Page 94 of Cursed: Ride or Die
The old man shot to his feet. “You want the truth? I’ll give you the truth! Your sister was a damned fucking traitor to her own kind. She left us. Left us, for an animal! Dirtied herself with a filthy beast.”
Pain sliced into Slade’s side. Mac raised a brow. Slade nodded and mouthed, “I’m okay.”
“She told me she loved him. You said he’d tricked her. Whose blood did I find in her room the night she disappeared?” Andrew shot a glance from face to face, desperation in his eyes. He told the truth. He honestly didn’t know. Whatever the old man had done, Andrew Pritchard hadn’t known.
Thomas Pritchard said no more.
Andrew turned frantic eyes on Debra. “My sister didn’t die the night she disappeared, did she?”
Lowering her voice, Debra spoke more calmly than Slade could’ve. “No. She left of her own free will. Chose Jake as her mate.”
“They married?”
“Our equivalent, yes,” Debra said. “They bonded. She became a member of our pack. Although she couldn’t share full moon runs with us, in all other ways, she was an equal. More than equal, being the alpha’s mate.”
“And she had kids.” Andrew’s words came out more statement than question.
Pieces slotted into place in Slade’s mind. Oh, dear God, no!
“Two boys. Andrew, the one your father shot a couple of hours ago, and a younger boy named Nathan.”
Andrew. Noah’s uncle Andrew. The man he’d been named for. His mother must have loved the guy, then, at some point. Slade’s exhausted mind whirled.
“Is… is he okay?” Andrew placed a shaking hand on Mac’s desk.
Debra’s tones softened for a moment while talking about her nephew. Their shared nephew. “I ought not to tell you, but yes, he is. For now.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“How would you feel if you discovered your closely held beliefs were lies?” Debra mock gasped. “I suppose you just did.”
Andrew stayed quiet for a few moments. When he spoke again, he used a meeker voice than Slade would have thought possible a short while ago. “How old were they when…”
“Five and three.” Debra’s gaze never wavered. “Valerie was pregnant when she died.”
“Pregnant? They killed her while she was pregnant?”
“Yes. She wasn’t the only pregnant member of the pack either.”
“When my father found the enclave, I wanted to go, wanted revenge for my sister. Dad wouldn’t let me go.” Andrew raised a hand to his trembling lips, now glaring at his father. “When you came back, you said we got our revenge. Who did you kill, Dad? Who?”
Debra’s glare should’ve reduced the old man to ashes. “Andrew, your piece of shit father wouldn’t have found the enclave if he hadn’t contacted Valerie, saying he loved her, missed her, wanted to make peace. Instead, he abused your sister’s trust, slaughtering everyone.”
Thomas stepped up into his son’s space. “I killed a traitor, the animal who’d taken her from us, and her damned abominations.”
Andrew sank down into a chair. “Oh, God! For six years, you let me believe Valerie was dead. Taught me to hate the shifters, to kill them.” His face lost its color. “Then you killed her yourself, the reason why you didn’t want me there. You didn’t want me to know. You killed children. Her children. Your own grandsons! How could you?”
“As easy as putting down a rabid dog,” the old man said in smug tones. Why, the asshole!
Mac’s iron grip on Slade’s arm kept the whoop-ass in the can. “He needs killing!” Slade growled.
“I know,” Mac replied, very matter-of-fact. “I agree. However, we can’t compound the problem by taking the law into our own hands.”
For a moment, for a long, torturous moment, Andrew stared open-mouthed at his father. Calmly, he rose to his feet—and backhanded his father across the mouth. “You lying son of a bitch! What else have you lied to me about? Huh?”
“Everything,” Debra replied. “He lied about everything. About the wolves being the enemy, about your family’s sacred mission to destroy them. Where do you think the money comes from to finance your little operation? There’s no trust like he says or donations from others who’ve lost loved ones to werewolves. Every dime he stole from his victims.”
“Dad, say it’s not true. Please, say It's not true,” Andrew begged. The agony on his face said he knew the truth clear down to his soul. He collapsed onto the floor, face buried in his hands. “Oh, God. I’m sorry, Valerie. I’m so fucking sorry! I didn’t know. I never would have…” His words dissolved into sobs. No one comforted him. No one had any comfort to offer.
