I leaned my head back, feet resting on the patio table listening to my brothers bicker about money. Nothing new. A loud sigh came from the other side of the patio table.
"Why don't you put it to a vote? It would make this day go by so much quicker. I'm tired of listening to you," Scott Parris groaned before taking a drink of beer.
Drew and Tyler, my brothers both glared at him. I smirked behind my bottle, knowing that he was right. The two Flanagan men wouldn't come to a decision without leaving a few bruises on each other and one of them conceding. Tyler looked at me next and I raised my eyebrows. I pointed the opening of my bottle at Scott.
"He's right. You already know that everyone has an opinion on this."
"Fine," Tyler grabbed the papers he'd brought to the argument, "you grab everyone. That should be enough to make a formal decision."
Scott and I both hid our chuckles and following my older brother inside the house.
Fifteen minutes later, the werewolves that lived at Talia Grove were gathered in the dining room. It was the only room large enough to hold meetings for thirteen people. Not to mention, it was the only room my mother didn't freak out if the wolves made dirty with crumbs.
"What's going on?" my mother, Stella Flanagan walked into the room, placing beers on the table. I reached for one, smacking my teenage sister's hand out of the way.
"Uh-uh, you're fifteen. Nice try," I said. Nicole stuck her tongue out at me, draping her arm across our mother's shoulders.
"Alright, let's leave these children," Stella said as she and Nicole left the room, "please try not to break anything."
Once the humans were gone, Tyler stood up and held up a piece of paper in his hand. He announced that he wanted to spend the Pack's disposable income for the year on an apartment building to rent out. I zoned out as he explained his decision to the others. Tyler had shown me this paper at least fifteen times. My attention was drawn when I felt fingertips run up my spine. I looked beside me, smiling at James Blake. His attention was not focused on my brother either. As we were never often apart, James had heard the speech as many times. He winked at me then looked back at Tyler.
"Now, this sounds fascinating but what does young Andrew have to bring to the table?" James asked, sarcasm lacing his words. Tyler flipped James off and sat down as my twin brother stood up. He smacked Tyler on the head with his own papers. Drew had a lot of confidence in his idea. The group of men laughed at interaction.
"Thank you very much, James, for the lovely introduction. Yes, an apartment complex would be a nice use of the spare money we've collected over the last year but, truthfully, it's more work than any of you want to do. I suggest we invest in stocks and then with what's left, we go on a trip to Niagara Falls or go across the border."
The Pack looked around the table at each other. It sounded like a solid plan, unsurprising to me as my brother was top of his class.
I sat up straight and cleared my throat, "alright, you've all heard the two options. Raise your hand for one or the other. Simple."
Thirty seconds later, we had a tie.
"Alright, the only answer is to wait for Charlie and Aaron to get home," I said.
I was prepared to end the meeting when we heard the front door open, and slam shut. Good timing. We all sat in wait, hearing two pairs of footsteps stomping through the house.
"You really have to keep – what's the matter?" my mother's change in tone floated in from the hallway. I stepped through the doorframe, watching as my father and Godfather walked towards me.
"What happened?" I asked, reading their expressions.
"Everyone in there?" Aaron O'Shalle pointed towards the room as they approached.
I nodded, stepping back into the room. My father's face was unreadable, but it sent a chill down my spine. I sat down, and everyone fell silent. Charlie stopped at the head of the table, hands resting on the top of the chair and my eyes went to the manila envelope he clutched. Aaron leaned against the wall next to the door; arms crossed with a hand across his mouth. The look on his face concerned me as well. The room was full of tension. No one understood what was happening. After a moment of my father's eyes wandering the room, he sighed.
"I don't know what to say, so," Charlie said and tossed the envelope on to the table.
There was a pause, and no one moved. Tyler and I looked at each other with uncertainty. Neither of us wanted to look at what was causing the looks on Charlie's and Aaron's faces.
"Oh, for fuck's sakes," Kurtis, one of the older Pack members said, grabbing the envelope. He revealed a small handful of photographs. He looked at Charlie and Aaron with confusion then back to the pictures, flipping through them.
"What the hell is this?" Kurtis's face continued to be confused but the expression morphed into what I read as disgust. Intrigued, Tyler took the photos from his hands. I watched Tyler's eyebrows scrunch together as he processed what he was looking at.
"Is that Bill?" Tyler asked, looking at our father. Charlie didn't react. Tyler held one of the photographs out to me. My stomach knotted at the idea of looking at it from how the other two had reacted.
From beside me, Drew took the picture instead. He didn't look at it long. Swearing, Drew pushed the photograph in my face. I couldn't help but look at it now. The photograph was gruesome. I almost recognized Bill Watts, a Pack member from British Columbia. He was staring at me, eyes wide in shock. Half of his skull was missing, and blood was everywhere. It appeared that his body was slumped against a brick wall. Truthfully, it was a mess of red.
"Wha – where did these come from?" I stuttered out, my brain processing. I wasn't sure if the picture was real. I passed the photograph to James, accepting the next bloody scene from Tyler.
"These were sent to our P.O. box. No return address other than an indication it was sent from Alberta. There's a sticky note attached to the back of the last one, saying that we have unsatisfied clients," Charlie explained.
"This isn't Bill," Brandon Kane showed the picture in his hand to Charlie.
"That's Michael," Scott said over Brandon's shoulder, his voice cracked with realization. Michael Stone was another Pack werewolf from British Columbia.
"They killed two of our people?" Brandon exclaimed, "what is happening?"
The room fell silent. Not a single Pack member knew what to say. Charlie glaring down at the table, his jaw tightened. My father was frustrated that he didn't have an answer for us.