Finding My Pack

by Lane Whitt

  "Thought you might want this." He says while waving around a hairbrush

  .

  "Oh, thanks." I take the brush and move to sit on the bed. The boy takes a seat on a chair in the corner that I noticed earlier. I pull my ratted hair over my shoulder and start brushing out the ends.

  “I’m Logan. Feeling better after your shower, Kitten?" He asks as he watches me from across the room.

  "I'm okay, just a bit tired. Do you live here too?" I ask.

  Logan nods his head. "We all do, although Jace only stays here part-time." He says with a smirk.

  I try to think if I've met Jace yet while still trying to de-tangle my hair. I don't think I have. My arms are getting tired already, it hurts to lift them above my head like this.

  "I don't think I've met him. How many of you are there? I mean...that live here?" I blush slightly as I wonder if that was rude to ask.

  He keeps his eyes on my hands that are now shaking with the effort to keep going. "There are seven of us. Kellan, Finn, Tristan, Ash, Reed, Jace and me. Eight if you include Remy."

  Wow, that's a heck of a lot of boys. They all live in one house together? Why? And what does he mean by if you include Remy?

  "Is this a dorm or something? Are you students?" I ask.

  I hit another snag in my hair and drop my hand. I give up, setting the brush down. Logan looks fidgety for a moment then sighs and stands, coming over to me. He takes my hand, pulling me up and gently and snags the brush from the bed.

  "Come on", he tells me as he pulls me back to the bathroom. I follow along, curious as to what he's doing. He stops me in front of the toilet, putting the lid down.

  "Sit", he orders. I do as he says. "Turn for me, just to the side a bit." I do and he walks to the sink, grabbing one of the mystery bottles. He squirts some white stuff in his hands, rubbing them together. Walking back to me he rubs the stuff over my hair, starting at the top and moving down to the ends.

  "What is that stuff?" I ask him.

  .

  "Just some leave-in conditioner. I only put a little in, it'll help to untangle your hair and repair some of the damage. I'll add more once I get it brushed out."

  At that, he starts brushing my hair. It's weird. I've never had anyone brush my hair for me. He's a lot gentler than I usually am. I like this. Fifteen minutes later he's done and my hair looks the length it actually is. All ratted out you'd never know it hangs down to my waist.

  Logan steps back and holds his hand out to me. I put my hand in his and he helps me up, pulling me over to the sink with him. He starts humming as he uses more conditioner stuff then opens a drawer, pulling out a hair-dryer. I just blink at him through the mirror the whole time. Is this normal? Is this what normal people do? He acts like it is, so I just go with it. He proceeds to dry and play with my hair for what seems like forever. My legs start shaking again after standing for so long. Logan notices and sighs.

  "Well, I guess I'm done playing...for now." He grins at me and I have to blink several times. God he's beautiful. He looks like a devilish angel smiling like that. Someone raps on the door with their knuckles and Kellan pokes his head around the door.

  "I wondered what took you so long Logan; you were just supposed to drop the brush off. Guess I should have known better." Kellan says with a chuckle. "Bring Kitten downstairs, I need to feed my patient. She hasn't eaten for days." He drawls out dramatically.

  Kellan walks out and my eyes connect with Logan in the mirror. He grins at me. "Time to meet the rest of the crew." He takes my hand, interlocking our fingers, it shocks me but Logan acts like it’s okay, so once again, I just go with it.

  Logan leads me down a long hallway with several closed doors on either side. I wonder what's in them. More bedrooms? We come upon a staircase (if you can call it that). It's wide and has an intricate hand-carved banister. There's a loft-like area then, on the other side, is an exact replica of the staircase in front of me. So I guess it's a grand entrance... thing?

  We move down the stairs slowly. Logan looking back every few steps. Probably to make sure I don't fall down since my tired body is still shaking. We finally arrive at the bottom. How many steps do you really need for Christ's sake? Logan tugs me along while I try to look into the rooms we pass. I just catch glimpses here and there. From what that I have seen so far, these people are pretty well off. I feel out of place. Here I am, walking beside the most beautiful creature I have ever seen, barefoot, wearing someone else's clothes, looking every bit the street rat that I am. I have never felt so much like unwanted trash in my life, and that's saying something. I was born trash. Literally, I was found in a dumpster with my umbilical cord still attached.

  As we make our way down a hallway I hear voices. Lots of voices. I stop, making Logan stop too. He looks at me with a curious expression on his face. I bite my lip running my tongue over the split in the middle. I look around, wondering where the front door is. Maybe I should go now?

  "Hey, what's wrong?" Logan asks me.

  "Um...maybe I should leave." I reply.

  He bends down catching my eyes with his amazing blue ones. "It'll be okay, no one is going to hurt you Kitten, we're just having breakfast."

  I nod and he continues to pull me toward the voices. A little faster now though, like if he doesn't get me there quickly I'm going to turn and run. It's like he knows me because that's exactly what I feel like doing.

  We round a corner and enter the kitchen. Or at least I think it's a kitchen. The space is huge. Stainless steel is everywhere, including both refrigerators and a flat cooktop that rivals the one in the diner I work at. It looks very…clean and clinical. It all seems a bit much to me but I guess it would have to be big to accommodate the seven or eight people who live here. If it weren't for the mouthwatering smells wafting to my nose, I would never enter.

  Once they see us, all eyes turn in our direction, conversations ceasing. I maneuver my way behind Logan to hide, but he tugs my hand, forcing me to stand beside him again. I look up and see him looking down at me in amusement. I glare back at him and pull my hand out of his. The traitor, I thought we were friends now.

  He chuckles lightly as he guides me to sit at the end of a long kitchen island surrounded by tall stools in matching stainless steel. Everyone else is already seated there. I keep my eyes focused on Kellan. I already know him and even though he was confusing, he was nice to me. I don't want to look at the rest of the guys; it will only make me nervous.

  "I'll make you a plate, just sit tight". Logan tells me while walking over to a long counter where there are several platters piled high with food.

  "I already made her a plate, on the end there". Kellan calls out, pointing. I glance up at him and give him a small smile in thanks.

  Kellan is seated directly across from me, with the Giant…Ash? Next to him. When my eyes meet his he gives me a short nod. I nod back and look away quickly. He's even more intimidating in the daylight. His inky black hair hangs in his eyes, but I can still see that they are dark, just like the rest of him. Ash has tanned skin and is wearing a dark grey t-shirt over his massively built frame.

  I feel the air shift beside me and I look over, straight into chocolaty brown eyes. I remember those eyes from before; Kellan had said his name is Tristan. His sand-colored hair is styled in a messy way, kind of shaggy. I want to reach out and brush the strand that falls in his eyes away. What an odd thought. I look at what he's wearing and blush deeply. He has on a red shirt that looks almost exactly like the one I'm wearing. So, I have this guy’s shirt, slept in his bed, and showered in his bathroom where I used his razor. Oh God, I'm such a bum. I look down at the table, embarrassment washing over me.

  Logan comes back with a large plate in his hand and sets it down in front of me before taking a seat beside Ash. I stare at the plate of food. Is this all for me? There's so much of it. On the plate is a small pancake with a strawberry on top, an egg, sausage links, a couple strips of bacon and a biscuit. Is this what they eat every morning? No won
der they are all so big and built.

  Tristan nudges me with his shoulder. "Hey, what's the matter? I can make you something else if you'd like." He says with a frown on his handsome face. He must be crazy or something. Who wouldn't like this?

  "Oh. No, that's not it." I shake my head quickly, biting my lip.

  "Then what is it?" Tristan replies in a confused tone.

  I take in a breath, releasing it quickly. "What exactly do I have to do for you after I eat this?"

  I meet his eyes, my stomach in knots. If it's bad then I'm out of here. People don't just give food away. They obviously want something from me. The taking care of me, the shower and the clothes, now with the food...

  Tristan frowns before his eyes widen and he inhales sharply. I hear a fork clatter against a plate and someone starts choking. I look around and see everyone looking at me. Tristan shifts uncomfortably on his seat.

  "Uh, Kitten, you don't have to do anything. You're hungry, we have food. Just eat." He says with a sad look on his face, though I don’t know why. I don't know if I should trust him but, not being one to talk myself out of a good meal, I look back to the pile of food in front of me.

  "Oh shit, I forgot your fork, Sweetie. Hold on a sec." Kellan says, popping up from his seat.

  "And a drink, I'll get her some juice", says one of the boys I still don't know with blonde hair and a white shirt.

  Ash slides a napkin at me across the table. I nod at him again. I like that he gets my simple form of communication. Tristan scoots the butter and syrup in front of my plate. The way they move together feels a bit odd. I'm starting to feel a tad overwhelmed here, I'm not used to this kind of attention. They are staring again. Do they think I don't know how to use a fork or something?

  I pick up the strawberry, take a bite and let the most delicious flavor roam over my tongue. I have no idea what happens after that. One minute there is a plate full of food in front of me, the next...well…there's not. Confused, I glance at Tristan. His face is a mix of shock, amusement, horror and pride all at once. It's then I realize that my cheeks are puffed out, full of food like a chipmunks. I blush and look down, chewing the massive amount of food still in my mouth. I think it's the pancake but I can't be sure. How embarrassing to have wolfed down my food like a rabid animal in front of these beautiful boys.

  "Do you want more?" Tristan asks quietly in that kind voice of his.

  "No, thank you". I take a sip of my orange juice to wash the food down.

  I keep my eyes on the table in front of me while the guys finish eating their breakfast like civilized people do. I listen as they chat casually with each other, talking about things they did yesterday and plans for today, about nothing and everything really. I don't join in with them even as a few of them try to include me. I don't fit in here with this group of friends; I don’t know what I would say to any of them.

  I hear a door slam from somewhere in the house before a loud voice calls out. Someone on the other side of Tristan calls back that we're in the kitchen. Conversation halts as we wait for the newcomer.

  "What the fuck is going on? Ten messages! Did someone fucking die?" The voice booms as a man...definitely not a boy...walks into the kitchen.

  His gray eyes lock onto me instantly. He stops and leans against the frame. He stares at me and I stare back. I shrink into myself and unknowingly lean towards Tristan. I don't realize I'm shaking until he puts an arm around my waist so my back is to his front. This guy is scary as all get out, and he looks angry.

  I feel Tristan's lips at my ear as he whispers. "It's alright Kitten, I promise that no one here will hurt you." I feel comforted by his words and his voice, but I still won't look away from the man.

  He's sizing me up, I can feel it. I feel like he can see right through me and the thought makes me shiver. Ash stands, making his way over the man with the piercing eyes and copper colored hair. He walks out of the kitchen with the man behind him. I can hear their equally gruff voices but can't make out what they are saying.

  I look over my shoulder at Tristan and he removes his arm, turning to look at the rest of the guys at the table. They meet each other’s eyes, communicating without saying a word. Boys are weird. I feel left out of the weird eye talk. I think about crossing mine just to be included, wondering what message I’d be sending.

  Kellan catches my eye and he gives me a reassuring smile. "So Kitten, you've met me, Tristan, Logan and Ash, and you've just met Remy. This here is Reed”. He says, pointing at the lanky blond guy with the white shirt on the other side of Tristan.

  Reed grins and waves his fingers in greeting. He has a really nice smile. It looks genuine, not forced. With his blond hair and pale skin he looks more like me and less like the others I’ve met. I like his eyes too, with flecks of blue, green and gold they might be the most interesting color of hazel I've ever seen.

  Kellan points further down the table. "That handsome lad there is Finn, my twin brother." Finn lifts his hand a bit and his cheeks tint pink as he mouths the word 'hi'. Maybe he said it out loud and I just didn't hear him. He's a carbon copy of Kellan. Jet black hair, high cheek bones, full pouty lips and green eyes. Although Kellan's look like grass and Finn's look more like a mint green. Maybe this is a house for models? I’ve never really paid attention to guys or dwelled on their attractiveness but something tells me the guys in this house are above average in that respect.

  I frown at that thought. All these beautiful boys live here in this house and I…I just don't belong here. They are all friends and I'm just some girl they found. They communicate without words and move around each other with ease and I just sit here awkwardly. I should really leave now, get out of their way so they can go about their day. They've been so nice and I hate the thought of leaving but I’ve done nothing to deserve their kindness and the guilt of not being able to repay them is eating me up inside.

  I stand up, holding my hand out to Tristan to shake. "It was really nice meeting all of you. Thank you so much...for everything. I'll try to return the clothes when I get a chance." Tristan doesn't take my hand, he just stares at me. Alright then. I turn and head for the door.

  Long fingers gently encircle my wrist and keep me in place. I look over my shoulder at Tristan. "Where are you going Kitten?" He questions.

  I open my mouth to respond then stop. I don't have an answer. I can't go back home to the warehouse. If the man that attacked me lived then he could be waiting for me. If he didn't live...well then I guess that would make me a murderer. Oh my God! I'm probably a murderer!

  I pull my arm away from Tristan who now looks very concerned. My breath is coming in short spurts and my heart rate has accelerated. I don't have a place to go. All my stuff is in the warehouse. It's not much but it's all I had. I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm a killer. These boys are being nice to a killer. They invited a murderer into their home and they don't even know it!

  I turn and run, making my way down the hall as fast as I can. My focus is on the double doors straight ahead of me. I have to get out of here. The gray-eyed man steps into the hallway from a room on the right. Before I can even think the word stop, I crash into him. Hard. The result is the same as a fly against a windshield. He doesn't move an inch as I go splat. I bounce off of his brick-like chest and land sprawled on the floor at his feet.

  Now I don't know if I can't breathe because I'm having a panic attack, because of the pain from my collision and fall, or because I was running. Either way, my lungs feel like someone’s squeezing them and I can't get enough oxygen. As I'm staring at the ceiling, gasping for air, a face looms in front of me. It's Kellan. Or maybe Finn? No, grass green eyes look down at me. It's Kellan. His pouty lips are moving but I can't hear him over the sound of blood rushing in my ears. My eyes flick back and forth from his mouth to his eyes. He wants me to do something. But what?

  I suck in as much air as I can, holding my breath. Kellan shakes his head no. I let the air out of my lungs and start hyperventilating again, the edges of my visio
n start to go black. I focus on his face, trying to understand what he wants. He looks so calm and collected. I want to be calm and collected too. His nose if flaring out like he is trying to smell something in the air, then his sweet breath blows in my face from his open lips. He repeats that a few times, I try to mimic him, thinking he is showing me what to do. I inhale through my nose and exhale through my mouth. Kellan smiles and nods his head yes. It takes a few times before I feel like I can get a decent amount of air. Kellan stays with me, and I'm grateful. I focus on him, soaking up his calm.

  I don't know how long we stay that way. Looking into each other’s eyes, breathing in together, exhaling at the same time, our breath mixing. Eventually I feel as though I can breathe normally. Kellan runs his fingers through my hair, tucking the long strands behind my ear. I watch as he stands, noticing that all seven of them are standing around us. I put both hands over my face and groan. How many times can a girl embarrass herself in one morning?

  Strong hands wrap around my wrists and start to pull me up. Once I'm standing I feel a bit dizzy and start to sway. A large hand cups my head as an arm snakes around my waist and I'm pulled into a hard chest. After the dizzy spell passes I realize how awkward a position I'm in. My eyes travel up the body that I'm pressed into and a shocked gasp escapes my lips. It's that man. Remy. He sees my reaction and slowly releases me. I take a step back and look at the floor.