by Roxanne Lee
"No tears girlie, always works ou' in tha end. Besides I ain't leavin' ya alone wit' him, we all comin' too." His little squeeze of my shoulders brought a secret smile to my lips.
"Really? You won't leave me?"
"No chance, ya stuck wit' me an' them dogs fo' a good while yet."
We sat staring at that forest, his arm loose on my shoulders. That place had brought such changes; a life begun again, a life shifted and now a life of the unknown.
"Hey, Sam?"
"Yeah, girlie?"
"What's that damn Captains name?"
His deep, throaty laugh swallowed the quiet air.
" 'Captain' get real borin' real quick, huh? His name's Carver."
Chapter 13.
Hesitation is a wonderful thing. It allows that breath before you leap and that moment of clarity before chaos; that juncture between serenity and tempest.
My reluctant stand on the porch before the front door was an exercise in self restraint. In forcing myself to move forward when all my feet wanted to do was flee. It's a most peculiar sensation, knowing that a few steps through that door would set in motion a fate I, not only wasn’t ready for but, also one that I whole heartedly believed wasn’t something I was capable of. There was a beautiful reasoning behind this; too empty to fulfil someone else's needs, too much space given to retribution to be someone else's pardon. If there was one thing that this Captain could be assured of it was that I didn't need to be fixed. Broken was relative: am I broken if I choose to live? Am I broken if I determine one path over another? The right Road is some other persons therapy and I choose reparation over forgiveness.
Sam got impatient pretty quickly. His shove at my back was a grossly unnecessary hint. I huffed at his grin and turned the handle leading to my downfall.
The scene that greeted me was completely unexpected. The living room had been utterly demolished. The small sofa I had never sat on, the coffee table in the corner, the bookshelf and side cabinet in pieces littered on the floor. There were scratches spread wide and plentiful decorating the walls, and broken floorboards leaving deep trenches leading through to the kitchen.
"Interesting. What happened to your cabin, Sam?"
Sam snorted behind me, "Oh, your Captain Carver happen'."
I sighed in the knowledge that this was now going to be a thing; 'my Captain Carver'.
"Well I'd apologise, but he's not mine to apologise for."
A thud and resounding crash came from the kitchen.
"Think ya owe me a new chair, tha' one was all on you."
I sighed; I had a feeling I'd be doing that a lot more.
I moved slowly to the kitchen, more such devastation making itself known. The table was in half, several chairs were now scraps of firewood on the dented ground. As I rounded the wall separating the two rooms I found the kitchen counter missing vital parts of its construction.
"Well, shit." I exclaimed.
"Yeah. He weren' overly happy 'bout ya little run."
"Still, bit extreme isn't it?"
Sam shrugged, "probly. I'll get me a bran' new cabin tho', one o' them fancy ones wit' them designer furnitures." He rubbed his hands together, "might even get sum o' tha' luxury floorin'," he chuckled and smirked my way, "ya new boyfrien' loaded."
I rolled my eyes and ignored the boyfriend comment.
The man came into view as we ventured further into the devastated kitchen. He stood in human skin at the sink, steel encased in worn jeans and soft cotton. Hands clenched around the porcelain rim. Seven and a half feet of brawn and might, a primitive savage in a mask of modern. Black eyes and matching hair, an alluring picture of dark and light, hard and carved in an idols image; an avenging angel of demonic proportions.
I blew a breath through my cheeks.
And I had thought the Alpha was large...
He looked different to what he had to a twelve year old. I guess that's normal, I had taken no notice of the way he looked so overwhelmed by that radiating presence. His body was tense, a bunching of muscle so compressed it seemed impossible that it could also release. That wolf was riding the man hard.
I took in a breath, I felt like I hadn't had that essential body function since I'd stepped into the cabin, an inhalation that fed the blood. A distracting scent of cinnamon followed the glorious air. I hated that I loved the smell of cinnamon.
My wolf proved once again she lacked that basic survival instinct and threw a rumble of distaste his way. His answering snarl was hiked up a level with a curl of his lip.
She was not impressed. Her stare-down was an issue of intent.
Sam coughed loudly in the thickening room. "Well, let's no' start tha' again. Sit girlie, sure we still have sum mugs left ta make sum coffee, sum whisky go nice wit' it..." he looked at those bulging arms hanging onto the sink. "... A whole lotta whisky."
Sam and I sat on the floor, we turned over a couple of broken chairs and found the seats still somewhat intact – or at least enough to perch on. Carver stayed behind the counter, a barrier between us. If I attempted to be honest with myself I could admit to appreciating his restraint. But honesty was another relativity and depended on willingness to see passed the block of anger, frustration and denial.
"So, when we leavin' Captain?"
His gruff voice was harsh and gravelly, almost painful to hear that deep roughness coming from his throat, "It's Carver, Samuel you know that."
Sam grinned at the man." Yeah tha' I do, but ya keep callin' me Samuel and I got lots o' nicknames fo' ya."
Carver rolled his eyes, seems Sam has that effect on everyone. "The cars should be here in an hour. You should pack, we'll be leaving as soon as they arrive." His black eyes turned to me, "Arya, would you like any help?"
The words seemed forced, as if he was covering his brute with politeness and that roughness slid down my spine. "No, I'm perfectly capable of packing a few pairs of jeans, thank you all the same."
He clenched his jaw until his teeth ground and his lips turned white. I quite enjoyed this forced politeness.
"Do you have enough clothes or do we need to stop on the way?"
If I didn't feel comfortable with being in the same room as him I'm certainly not comfortable accepting clothes from the man. "I'm fine with what I have."
Sam snorted," We stoppin' on tha way. Didn' have much ta start with, now ya got less, you rather run round naked?"
I huffed, "we'll stop on the way."
I fled that kitchen on the pretence of packing as quickly as possible, Sam’s knowing look didn't escape my attention but I threw a small glare at him and left anyway. Just because my wolf accepted him now, didn't mean she wouldn't take a bite out of his leg if he kept meddling.
I grabbed the few jeans I now owned, the shirts and jumpers were added to the small pile....and I was done....so much for taking my time packing.
I sat on the cot I'd spent that first day in, still ridiculously uncomfortable but I ran my hand over the covers anyway. I'd miss that cot. It brought memories of such a different life that I couldn't imagine letting it go so soon. Such safety wrapped in brittle bonds of creaky iron and flat mattresses. Such softness in a blooming affinity with a certain brainless mastiff and the owner that gave me something else to crave; the unexplainable need for another being.
I don't suppose even in my darkest hours I'd ever thought I'd need that. I had been so resolutely alone that not once had I felt that ache that so consumed me now; of someone else taking up residence in your heart.
So caught up in the idea of leaving things I didn't want to leave I missed the quiet presence at the door. His shadow looming over me caught my attention though. He stood in the doorway peering curiously at my expression.
"You'll like the house. It has huge bedrooms, king-size beds, much better than that one."
I shook my head in denial, not everything that glitters is gold. "No. No they won't be. This one's perfect."
He clenched his hands against the door frame but gave a subtle nod. He lo
oked at my small pile of clothes and let out a sigh."Is that everything?"
I locked gazes with those hard black pearls, I found it much easier then what I remembered. "Yes I'm done."
His wolf rumbled in his chest but he shrugged it off and stepped back from the doorway, I gave a relieved breath at the space he gave me and squeezed through, my pile of clothes in my arms between us. I saw Sam waiting in the living room with a large suitcase opened and half full. The dogs sitting and panting at his side keeping a watchful eye on the new member of our little troupe. Remy stood as I came closer and swayed his way towards me. His big head nudged at my legs and I put a hand on that soft ebony coat as he led me back to Sam.
"Put them clothes in tha case girlie, see how much room left to fill."
He wiggled those eyebrows at me. I'm sure he was enjoying how uncomfortable I was at having Carver buy me things.
The man himself swooped in and grabbed the suitcase, the large bag looking like a purse in his massive paws, and led the way towards the oncoming thundering roll of heavy all terrain vehicles. Five of those ATV'S pulled up in a cloud of dust, mud and forest waste clinging to the hood and doors.
Carver stood in front, suitcase in hand. He'd changed at some point, replacing the jeans and t-shirt with black combat trousers and matching skin-tight top. He looked like the military man, strong and hard and a force of nature. I stood behind him with Sam, Remy attached to my side, a little bit of familiar to lean on.
The first truck opened its doors and the driver chucked the keys at Carver before running to the one behind and jumping in the back. As Carver put the bag in and jumped in the front seat, I tried to beat Sam to the rear door.
"Dun' think so girlie, age befo' redheads, you in tha front wit' ya man."
I scowled at that old man. "Fine. But I'm taking the damn dog with me." I grabbed onto Remy and pushed him in front of me onto the bench seat, separating myself from the large man driving. Sam’s bellowing laughter cut off as I slammed the car door.
"Anyone would think, Arya, that you didn't want to sit next to me." Carvers gravelly tone creeped under my skin.
"Hm. Odd that isn't it?"
Chapter 14.
The silence that filled the truck was stifling in its cinnamon entrenched ambience. I refused to slide the window down, he would get no satisfaction from realising his scent was driving me insane. Sam was strangely quiet through the first leg of the drive. I could only imagine he was deviously planning new ways to irritate me.
Remy had failed at guard dog duty. He lasted a whole fifteen minutes panting in Carver's face before turning around and dropping his head in my lap, snoring commenced soon after. Luce was still wide awake, ever watchful, sitting proudly in the back-seat, eyes flickering between Carver, Sam and the long winding Road we were travelling. I had obviously picked the wrong animal.
An hour of driving brought us to a sign proclaiming Birch-grove was three miles away. The small town was a mostly self sustaining village, with farm production including dairy and cattle, locally owned stores and restaurants and decent tourism due to a naturally occurring cave system holding several hot springs within. When we pulled into the town centre, Carver found a parking spot outside a café, near a store that displayed its wares on starkly drawn mannequins.
There were three pubs on this Street alone; apparently alcohol was big business in Birch-grove. I sat in the front seat not moving, wondering if I could get away with just staying in the car and not having to endure the crowded shops.
My eyebrows raised at the wad of cash Carver held out, he locked eyes with me before passing the money to Sam. "Make sure she gets everything she needs Sam, come find me for more if it's not enough."
I shook my head, did he think his money was impressive to me? Sam on the other hand was easily bought and his beady eyes lit up at the roll in his hand."Oh tha'll do jus' fine. Girlie, let's go, got sum bills ta burn."
I rolled my eyes at his glee and stepped down from the high truck. I left the mastiffs inside, one sleeping, one guarding, and followed Sam to the clothes store.
"Ya been shoppin' befo'?"
"With my mother when I was younger."
He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "How long?"
I shrugged, "Around five years."
Sam grabbed my arm and pulled me faster forward."We got lots ta teach ya then." I could see my day was not about to improve any time soon.
The store was quaint, a small independent with details larger chains always seemed to forgo. It was plainly a labour of love for the owner, shown extensively in the care and attention they'd brought to the little displays in every corner. I stood in the centre staring at living dolls in catwalk rip-offs and eager sales women ensnaring oblivious teenage girls.
Sam had taken that money and run with it. He had arms piled high of jeans and tops, and shoes cluttered the floor around him. I spied a few dresses in with his haul and had to smile a little at that, it was optimistic of him to say the least. He'd tried his best to get me interested in the clothes he was buying at the start, he failed miserably. I didn't care about clothes, I didn't care if what I was wearing said the right things about my personality or were fashionable for a girl my age. It rated not once on my internal scale of importance, but I let him have his fun, I figured I owed him a little for having to relocate so quickly.
I waited outside while Sam paid for the last items, I let him carry the bags as he was having so much fun at my expense. I lent against the wall to the side of the shop, I could see the truck parked across the street and that Carver was missing from the front seat. I had a thought rush quickly through my head, how far would I get if I just left? If I left Sam and those dogs and especially that captain. I think if I shifted I could definitely outrun them, maybe not forever but I'd get a good head start.
I could have done it; left and never looked back, if it was just Carver. But now I think I'm stuck. Tied together to three other heartbeats that have aligned with my own. Pumping and pulsing as one and drowning out that inside noise, the one that challenges my views and questions my worth. No, I don't think I can leave them.
Stood in the afternoon sun I closed my eyes to the brightness, the days may be colder but that burning light was just as piercing. I concentrated my senses to focus only on hearing. I filtered out footsteps and rustling, car engines and radios, talking and laughing. Eventually I found that gravelly voice, across the road in the café, the front window hidden by the huge truck. I heard the steam from the coffee machine, the clinking of cups and scraping of chairs, a background noise for the conversation he was having with one of his guards.
"I don't know she hardly talks."
"Well, what did the old man say?"
"Just not to touch her and go slowly, he said it was her story to tell."
I heard that rough voice sigh a little,
"Honestly I don't think I want to know, my wolf is already pushing me because hers is so angry. He thinks she's been hurt, he wants to cause damage just on his suspicions."
"Well if I were you I'd listen to Sam, he's a smart man, just let her have her space for now."
So concentrated on their conversation I was shocked out of my eavesdropping by the shove to my side. I lost my breath on the way down, the concrete pavement an unforgiving landing. I shook my head to clear the fog left over and reached into my pocket. Words were buzzing around my head, an annoyance I wasn't paying attention to. Bright eyes shone in my mind, catching the glint off the sun, watching and waiting and sharpening her claws.
I flicked a glance up at a man and curled my lip. I saw black hair streaked with grey, broad shoulders on a mature frame and a slight paunch in his mid section. He took a step closer and bent down, shiny leather shoes caught my attention.
Those fucking shoes.
A reach of his arm and he almost touched me, that dirty hand very nearly touching my uncovered arm.
The knife followed my hand out of my pocket and fit so perfectly inside my palm. I rubbed the
steel over my skin and it cut off the snarl bubbling in my chest; my wolf's approval of my actions. He peered curiously at me, not quite understanding the object I'd retrieved. I threw my hand out carelessly, a swipe so similar to my wolfs that she enjoyed the kindred motion. I felt nothing when the knife slid through his dirty shirt, no resistance, no effort on my part. Such beauty in that steels creation.
A thin red line appeared on his shirt, his gasping breaths filled my ears. The thin line grew, tiny rivulets running down at gravities pull. He fell to the floor moaning softly at the landing. I sneered at the pathetic figure he cut on the ground, it wasn't even that deep.
I heard Sam walking towards me, that soft tread so familiar now. The drop of bags behind startled me away from the fallen. I looked back at the man on the ground and furrowed my brow. The dark hair had been replaced by blonde, the paunch no longer visible.
The man on the ground, the one I had stabbed, was a complete stranger.
"Girlie, whys tha' man bleedin' at ya feet?"
I lifted my shoulders in a shrug, "I'm not sure, I think maybe he walked into me."
"Oh. Well tha' seem perfectly reasonable then."
I huffed,"Okay I may have overreacted just a little."
Sam moved to stand at my side and peered down at the moaning man, "He goin' ta live?"
"Yes I believe so, I don't think it was that deep just a lot of blood."
Sam looked around, the area we were standing had cover provided by several cars parked up. "Uhuh, well maybe we keep this our little secret, dun need no Captain knowin' you a little crazy."
I squinted at him," Thanks, I think."
His permanent grin widened a little. "Can' take ya anywhere huh?"
I snorted at him. "I'll try and refrain from stabbing anyone else in public."
Sam chuckled,"Tha's all I askin' girlie, only got so many ditches ta bury them bodies."
My lips twitched while I tried to keep a straight face. Sam picked up the bags, pulled a slim phone out of his pocket and proceeded to phone an accident through to the ambulance service.