Bloodshade

by Isadora Brown

  A threatening snarl pinched the silence. I felt rather than saw the lycan push Ramiro on his back. A loud thump caused me to turn. Jon was on top of Ramiro, still a black lycan, his flaring white fangs centimeters from Ramiro's face. Jon growled, a threat, keeping Ramiro down with one paw on his shoulder. His narrowed black eyes were filled with hate, with anger. I instantly recognized them as Jon's because I saw the same emotions in his own eyes as well.

  "I am not afraid of your dog," Ramiro said.

  "You should be," I managed to get out. "He'll have no problem killing you, ripping you to shreds."

  "I doubt it."

  Before I realized what happened, I heard a gunshot and a whimper. I saw Ramiro holding a gun he probably got with his other hand. He only grazed Jon. There was crimson blood dripping from Jon's right arm but it wasn't much. Jon didn't hold himself back and lunged for Ramiro's throat. Ramiro tried to pull the gun to take another shot but I managed to run around Ramiro's fallen form and kick it out of Ramiro's hands. It clattered against the tile floor. I ran and picked it up.

  I heard Ramiro shout in pain and looked over to see Jon biting a good chunk out of his neck. There was a good chance Ramiro was going to die. I knew I wouldn't be able to talk Jon out of doing what he wanted to do so I didn't try. Instead, I shut the door and locked it as quickly as I could. I was certain someone would have heard Ramiro scream and the last thing I needed was his army racing up here and saving his life when all I wanted was to watch him bleed out.

  A loud thwack caused my ears to pop and I realized Jon ripped a good chunk of flesh from Ramiro's neck.

  Suddenly, there was pounding on the door. "You okay, boss?" The doorknob jangled, as though he was trying to get inside. "I heard a scream."

  "¡Ayúdame, idiota!"

  "Jon!" I shouted, hoping to get the lycan's attention. I went over to the window, looking down. We were only one floor up and there was a tree close to the window. If I jumped, I could probably grab onto the branch, wiggle down, and make a run for my car. His security team was dashing inside anyway, knowing he was having an issue.

  More pounding on the door.

  "Jon!"

  He roared at me. I rolled my eyes. I knew what that meant. Go, and I'll catch up. I practically scoffed but didn't want to waste the time.

  I opened the window and then slung my purse across my chest to make sure I wouldn't drop anything. Now, nobody was patrolling this side of the house. They were all heading for this room and none of them thought to wait by the window.

  "Jon!" I said again as I slid my leg outside the window. "We have to go. We, as in you and me."

  He roared back before taking another chomp of Ramiro. I had to be very careful. There was no balcony, unfortunately, which meant I needed to position myself on the window perfectly before I had a chance to even go for the tree.

  I took a deep breath. My hand itched to reach up and fiddle with my cross, but that would cost me too much time, and time was not something I had. Slowly, I pulled my other leg through the window so I was sitting on the sill. My toes were barely out of reach of the thick branch.

  I let out a shaky breath. Logically, I knew if I fell I wouldn't hurt myself too badly. I was only on the second floor. And yet, if I messed up, if I gave anyone a chance to grab me, that was when I would have the issue. The getting caught, not the falling down. I needed to make it to that branch to make sure that didn't happen.

  I extended my leg out until my foot touched the branch. I pressed down on it and heard a snap before nearly propelling myself out of the window. I let out a gasp, my grip on the sill underneath me tightening. I needed more stability, which meant I needed to extend my legs out even further in order to get a better handle on the branch. I refused to look at the branch that had snapped off and fallen to the ground.

  "Okay, Tucker," I murmured.

  My breathing wasn't even and I couldn't get a handle on it. I heard growling and snapping behind me. Ramiro's shouts of pain and the banging on the door clouded my thoughts. I knew I needed to get out of there quickly because that door was going to be broken down in a matter of seconds.

  "Just do it. Just do it." I inhaled, trying to clear my lungs. "Five, four, three, two—"

  Before I even said one, I pushed myself out of the window and let my feet hit the branch. I caught my balance just in time, but did not hesitate until I could circle my arms around the thick trunk of the tree. The branch swayed underneath my weight but didn't break.

  "Jon," I shouted as I glanced down, looking for a way to land safely on the grass.

  At that moment, the door sprang open. Jon didn't hesitate. He released Ramiro and jumped out of the window. He landed with force on his paws and looked up at me. Even though he was still a lycan, I recognized the annoyed look on his face that seemed to indicate I was taking much longer than he would have preferred.

  I knelt down and grabbed the branch before swinging my body down. When I landed on my feet, little needles shot straight up my leg but I kept moving. I had to ignore the pain or we wouldn't get away.

  Jon snorted at me.

  "There they are," a man said, hanging out of the window. "Get them!"

  Shots rang out. Jon snorted again and used his nose to point behind him.

  I gave him a startled look. He wanted me to ride him?

  A bullet whizzed past my face and I let out a garbled cry. I didn't hesitate any longer. I ran for Jon and jumped onto his back. The minute my legs wrapped around his back, he took off to my car. I whipped my keys out of my purse and unlocked the car before we got there.

  Shouts and gun fire continued to follow us. I didn't even look around to see if the community security was involved. This time, I did fiddle with my necklace, praying to God we would make it to the car without either one of us getting hurt.

  "Please, please, please, please, please."

  Jon came to a halt, sliding across the parking lot. I stumbled off of him, scraping my knees on the gravel. I grabbed my door handle as I pulled myself up, flinging it open. I hopped inside and closed the door. My left mirror shattered as a bullet hit the glass. I let out a yelp.

  I heard the back door rip open and Jon leaped inside. Instead of clawing my leather, I heard him grunt. Not the lycan, but him. The man. Which meant he was probably naked in my Nissan.

  "You better close the door," I said as I backed out.

  "Just drive," he responded.

  I didn't need to be told twice. I didn't care about security anymore. I didn't care about endangering myself or other people. I pressed down on the gas, my only goal being getting the fuck out of the community as quickly as I could. I didn't look back. I didn't want to see if they were following me or not. It didn't matter. My life was at risk. Jon's life was at risk.

  When I came up to the exit, the security guard pulled out a clipboard. I was supposed to sign it, indicating that I was leaving, and hand back my pass. He wouldn't open the gate if I didn't do it.

  "Drive through," Jon instructed. His voice sounded rough. I didn't want to say tired, because that wasn't it, but it was as though it was difficult for him to speak. I wondered if it had to do with the transformation.

  "I don't think my car—"

  "Drive through."

  I bit my lip to keep myself from saying anything else. My Nissan was a 2000. I didn't think it would be able to take down the gate and give me a way out, but I also wasn't going to argue with the man who saved my life.

  "Okay," I muttered to myself.

  I gripped the steering wheel tighter. My knuckles turned white. I could feel the cool metal of my cross as it pressed against my collarbone. I held my foot in place on the gas.

  The security guard must have figured out what I was doing because he dropped the clipboard and started shouting at me. When he saw I wasn't going to listen, he grabbed his cell phone. He was probably calling the cops. Honestly, I couldn't blame him.

  The gate came closer. I started to get nervous. I wanted to release the gas.

>   "Don't even think about it," Jon snapped.

  He must have seen the look on my face in the rearview mirror.

  Asshole.

  I continued to press forward because I didn't have much of a choice. I crashed into the gate and was surprised when the gate fell off. I kept driving until it fell from the bumped of my car and into the street, landing with a loud clang. I made a sharp right turn, throwing Jon into the side of the car. I heard him grunt as he landed but he didn't complain, which meant I had done something right. It was only after that turn that I glanced in my mirror.

  No one had been chasing me. I could have left like a normal, sane person. Like a reporter who had just completed an interview, not someone who was running for their life.

  The ride was silent. I could feel the tension between the two of us. I knew Jon was mad at me about something but I didn't know what that was or why he was angry. I wanted to ask him but couldn't find it in me to actually do so because I didn't think I had done anything wrong. That, and I didn't trust myself to speak just yet.

  Juan Ramiro was going to kill me. I was sure of it. If Jon hadn't been there…I would fight. I was scared but I knew I would have fought to save my life. I just didn't think I would have been successful.

  "Thank you," I forced myself to say. My voice was raw. I had to clear my throat so I could speak properly.

  He said nothing in return. When I glanced in the rearview mirror, I got a glare from nearly-black eyes.

  Yup, he was angry.

  The drive to the parking garage wasn't as long as I thought it would be. I kept looking around to see if I was being followed. I wasn't. At least Stephanie Guzman's family wasn't stupid. Why make a scene when it wasn't necessary? If they wanted me dead, they would find a way.

  After I pulled into my stall, I was surprised to see Jon dressed in a black hoodie with the hood up and black pants with motorcycle boots on his feet.

  "How do you have clothes?" I asked after we got out of the car and started heading to my apartment.

  "I saw your car and I changed in there," he said, his voice gruff. "It's easy to break into cars. The harder part is breaking out of them."

  I nodded my head. He didn't say more than that and I didn't push him. Exhaustion caught up to me and all I wanted to do was draw myself a hot bath and forget the world for a few hours. But I knew I wouldn't feel safe. I could pretend, ignore, and refuse to believe circumstances had changed, but I would be lying to myself. Considering the fact that Jon was risking everything to walk me to my door in broad daylight, he knew the circumstances I faced.

  By the time I got to my door, my hands were shaking so badly, I couldn't even hold onto my keys.

  Jon picked them up after I dropped them a third time and unlocked my door before opening it himself.

  The minute the door was closed, he started to head to my bedroom.

  "Grab a bag," he instructed his voice cold. "Pack up everything. You can't be here anymore."

  "What?" I shrieked. I hadn't meant to activate my inner banshee, but I was too scared, too shocked, to grab a handle on my emotions. "What are you talking about?" I followed him into my room.

  "They want to kill you, Lara," he shouted. He went into my closet and started grabbing my blouses. "You can't stay here. They know where you live."

  "I'm not going to leave."

  "Do you have anyone you can stay with?" He moved on to my slacks. "What about the hacker?"

  "I'm not—Robbie? I'm not living with Robbie."

  "Do you have anyone else?" Jon asked, turning around abruptly and giving me a cutting look. "He was the one who called me, you know. It seems like he's more concerned with your safety than you are."

  "Wait—what?"

  "Don't stand there with your mouth open like a goddamn fish," he snapped. “Pack a goddamn bag."

  "I'm not leaving," I told him. I couldn't move. I was rooted in my spot. I wanted to move. I wanted to pull him back from messing up my somewhat organized closet. I wanted…I didn't know what I wanted. This was happening so fast. I didn't quite know how to handle it.

  "Yes." His voice left no room for argument. "You are. If you don't, you’re dead. I can't always be here to protect you."

  "I didn't ask you to be," I said, finally finding the ability to move so I could follow him in my bathroom. "And why does this have anything to do with Robbie?"

  "He's the one you went to when I asked for information on Crawford, huh?" He opened my medicine cabinet and started grabbing everything indiscriminately and throwing it into the bag. "He's a smart guy, Red. Why aren't you still with him?"

  "Wait, what? How do you even—"

  "It's obvious he's still in love with you. Whatever the reason, he knew you were going to be at the mayor's house. Her goddamn house, Lara. You can't be that fucking stupid." He threw my shampoo bottle across the room so white liquid splattered out and hit the floor. I jumped. "You can't—"

  He stopped himself, like he was trying to get hold of his emotions.

  "I am so angry with you," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Now stop standing there and do something productive."

  "Excuse me? You don't get to talk to me that way! Just because you saved my life doesn't give you the right—"

  "What is your goddamn problem? Robbie somehow found me. I'm a fucking serial killer, Lara. Everyone is afraid of me. But Robbie reaches out because he's more afraid of what might happen to you than he is of me. Because he knows you care about me. You know me. And I—" He dropped the bag carelessly to the floor as he grabbed his head. "You don't even give a shit, do you? For fuck's sake, Lara, you're going to get someone killed. You're going to get yourself killed. Doesn't that matter to you? Does anything else matter to you?"

  "What about you?" I shouted back. "You get to be angry because of what happened to you. You get to kill people and get your revenge. But I can't find out what the hell happened to my family? I don't have a family anymore, thanks to Guzman and Ramiro. I'm alone because of them."

  "You're alone because you push everyone away. You think your anger is the only anger, that it's more important, that no one else's anger matters. You push people away."

  "Oh, really?"

  "Yeah." He threw the bag at me and I was forced to catch it.

  "If I push people away, why are you here? Why do you care?" I took a step towards him, and then another, until I stood directly in front of him, mere inches between our bodies. "You and I are the same. You are just like me, and somehow, we found each other."

  "Yeah, well, not anymore." He stepped around me.

  "What does that mean?" I called to his back.

  "It means, if you have one last ounce of intelligence in your goddamn stubborn body, you'll go to Robbie and stay with him. Because if you don't, they will kill you, and I won't be able to stop them."

  "Jon, I—"

  "I bring nothing to you but danger," Jon said, stopping at my door and turning to give me one last look. "At least, that's what I thought. But the truth is, you bring danger to yourself. You invite it in. It makes you feel like you're living. But you don't know what living is because you live for ghosts. I do it too. But you could have a life."

  "Wait, Jon."

  "Go live, Lara. Go live before you kill yourself."

  And he walked out the door.

  Deep in my heart, I knew I wouldn't see him again.

  Chapter 11

  I didn't know why I was adamantly against leaving my place, but I was. However, I couldn't deny the fact that Jon was right. Ramiro tried to have me killed during an interview his own niece had called herself.

  I ran my fingers through my hair and looked at the bag I dropped to the floor. Tears started to prick my eyes. I didn't know why. I didn't know I was crying. I wanted to call Jon, demand he come back and apologize to me for talking to me this way. I wanted to thank him for saving me. I wanted…

  I wanted a lot.

  I shook my head and blinked my eyes to make sure those tears wouldn't fall. I knelt
down and grabbed the bag. At the very least, I could probably stay with Robbie for a couple of days. Then, I could get him to install some sort of security system at my place to make sure I would be aware of any threats on my life while I was there. I refused to live with Robbie. That would be complicated at best. There was a reason we hadn't worked out and I didn't want to be confronted with feelings that hadn't quite left—on his part.

  Not that I knew for sure he still loved me, but…

  I forced myself to move. Even in my head, I sounded like an idiot. I grabbed the bag and slung it over my shoulder. I grabbed a few more essentials including my laptop charger and my phone charger and headed out of the door.

  Robbie lived at the top of Perry's tallest apartment complex. Sunshade Paradise was an apartment complex that lived out of a twenty-story building. Each apartment had a balcony, which I couldn't understand simply because there was no way in hell I would step out onto a balcony made out of some flimsy scraps of wood, but Robbie seemed to enjoy being so high. The man wasn't afraid of anything. When we were together, I refused to go out at night just because I didn't like the feeling in my stomach. One time, he went out there in the rain and jumped up and down to scare the shit out of me.

  It worked, unfortunately.

  I didn't speak to him for two days. He laughed the whole time. I hoped I wouldn't have to deal with that again.

  Instead of going for my car, I decided to walk to Sunshade. It was ten blocks over but I needed to get this pent-up adrenaline out of my system anyway.

  I probably looked like a hot mess as I stepped out of the building. It was a cool day despite the sun shining down. I should have grabbed a jacket but I hadn't thought about it until now. My head was too consumed with Jon, with the fact that there was a good chance I wasn't going to see him again and how it was all my fault. Suddenly, my bags felt heavier and I had to stop and blink away more tears.

  "Get a grip on yourself, Tucker," I muttered to myself. "For Chrissake."

  I pushed myself forward as a tear escaped and rolled down my cheek. The last thing I needed was a concerned stranger to see me and ask if I was okay. I would probably lose it. Not in anger—I wouldn't go off on them—but the small thread keeping my sanity in check had grown so tight that all it needed was a gentle tug, and I would snap. I would cry and feed into my sorrow and I didn't want to give myself even the chance to do that. I needed to get to Robbie's first.