Powerless

by Catherine Johnson

  I know I locked it when I came in, but I check it again, for my own peace of mind as much as Donna’s.

  “It’s definitely locked.”

  “Good. Keep it that way. If anyone starts knocking on it, phone us.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice. I will.”

  “Good girl. Do your best to get some sleep if you can. I’ll text you tomorrow morning.”

  We wish each other good night and hang up. Paranoia compels me to check that all my windows are locked too, even though my balcony is a couple of storeys from the ground. I leave the curtains open so that I’ll be able to see immediately if anyone tries to get onto the balcony. I badly want to phone Callum, if nothing else, I want to be reassured solely by the sound of his voice, but I know he’ll hear my nervousness. I know he’s going to be pissed off in a big way when he finds out that we kept all this from him; but ultimately I agree with Michael. I want Callum’s mind on his task, and if he’s not entirely comfortable with the pack that he’s with, I don’t want to be the reason that he’s distracted.

  I don’t bother to undress before I lie down to try and sleep. It’ll be another night that I sleep with my shoes on, but if someone does try to get in through the windows, or tries anything at all, I want to be ready. I don’t want to be exposed, I want to be prepared.

  Chapter Twenty

  That’s the second night that I’ve dreamt of her. At this rate I’m goin’ tae look like Death himself from the lack o’ sleep. The dreams start off well enough, after our little conversation on Wednesday and that picture she sent me. She’s laid out on her bed; the room’s dark except for the moonlight comin’ in from the uncovered window. Her skin’s always glowin’, puttin’ the white covers beneath her tae shame. She’s only wearin’ lace, and I know she’s waitin’ on me. Then the room changes, lengthens, narrows. Both her and her bed are movin’ away from me, they keep goin’ until I cannae hardly see them. The room becomes a corridor and I’m runnin’ down it, tryin’ tae reach her. No matter how fast or how long I run, I never get to the end. I wake up soaked in sweat and exhausted.

  I doona know what the dreams mean, if anythin’. There’s a sense of unease that’s sticks with me that fuels them. It’s borne of bein’ apart from her, apart from what I consider to be ma pack. It doesnae sit well with me that I cannae speak tae her about what I’ve found out so far, but I need tae find everythin’. I’m no’ happy tae be in a city with a pack that I’m no’ certain of, even though Aidan’s been welcomin’ enough.

  I check the photo that she sent me often. I’m no’ just pervin’ at the lass, although there is that, it’s the only picture I have o’ her. Yesterday I was sat in a café watchin’ the world go by and tryin’ tae read a newspaper when I sent her a text tae see how she was keepin’. The conversation that followed had me needin’ tae head back to my room sharpish. It wasnae helped by me thinkin’ o’ her at work, dressed as she’d described the other night.

  Sat there with all those ignorant people wanderin’ past, I’d found maself hard as iron again, and it could no’ be tamed by thinkin’ o’ other things. Rememberin’ strokin’ maself tae the sound o’ her voice the night before just made it worse. By the gods that was intense. I’d no’ even so much as jacked off the entire time I was behind bars. There’s no’ much tae stimulate the urge in jail full o’ sweaty arse fellas, and there’s no privacy at all. When you first go in, there’s always those that try tae let you know they’re the big dogs, that try tae stamp their authority on you. I had no problem puttin’ them in their place, even though I couldnae show ‘em just how much o’ a bigger dog I was. The rest stayed away after seein’ how I handled maself, except for a few cocky newcomers now and then; but catchin’ you in the act like that says somethin’ about you, says you’re available, open tae offers if nothin’ else.

  O’ course most fellas find the first available hole as soon as they get out, but the thought o’ any other woman is like ashes tae me. I need the body that goes with the scent that seeped intae ma brain that first night. What she said tae me, that she needed me over her, in her; thinkin’ about those slim fingers o’ hers in that wet heat where I want ma cock tae be, the brazen picture she sent me, makes me lose control. Comin’ intae ma own hand is no’ enough, it’s nowhere near enough. It just makes the needin’ o’ her worse.

  Aidan called me in the late afternoon tae let me know that everythin’ was set for our visit tae Cameron today. I’m nervous, no’ o’ the man, but o’ what I’ll see. It was no easy thing tae watch William fade tae a shadow o’ himself when he started goin’ downhill. The man I remember Cameron bein’ was strong and vital, a force o’ nature carved from the very rocks o’ Ireland themselves. I doona relish the thought o’ seein’ the man diminished, a shadow o’ himself.

  Aidan is no’ late when he arrives, I meet him out on the street tae save time. We drive out tae the suburbs, the property we park outside is a red brick semi-detached house. We park on the street by the privet hedge that’s been clipped into a sharp-edged neat shape. There’s an empty driveway but Aidan does no’ make use of it. There’s a small front garden in between the hedge and the house. We ring the doorbell, waitin’ in the arched porch that’s part of the fabric o’ the house rather than an addition. We can hear movement behind the door and soon enough it’s opened by a woman who looks tae be in her fifties. The blonde hair piled on her head owes more tae a bottle now than it ever did tae any natural colouring. If the cigarette in her hand did no’ give it away, the odour o’ stale smoke released by the open door would have told me there’s at least one full time smoker in this house. Aidan introduces me.

  “Afternoon Maeve. Thank ye for stoppin’ in for us. This is Callum, from the Manchester pack.”

  “Please to meet ye, Callum.” I shake the hand that she extends. It’s tipped with long pink nails, the same sickly sugary colour that’s on her lips.

  “Pleased tae meet you too, Maeve.”

  “Is Cameron in a fit state for visitors, darlin’?”

  “Aye, he is. He’s doin’ well today. He wasn’t so well yesterday. His good days are gettin’ further apart.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Aidan says honestly as Maeve steps back tae let us intae the hallway behind the door.

  “He’s in the dinin’ room, ye know ye way. Will ye be wantin’ a brew?”

  “No thank ye, I don’t think we’ll be long.” Aidan assures her.

  “Through ye go then.” She waves us down the hallway. I can hear the chimes and canned laughter from a TV game show comin’ from behind the doorway that she disappears through.

  We continue down to the door at the end. Aidan opens it and we step intae the dining room o’ the house. There’s a set o’ patio windows that lead out intae the back garden. The garden’s fenced but there are trees beyond that. Several bird tables are set up on the lawn. There’s a large dark wood table in the middle o’ the room, with six chairs around it, all done up in cream leather. One o’ the chairs is occupied by a man I recognise.

  I’m gladdened tae see that most o’ my fears are unfounded. Cameron has aged, there’s no doubt about that, but he’s no’ the weak lookin’ thing I was feared I’d find. He’s always been a big fella, well over six foot and barrel-chested. Big arms with hands that look like bloody shovels and deliver a punch like a sledge hammer. There’s more grey than red in his hair now. It’s longer than it was, but it’s combed neatly back behind his ears. He’s a beard now that’s mostly grey. If he’s no’ all there now, then the people o’ this house are takin’ good care o’ him. He’s dressed neatly in a shirt and cords. It lightens my heart tae see that he’s no’ bein’ mistreated or ignored. He’s sat on one o’ the chairs directly in front o’ the windows and seems tae be watchin’ the bird tables for signs o’ any little feathered visitors.

  “Cameron. It’s Aidan. I’ve brought an old friend to see ye fella.”

  Cameron turns and I see the only sign that his mind is givin’ out on him. His eye
s, that used to be so green and sharp, that used tae seem tae see the truth o’ your very soul, seem dimmer now, a little clouded. His brows draw down as he stares at me and I realise he’s strugglin’ tae recognise me. Aidan sees it as well.

  “It’s Callum, from the Manchester pack. Maeve told ye he was comin’.”

  “Oh aye. Cameron’s face brightens in recognition. I remember ye lad. A bright spark if ever there was one. Come and have a sit. Has Maeve offered ye anythin’ boys?”

  “She has, we’re fine Cameron. I’m sorry it’s to be a quick visit, but Callum here’s had some difficulty that he needs to speak to ye about.”

  “What’s ye problem lad?”

  “It’s good tae see you Cameron, it’s been some years. I think you heard that I’ve been away for a while. I took the fall for somethin’ that wasnae ma fault.”

  “Aye I heard about that sorry case lad. Ye’ve got to be controllin’ yeself better than that.”

  “Cameron, it wasnae me that attacked the girl. I think you know that.”

  He looks confused for a second and I worry that he’s no’ goin’ tae be able tae tell us what we need tae know.

  “It wasn’t lad? Well if not ye who was it then? I hope ye put the animal down. Bring us all down to have a rash eejit like that on the streets.”

  “I couldnae. I didnae have time. I had tae rely on a promise that someone gave me tae take care o’ it. But they didnae keep their promise and I need tae know why.”

  “What? One o’ the pack not keepin’ a promise to their Alpha! Ye should knock that fella right into line lad.”

  “Aye, I intend tae, but I could do with knowin’ why he acted as he did before I do, and he’ll no’ tell me if I ask him maself.”

  “Who is it lad? How can I help you with this? Anythin’ I can do to keep such idiocy out of the blood.”

  “Cameron. It was Bryn that attacked the wee lass. It was Daniel that promised tae take care o’ him and didnae.”

  Cameron’s brow draws in again, but his expression is more o’ disbelief than confusion. He turns to look out o’ the window again and I’m hopin’ he doesn’t decide tae kick us out.

  “Cameron.” Aidan says quietly. “I’ve told Callum about Bryn bein’ Daniel’s son. He knows that’s why Daniel couldn’t keep his promise. He needs to know why ye wanted Bryn kept whole when he was goin’ to meet his end at the claws of the London pack.”

  Cameron stares out o’ the window a long time. I wonder if he’s even in the room with us anymore. Maybe this topic is too much for an increasingly fragile mind. Eventually though, he turns and looks at Aidan directly.

  “I hear yer doin’ a grand job with the pack, lad. I knew ye would. Ye always were the perfect one to carry on after I couldn’t keep up.”

  “Thank you Cameron.” We wait until he’s ready to talk some more.

  “Did ye know lad, that I was mated once upon a time?”

  I know the surprise is writ large on both our faces. It’s Aidan that answers. “No Cam, I didn’t.”

  “Aye, was before yer time lad. She died young. I knew the moment I laid eyes on her that she was somethin’ special to me.”

  “Was she somethin’ to do with Bryn?” I let Aidan ask.

  “Yes lad, she was his grandmother.”

  Never mind surprise. I think both our jaws just hit the table. I know I sound like the village idiot when I stutter, “But Bryn is Daniel’s son?”

  Cameron turns his eyes on me.

  “Aye lad, and Daniel is my son. Born of a mated pair he was, a pure breed. His ma died not long after his first birthday.” Cameron turns back to the window and speaks to the empty glass.

  “We’d been drivin’ down to the south, headin’ to Cork for a summer holiday... ’54 I think. We’d borrowed a car from a friend. Thought we were the mutt’s nuts, we did. We were headin’ down one of those country lanes, the kind where ye can’t see round the corners and there isn’t a straight line for miles.”

  He tails off again. The three o’ us watch as some sort o’ small bird lands on one o’ the bird tables. It has a few nibbles at somethin’ and then flits off. Cameron is still silent, lost in his memories. When he speaks again, his voice is quiet enough that I’m glad ma hearin’ is no’ human.

  “A farmer, who’d spent his afternoon in the pub, drove his tractor into us head on, there was nothin’ to keep us in our seats, there were no seatbelts then. That bastard died outright, thrown from his cab into a tree. Daniel was on his mother’s knee, that’s what saved him. She shielded him with her body, but her head hit the dashboard, the impact snapped her neck. There was nothin’ I could do.”

  “So that’s why you interceded on Bryn’s behalf with Cooper in London?”

  “Aye lad. Bryn was never meant to be a wolf. Should never have been, but the boy never could stay out of trouble. When he struggled to settle here, I thought London might be the place for him, but when he continued to misbehave there too.... I didn’t know what to do for the best, but I couldn’t just let them kill him, despite what they said he’d done.”

  It’s Aidan that asks the next question I want answered. “Had he been doin’ that here in Belfast?”

  Cameron looks down at the table. The guilt is written all over his face and that’s all the answer we need. He’ll no’ condemn his grandson outright, but he knows damn well what he is.

  “Cameron, you know I cannae let him continue.” I say as gently as I can.

  When he looks at me, there’s somethin’ o’ the man I knew in those green eyes.

  “Aye lad, I know. And I know ye’ll be merciful. Ye’ll be quick.”

  “Aye I will, Cameron. Thank you, thank you for tellin’ us this.”

  His sigh is heavy. “Don’t thank me, lad. I’m not so proud of what’s become of my boys.”

  Aidan stands and I follow his lead.

  “Thank you for talkin’ to us, Cameron. Will we be seein’ ye with the pack tomorrow night?”

  “Ye will. I’ll be at the back, as usual.” There’s somethin’ o’ bitterness in his tone. He may not be this lucid every day but he’s obviously no’ forgotten what he once was.

  We take our leave o’ Cameron and Maeve. They’ll continue with their afternoon routine as if we were never there, I suppose. Aidan and I are both quiet for a while on the drive back tae the centre o’ the city, both mulling over what we’ve been told. It’s Aidan who breaks the silence first.

  “Callum, I’d like to invite ye to run with us tomorrow. I know ye’ll be wantin’ to get back to yer lass, tae the pack; but I think it’d do ye some good to spend the moon with us. Ye need to wrap yer head around all of this, and I don’t think headin’ straight back into the thick of it with Daniel and Bryn is the way to go. It’ll give ye the chance to speak to some of our mated couples. Ye’ll be able to find out if there’s a way to tell if yer young lass is truly yers or not. But more than that, yer about put down two blood members of our pack, one of them a born wolf. It may not be common knowledge in the pack now, but if it comes out, it’d be better if they knew ye; that they’d seen that ye were whole in body and spirit and not actin’ out of rage or crazy.”

  I cannae fault any o’ the reasons he’s just given. As much as I’m longin’ for ma pack, as much as I miss the wee beauty that’s waitin’ for me, Aidan is right. It’s no’ just going tae be Bryn and Daniel I have tae keep ma pack safe from if I doona handle things the right way. I cannae tell any o’ them, Michael, Donna, Becca, what I’ve learnt over the phone, it’s no’ the right conversation for that. My wee, pale wolf is no’ goin’ tae be happy with me. I’m just goin’ tae have tae make it up tae her when I get back. That’s a challenge I am lookin’ forward tae.

  Chapter Twenty One

  “Sunday?”

  “Aye, sweetheart, I’ll be back Sunday. There’s still some information I need from the pack, and I need tae connect with them again properly. You’ll understand when I tell you.”

  “You can’t tell me now?”
>
  “No lass, it’s no’ somethin’ I’m goin’ tae explain over the phone. Besides, it’ll go easier if I can tell the three o’ you together.”

  If I’m honest, I’m a little hurt that he doesn’t feel he can tell me more about his reasons for staying in Ireland. I’d thought... I don’t know what I’d thought. I’ve been daydreaming my way into something I suppose.

  “Becca? Doona be angry with me, lass. I will explain everythin’ when I get back.”

  “No, it’s okay, really, it’s fine, it’s just that....”

  I can’t tell him. I can’t tell him that we need him tomorrow. He said that he needs more information from the Belfast pack. If I told him that Bryn had attacked Donna and been harassing me, he’d come home and he obviously needs to be there. The part of me that clenches at the mere sound of his voice, that melted and burned at his words on Wednesday night, that yearns to be sliding against him, skin against skin; that part wants him to come back regardless. The part of me that is hurt he won’t confide in me is whispering evilness, speculating about whether he would come, whether he cares that much. I realise I’m slouching with disappointment. I straighten my spine and lift my chin, it doesn’t matter that no one is here to see me. We’ll handle this; the three of us will manage without him. I can be strong on my own, without Callum, I need to remember that.