairs. Except now she was dressed differently. Same tight jeans, but she’d put on a tight white T-shirt, a pair of chunky heels, and a swipe of red lipstick.
“I’ve got to run, honey,” Mom said. “I’ll be out for a bit, so you and Dylan make yourselves at home, okay? There’s a list of good delivery places on the side of the fridge.”
“What the hell, Mom, are you going on a date?”
“I’ll see you later, okay?” Mom called, and then she was out the door.
“So, what has Ace been doing?” I asked the empty house. Of course, there was no answer.
Dylan came downstairs with his hair mussed like a bird’s nest, still dressed in the clothes he’d traveled in. He blinked a few times blearily at me. “Mom? Did Mama Liz leave?”
“Yeah, she had plans,” I said. “But she’ll be back later.”
“I’m hungry,” he said sheepishly. “What’s for dinner?”
I knew I should go grocery shopping, but after a long day of travel, even nuking a frozen dinner in the microwave sounded like too much work. “How does pizza sound?”
“Pizza!” Dylan cheered.
“I hope the good place downtown hasn’t closed. We’ll grab some groceries afterward.” Might as well stock Mom’s kitchen for our whole stay, since she apparently had no intention of doing so.
We made our way back out to the car. The engine protested a little when I turned the key but eventually kicked on, and we drove away from Mom’s house and into Lakeview proper.
I’d forgotten how cute the Lakeview downtown really was. It was a sleepy little strip of buildings, all no more than two stories, so the mountains surrounding the town looked even larger as they soared into the sky. It was a perfect little tourist strip, with little shops selling local pottery and clothes, a mix of restaurants and cafés, and even an old-fashioned soda fountain.
And lucky for us, the old pizzeria on the corner was still open.
Downtown was a little busy, the narrow sidewalks dotted with people coming in and out of the shops. I slung my arm around Dylan’s shoulders. It was a casual gesture, but one rooted in my protectiveness. I didn’t know if he noticed the looks, but I sure as hell did. As we walked, more than a few people glanced at Dylan, then me, with confused and even shocked expressions. I was grateful none of them said anything. It had been a serious understatement when Mom said there was a resemblance between Dylan and Stephan. Dylan looked exactly like his father. He got my snark, my stubbornness, and my independence-but all of his looks came from Stephan. Funny that these random citizens out for the evening seemed to notice that when my own mother hadn’t. Funny and sad. My mother was never great at paying attention.
“What kind of pizza should we get?” Dylan asked as we walked into the shop. “Whoa, look at that big oven!”
“Anything you want, but pick at least one vegetable for the topping,” I said. “It’ll make me feel better.”
We sat in the back corner and split a large pie-and by split, I mean Dylan had six huge slices while I had two. It was nice, but almost surreal. I used to come here with my mom way back in the day. It made my heart hurt a little, an old pang of nostalgia. At least the pizza was still delicious.
After we ate, Dylan was in a much better mood. We made our way back to the car, after I veered him away from the very busy ice cream shop-“We’ll get some in the grocery store, I promise”-because I didn’t want to subject ourselves to more curious stares.
One big grocery run later, and I’d be in a bed. Asleep. Exactly what I needed.
I climbed into the car and turned the key.
The engine sputtered.
“Oh, Jesus,” I muttered as I turned the key again.
More sputtering.
Sputtering.
Sputtering.
“Mom?” Dylan asked. “Is it broken?”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” I said, “but maybe we should’ve splurged for the sports car.”
After three more tries, the engine stopped sputtering. It was dead. Dylan waited in the passenger seat while I called the rental agency. It was getting late, and I caught them right before they closed. The exhausted-sounding man on the other end said they’d contact their local repair partner and send a tow truck.
Great. Now I had to get towed. This day was just getting better and better.
I opened the passenger door and stuck my head inside. “Forget the grocery shopping, kiddo. Tow truck is on the way.”
“Now can we go to the ice cream place? It’s right there!”
Sighing, I handed him a ten-dollar bill. “All right. Get a cone and come straight back here, okay?”
After a million years-okay, fifteen minutes-of waiting, a gleaming black tow truck, unmarked, finally pulled up to the street. Dylan and I both climbed out of the SUV to talk to the driver. The tow truck’s driver’s side door opened, and a tall man in a faded denim jumpsuit stepped out.
“Harley Founty,” he said.
I nearly dropped my phone on the sidewalk. “Hawk?”