Lycan's Prey by Jessica Hall

Chapter 138

I close my eyes, trying to conjure the image, but all I can see is Brielle’s broken body on the ground. “No, I… I can’t see anything but Bri.”

“There were yellow paint scrapes on her bike,” Mom says quietly.

My eyes snap open, confusion flooding through me. “Yellow paint? What do you mean?”

Mom takes a deep breath. “But they caught the man who hit her?” I tell her, and my mother nods sadly. “They did.”

“What are you saying?” I ask, confused, wondering where she is going with this.

“That man was your grandfather, Aubrey. He was drunk behind the wheel,” she says softly, but I shake my head violently.

“No. No, that’s not possible.”

“Yes, Aubrey,” Mom nods, her voice breaking. “That’s why I stopped speaking to your grandmother. She gave him her keys, knowing he was drunk.”

The room spins around me. “But Grandpa, he… he…” I can’t finish the sentence.

“He died not long afterward, remember?” she asks me, and my brows pinch together.

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Chapter 139

he died from heartbreak?”

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himself. He couldn’t live with the guilt, knowing I would never forgive

crumbling around me.

truth hanging over it.” Her eyes are pools of sorrow, mirroring my own feelings

get the words out, the realization that my own

me again. But I flinch away from her touch, shaking my head. “I get you’re upset, you lost your sister. But I lost my daughter, my mother and my father all in one day. I know you think I was cruel not helping her, but she defended him, and then blamed me for his death when he ended it.” she tells me. She swallows thickly, glancing at my sister’s pillow. She

just couldn’t,” Mom says, looking away. “In every story you told, Grandpa was still your hero. I didn’t have the

my throat, tears prickling my eyes, a storm of emotions rising within me. My hands tremble as I remember her smile, her

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taking my hand in hers. “She was

he… why would he…” But the answer

a broken man, Aubrey,” Mom offers, but it’s small consolation against the guilt and betrayal coursing through me. “The

she nods, grief etching deep lines into her face.