Phillipe pulled out his phone and dialed Patrick’s number for the first time in weeks.
“The fuck you want? You realize what fucking time it is?”
“Oh stop swearing at me already. I’ve got nothing but good news.”
There was silence on the other end but the call hadn’t disconnected so Phillipe took a deep breath and went on.
“It’s over,” he said
“What’s over?”
“Me and Brigid. She was at my place the other day, she was pretty mad at me. I don’t think I can make it right with her. I’m not sure she wants me to try.”
More silence and then, “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t want you guys dating in the first place but getting dumped? I-”
“Look, I get it. No problem, okay?”
“Okay. But that’s not exactly the greatest news.”
“I thought you’d be ecstatic, but it gets better. Got us a job lined up for next week. Pay is through the roof for a few hours of work. We can be in Montana for the next full moon.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah.”
“What about Brigid? The money?”
“I’ll have to sell some furniture, maybe the TV, but we can do it, and we can do it now if that’s what you want.”
“Look man, that night I called you, I was drunk out of my mind. Partly because of you and Brigid, sure, but we had a pack meeting that night.”
“I remember.”
“Buddy, it’s getting bad. I mean, Louis just reamed out Alan, Mack, and his buddies for harassment of a juvenile and I’m still the failure. I make enough money to live on and someone has to stock the damn shelves, don’t they?”
“I guard a door for a living,” Phillipe said. “I get it. I cut my family out, too.”
“I thought Remy wouldn’t let you.”
“He was disappointed, but he backed me.”
“At least you’ve got a good man watching out for you. You sure you want to take a chance with a new clan chief?”
“They just had a big chief meeting a few months back. Remy assures me I’ll be fine in Montana.”
“I’ll be better off anywhere, so let’s do this.”
“Honey, is everything all right? You’re looking so pale lately.”
Brigid smiled at her mother. “Just spending too much time studying, I guess.”
“Are you sure? I know things have been tight since your father’s insurance changed. Are you doing okay? I mean, your father and I don’t have a lot to spare but you haven’t asked for money once and I know...”
“It’s fine, Mom. Really. I’m making it work. You already let me live here rent free and while I may not eat as much as Patrick, I can’t be cheap to feed.”
“You’re our daughter. We’re not going to start counting pennies or calories.”
“I know. And I appreciate it. I’m making it work.”
“Okay.”
“I’ve got more math homework,” she said and retreated to her room. Her mother was right, of course. She did look pale. She was losing weight too and she didn’t have as much energy. Getting out of bed to go to school each day was getting harder and harder to do. And the emotional strain of her fight with Patrick and then another fight with Phillipe didn’t help.
She pulled open her drawer. She had about half a dozen needles in their sealed packages left. What she didn’t have was the medicine to put in them. She closed the drawer again and tried to focus on her math homework. She had a few days yet to figure something out. Something will come up. Something will fall into place. I can go another day or two.
Katherine was humming as she cooked. Her husband was due home any minute, her daughters were doing their own thing in their own spaces, her son had taken an extra job for the evening. Finally showing some initiative, she thought, smiling. Even if it does mean he’ll miss the meeting tonight.
She sliced the roast, then scooped the potatoes out of the slow cooker. She emptied the juices into a pan and started on the gravy.
Christopher came in and kissed her cheek. “I got the milk. I feel like I’m forgetting something, though.”
“No, just the milk. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Dinner smells delicious.”
“Thank you. Can you set the table and call the girls? The gravy is almost done and we have that pack meeting tonight.”
“Sure. No Patrick today?”
“He took that extra job, remember? Said he was looking at new opportunities.”
“That’s right. I don’t know where we went wrong with him. He’s so reclusive, always hooked up to those damn games. He’s got no drive.”
“Well, maybe he’s finally found something worthwhile to do with his time.”
“I hope so. I’ll go get the girls.” He went around to the end of the hallway and called, “Michelle, Brigid, dinner is ready.”
Michelle called back, “All right!” and a moment later she came out of her room and joined her parents in the kitchen.
“Where’s Brigid?” Christopher asked.
“She’s had a lot of homework lately,” Katherine replied. “She’s probably finishing off a question.”
They served themselves while they chatted about their day, but still there was no Brigid.
“You start eating,” Katherine said. “I’ll go get her.” She went and knocked on her daughter’s door. “Brigid? Are you in here? Supper is ready. Brigid? Can I come in?” There was no answer. “Brigid?” She opened the door slowly.
Brigid was lying on the floor, her math homework beside her.
“Brigid?” Katherine knelt beside her daughter and touched her neck. There was still a pulse. “Chris! Call an ambulance!”
“What is it?”
“It’s Brigid! She’s on the floor. Oh my God, did she overdose?”
“I’m calling 911 now, just stay calm.”
There was a flurry of activity and soon the two paramedics had Brigid loaded on a stretcher and were carrying her out of the house. Her parents stood in the living room, holding each other, their concern obvious on their faces. Michelle hovered in the kitchen, biting her lip and wringing her hands. Dinner sat forgotten on their plates.
“What’s going to happen to her?” Katherine asked.
“Based on what you’ve told us, we’re going to take her to the hospital and hook her up to an IV and hope that brings her around. If you could come to the hospital to answer some questions, that would be very helpful. The more we know about her condition and medical history, the better.”
“I’ll go,” Christopher said. He kissed his wife on the forehead. “You two eat. When she wakes up, I can come home and you two can go see her. All right?”
“I don’t want to leave her,” Katherine said.
“I know. I’ll call you as soon as she wakes up.”
Katherine nodded. She stayed by the window staring down the street long after the ambulance and her husband’s car had disappeared.
As per Phillipe’s instructions, Patrick showed up in back jeans, a black t-shirt, and a black jacket. He’d gelled his hair and worn a pair of black work boots.
Phillipe was dressed in his work clothes, so they matched. “Are you ready for this?”
“Hell yeah. Let’s get this done and we can get the fuck outta dodge.”
“Get in the car, then. Bruno is waiting for us.”
They pulled up at Bruno’s office and were quickly introduced to a few other guys in black clothes and serious faces. For Phillipe, keeping the serious face in place was child’s play. He did it all the time at work. He only hoped Patrick would be able to keep it together. They loaded up into a Hummer and headed for the meeting place.
A few blocks from the job, Phillipe pulled his phone out and turned it off. He wasn’t expecting any calls but he didn’t need it going off at random and blowing the job. Patrick did the same.
They parked the van and filed into the empty warehouse, Bruno in the lead, turning on lights as he went. There was a
table set up in the middle of the room and they all took their places on one side.
It wasn’t long before the door opened and another group of men filed in. There was one man in a nice suit with a briefcase, the others were in t-shirts and jeans – the dealer and his goons.
Phillipe stopped paying attention after that. He was pretty sure if things escalated, there’d be enough warning that he’d be able to jump in. Otherwise he had no interest in what these men were doing.
Christopher waited by his daughter’s bed for several hours. He’d talked to doctors, spoken to nurses, answered what felt like thousands of questions, and all that was left for him to do was wait. He’d already called Katherine and told her to take Michelle to the meeting. They could come to the hospital afterwards. His wife had been reluctant, but had finally agreed.
“My insurance won’t cover her. She can’t afford a stay in the hospital, not with her tuition. And we can’t afford to pay all of it. Talk to Louis, maybe someone in the pack can help us.”
That had convinced her and with all his business taken care of, he’d settled in to wait. And wait. Every time a nurse came in to check Brigid’s vitals, he asked a hundred questions of his own.
Finally Brigid stirred and opened her eyes. “Where am I? My head hurts. My stomach – oh.”
“Hey, just relax,” Christopher said, pushing the call button. “You’re in the hospital.”
A nurse came in and smiled. “What can I – oh, I see, I’ll get the doctor.”
“Hospital? Oh, Dad, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about that now. Let’s just talk to the doctor and figure out what’s going on.”
A middle-aged woman in a white coat came him with a clipboard in hand. “Hello, I’m Dr. Singh. You’re Brigid O’Leary, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I’m glad to see you’re awake. So, you have a rare strain of anemia, according to your medical records.”
“Yes, I was diagnosed when I was twelve. They thought it was bi-polar at first.”
“And you have a standing prescription for some pretty standard medications?”
“Yes.”
“When was the last time you actually took a shot?”
“I’ve been missing the odd shot for a few months now, I was trying to stretch them a little because I was short on money. But I had to start skipping more of them because the pharmacy raised the price. At first it wasn’t a big deal. This time it felt like I was twelve again and going through a serious deficiency or something, but I was out of meds. I thought I could make it through until morning, just deal with the symptoms, and go to the pharmacy in the morning. I didn’t realize how my body would react to the withdrawal.”
“Well, we ran a few tests while you were asleep and I think this may actually be a good thing.”
“I’m sorry, Dr. Singh, you think not taking her medication was a good thing?”
“We’ve administered intravenous fluids and the proper medication with positive affect, and I wouldn’t recommend missing future doses, but it did get her into the hospital. Brigid, it is all right if we continue to discuss your medical condition in front of your father?”
“Of course. I’d like him to stay.”
“All right. We ran some tests and we discovered something. We’d like to do a stomach biopsy.”
“Biopsy?” Christopher said. “That’s a cancer test.”
“Not exclusively. A biopsy means we want to make a small incision in your left side just below your ribs and take a small sample of tissue from your stomach. We do this with various organs to test for a variety of diseases, including cancer.”
“What are you testing for?” Brigid said.
“In your case, I’m afraid we are testing for cancer. Related forms of anemia can mask symptoms of stomach cancer. People often don’t come in until it’s too late. Even with the medication you missed, you shouldn’t have passed out like that. We’re hopeful that, in your case, this hiccup with your medication means we’ll catch the cancer early enough to treat it successfully. But, that’s not something to worry about today. First, let’s get the biopsy done and get the results back. Once we know for sure if there’s something wrong, we can put you in touch with the proper specialist and figure out your treatment from there.” Through the entire conversation, Dr. Singh’s voice had been level and calm. Now she smiled. “I know it’s a lot to take in and you’ll want to talk to your family about it. Right now, we need you to stay in the hospital until morning for observation. I’ll come back in the morning to discuss the biopsy with you. The nurse will be by shortly with some dinner for you.”
“All right. Thanks.”
“Do you have any questions?”
“Uh, how soon can we get the biopsy done?”
“This is something you’ll want to think about, talk to your family about.”
“No, if there’s a problem, I need to know as soon as possible.”
“It’s a very small procedure. I’m sure we could get you in tonight or tomorrow morning.”
“Do it. As soon as you can.”
Dr. Singh nodded. “Try to relax and get some rest. I’ll come let you know when you’ll go for the biopsy.”
“I wasn’t expecting that,” Brigid said when she was alone with her father again.
“Neither was I. We were worried you’d missed a lot of shots because of my insurance. Or that you had overdosed. I’m glad that’s not the case, but cancer?”
“Maybe they’ve caught it in time. And I mean, I am a werewolf, right? So maybe it won’t be so bad.”
“Being a werewolf hasn’t helped with being sick, Brigid. I don’t know how it could help now.”
“Dad, we don’t know it’s cancer yet. Let’s just wait and see what the tests say, okay?”
“Okay. We’ll wait.”
There was a knock at the door and the nurse peered in. “Dr. Singh said you were ready for dinner.”
“Yes please,” Brigid said. “And thank you. I’m starving.”
“Okay, you eat. I’m going to call your mother and get her updated,” her father said.
“Tell her not to panic,” Brigid said.
“I’ll try.”
When Brigid was alone in the room, she leaned over and grabbed the phone from the bedside table. She dialed Phillipe’s number from memory and muttered, “Come on, pick up, pick up.”
The semi-mechanical female voice said, “You’ve reached the mail box of-”
“Phillipe.”
“-please leave your message at the tone. When you are done leaving your message, you may hang up or press pound for more options.”
Brigid sighed and hung up. This wasn’t something she wanted to leave in a voicemail. She lifted the lid off the dinner tray and dug in, not caring that it wasn’t nearly as good as her mother’s cooking. Her dad would be back soon, and knowing her mother, she’d be showing up some time this evening, so this was likely the only chance she’d have to collect her thoughts in peace.
“Man, that was actually kind of awesome,” Patrick said as they pulled up in front of Phillipe’s place.
Phillipe rolled his eyes. “Seriously? It was boring. We just stood there.”
“And we got paid to just stand there.”
“We got lucky. If something had happened, Bruno would have expected us to handle it and I don’t fancy being in the middle of a gang war.”
“Nothing happened, so relax. It’s not like we’re going to make that a habit. We’re going to get out of town before the full moon. Tomorrow, you talk to Remy and I talk to Louis and we get it all sorted. Deal?”
“Deal.” As he walked into the house, he turned his cellphone back on.
“Miss anything important?”
“No messages or voicemail, but there’s a missed call here.”
“From who?”
“No clue. I don’t know the number.”
“Huh. Well, if it’s important they’ll call back, right?”
“Right.
Come on. I’ve got half a bottle of scotch and we’re celebrating tonight.”
They got downstairs and kicked their shoes off. Patrick flopped on the couch while Phillipe fetched glasses and the scotch.
Patrick’s phone rang and he groaned. “It’s Michelle.”
“Answer it. If she gives you trouble, give the phone to me.”
“Fine.” He hit the button. “Hello?”
“Patrick, oh thank God.”
He sat up straight. “Michelle, what’s wrong?”
“I’m at the hall. The Human Order just barged in. We’ve got children here. I – shit, they’re coming this way. They’re rounding us all up.”
“Michelle, I’m coming. Help is coming. Just – Michelle?”
“What is it?” Phillipe asked.
Patrick was already on his feet. “I need to get to the hall. They need help.”
“What happened?”
“The Human Order. They’re finally retaliating for what we did to them when your clan got caught.”
“That was three years ago.”
“They’re not the type to forgive and forget.”
“Patrick, you can’t go.”
“What are you talking about?”
“They’re expecting wolves. They’re counting on people like Michelle calling the ones who weren’t there to come help. You’re walking into a trap.”
“I can’t leave them. I mean, I was going to walk away, but I can’t leave them in danger.”
“I’ll go.” He tossed Patrick his cellphone. “You call Remy and get him to round up the clan. You backed him up, he’ll return the favor. I’ll get to the pack hall and stall for time.”
“Okay. Okay. Thanks. Yeah, that makes more sense.”
“Then move. Let’s go. Don’t worry about the door.”
They ran up the stairs and out the door.
Phillipe parked a few blocks from the pack hall and made his way up the street, his senses on high alert. The pack hall was in a more central and highly populated area than the clan’s warehouse. While that meant more chance of someone calling the cops, it also meant more chances for someone to get hurt.
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