Werewolf Bitten, Twice Shy

by Riley Rivers

  “Um, come in.”

  The door opened and Ezra peeked in. “Hey there. I thought I heard you up.”

  Cameron bit the inside of his cheek. Guess he hadn’t been as quiet as he’d thought, with the nightmares. “Sorry.”

  “Hey, no, that’s okay.” Ezra came further into the room, but stayed a bit of a distance away from the bed. Giving Cameron space. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine,” Cameron said automatically. “I can get out of your hair now.”

  Ezra gave him a deeply unimpressed look. “Cameron.”

  Cameron squirmed under the scrutiny. When Ezra didn’t let up on looking at him, he sighed and turned his attention to the bedspread.

  “I’m not feeling great,” he admitted.

  Ezra nodded. “I can’t imagine you would be. You’ve had one hell of a day.”

  Cameron swallowed. “Yeah. I guess.”

  Ezra snorted. “You guess.” He scrubbed a hand over his short, neat hair. “God, you’re a master of the understatement.”

  “Sorry,” Cameron said. He hated how small his voice sounded. But this was why he’d tried to downplay it. He knew Ezra was annoyed with him—had to be. Cameron had managed to fuck up in a lot of ways all at once.

  Okay, maybe getting attacked by a wolf hadn’t been entirely Cameron’s fault. But it kind of felt like it, somehow.

  Ezra sighed and shook his head. “No, don’t apologize. I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” He sighed again, this time sounding a lot sadder. “You just scared me to death, okay? And dealing with the hospital was a nightmare and a half. Again, not your fault, but I obviously couldn’t make any decisions for you, so it was just letting them take you and then waiting for any information and then waiting for you to wake up… and then you did wake up and I’d hoped to at least take you somewhere… safe. Familiar and comfortable and…”

  Cameron stayed quiet, staring at his right hand clutching the white, white comforter. There was still blood under his nails.

  “Is it really just you and your car?” Ezra asked quietly.

  Cameron supposed he had nothing left to lose. Except his job maybe, or possibly Ezra’s respect. But Ezra had said he wasn’t going to fire him. Although maybe that had changed, now that he knew the address on Cameron’s driver’s license was about five years out of date. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

  “I see.”

  Cameron waited.

  “Well,” Ezra said after another moment more. “You took your pain medication at around three, so you can have another dose at seven, since it’s every four to six hours. In the meantime, you should have something to eat. And drink. The doctor was pretty clear about liquid calories, if nothing else. Is there anything you feel up to having?”

  “No, I… I can…” Cameron struggled for a second to come up with something that sounded halfway reasonable. All he could settle on was, “You don’t have to.”

  There was a very pregnant pause.

  Ezra took a single step forward then stopped, hand dropping back to his side from where it had momentarily reached out.

  “Listen,” he said eventually, when the silence had made Cameron start to sweat. “I can’t even imagine how much you must hate to rely on other people. Being in the situation you are, with what you’ve been dealt… it’s amazing how much you’ve done and how far you’ve come. You’re a strong, smart, and incredibly resilient person.”

  Cameron held his breath, waiting for the ‘but.’

  “So maybe…” Ezra went on, voice a little shaky. “Maybe for just a little while, you can take what’s being offered to you. It won’t have to be very long if you don’t want it to be, but you’re recovering from something traumatic that happened only hours ago. Let me give you a bed and a meal and a roof over your head for at least the night. Okay? And then tomorrow we can talk more about this. But after you’ve rested and eaten. Okay?”

  Cameron licked his lips, throat dry. “My… my camera’s in my car.” So’s the rest of my life. “I can’t just leave it overnight at some random park. It’s already been hours. I…”

  “I can bring it here, if you give me your keys.”

  Cameron stared up at Ezra, wide-eyed. “There’s still a fucking wolf in that park!”

  “And I know the risk,” Ezra said, voice calm. “The state has already been informed that a wolf that possibly has rabies is in that area, so there’s a team out looking for it. I don’t plan to linger either. Besides, it’s certainly safer for me to go get it than it is for you to.”

  Cameron had to admit that Ezra had several points. He didn’t want to admit it, but there it was.

  “Okay,” he said, defeated. “If it’s really… if you’re really okay with it. Then thank you. That would all be… good.”

  “Thank you,” Ezra said, and he sounded like he meant it. “Thank you for letting me do this.”

  Cameron’s breath stuttered in this throat.

  Ezra continued, so maybe he hadn’t noticed. “How do you feel about pizza? Easy to eat one-handed, right? I could put in an order.”

  “Pizza would be great.” At Ezra’s raised eyebrow, Cameron added, “Really. I like pizza. Thank you.”

  “Alright then. Let me get you some more to drink, and I’ll put an order in. And then I’ll go get your car, okay?”

  “Could, um…” Cameron fiddled with the comforter. “Could you get my car first? If that’s—if that’s not too much trouble. Unless you need to eat first too. I mean—whichever is fine, just—”

  “It’s okay,” Ezra said easily. “I understand. I’ll go now, alright? Don’t worry. I’ll just order it for delivery. If you’re comfortable with that.”

  Cameron nodded. He wasn’t, exactly, but he could be. It was less that he worried about the pizza and more that he was freaking out over the idea that he’d be alone in Ezra’s home. It felt… wrong. Like he was trespassing.

  But Ezra wanted him here.

  Ezra, who was still watching him, with an expression that Cameron couldn’t quite interpret.

  “Okay,” Ezra said. “Let me just get you something else to drink and then I’ll order food, and an Uber to take me to the park. Sound good?”

  “Yeah. Thank you.”

  “Good,” Ezra said, softer now. “Okay. I’ll be back in a second.”

  ***

  When Ezra left with Cameron’s keys, he’d told him that Cameron had run of the house, and that he could go where he wanted to. He was free to help himself to the fridge, or take a shower, or watch something in the living room. “I’ll give you a tour when I get back,” Ezra had said. “But for now, feel free to just explore.”

  Cameron still very much felt that he didn’t belong, but after fifteen minutes of just sitting by himself in bed and getting steadily more anxious about Ezra, Cameron’s car, the wolf, and any number of other things… he needed a distraction.

  His arm was really starting to hurt again, but he needed to stay awake to get the pizza delivery. Getting up seemed like the best thing to do in order to stay alert and to not focus on the worst-case situations running around his head.

  He explored the room he was in first. It wasn’t huge, being well-filled by the bed, desk, and dresser, but it wasn’t cluttered by the furniture. The door did indeed go to a closet, which turned out to be surprisingly large, considering what it looked like from the outside. Cameron’s coat was hung up all by itself, looking particularly gruesome in full light. His left sleeve had nearly been ripped off, which wasn’t something he’d noticed coming home from the hospital.

  Here. Coming here from the hospital.

  The closest was otherwise empty, save for the hangers. They were all the nice, wooden kind.

  He opened the other door and ventured out of the room. He only had a hazy recollection of being led down the hall to the guest bedroom, so he wasn’t surprised to find the hallway wholly unfamiliar. It was a short thing, though, with a door directly across from the one Cameron had just exited. The door
was open, and showed the way into a bathroom.

  He took the opportunity to use it while he was there, looking at the seafoam-green tile with white trim and the bathtub, with a shower attached. Something funny and fragile came over him at the sight of something so simple as a bathtub. Simple, maybe, but a luxury that Cameron hadn’t had access to since he was a kid.

  He washed his hands and moved on.

  The house opened up, then, into a large living room. There were bookcases, a fireplace, and a huge sectional couch lining the edge of the room. The wall-mounted television was large and impossibly thin, and Cameron couldn’t even imagine himself sitting on the couch to watch something.

  From there, though, things got a little more familiar. Right next to the living room was a door, currently propped open, that led into the hall connecting Ezra’s house to his studio. For one ridiculous moment Cameron considered going to the studio-side to do something like try to clean up a little. It’d give him an actual activity instead of wandering aimlessly, and maybe it’d help him earn his keep some.

  But as soon as the thought entered his mind, he discarded it. Ezra would kill him. Worse, Ezra would look at him and sigh and be disappointed that Cameron wasn’t taking better care of himself. Cameron could live the rest of his life without further disappointing Ezra, so trying to get some work done in the studio was out.

  Besides… his arm was throbbing, and he could stand to not make things worse.

  Across from the studio door was another open room, this time a kitchen, which connected to a dining room. It was all gleaming palladium hardware and shiny, dark granite countertops and Cameron had his millionth thought of what am I doing here. It was the kind of kitchen you saw in home and garden magazines.

  The refrigerator though… it was covered in tourist destination magnets. The big, colorful ones that you could get in any souvenir shop. They ranged from interesting to tasteful to garish. There were dozens.

  It was cute, and a human touch, and some of them were also holding up little pieces of paper with notes written on them. One was obviously a grocery list, another one said Dan and Lydia 7:30pm Wed.

  Cameron had to stop and stare at the note that said Cameron, 10:30am Sat. It was held up with a magnet that said Tokyo! in cheerful red and yellow letters, and Ezra had drawn a little smiley face underneath the date and time.

  Cameron kept himself from reaching out to touch the note, just to see if it was real, but it was a near thing.

  He also had to squash the urge to open every single drawer and cabinet in the kitchen, to see what they held. Ezra’s home was very tastefully decorated, but the touches like the refrigerator magnets made it seem lived in instead of pure magazine cover. Cameron wanted to know what else was there. What kind of… cereals Ezra had, or what he kept in his vegetable drawer, or if he had any junk food. Cameron wanted to know.

  He liked how human Ezra was, here. Of course—it was his home. He had a life outside of the studio, outside of the few Fridays that Cameron had been lucky enough to spend with him.

  Of course, things were a bit of a mess now.

  Cameron was supposed to help himself. If nothing else, he could do with drinking something again. Ezra had brought him a bottle of water and a glass of apple juice. Cameron had drunk half the bottle and finished the juice, and left both the bottle and glass in the bedroom.

  Doing the loop again passed more time, anyway. And kept him upright.

  It was only once he’d gotten back to the guest bedroom that he realized he’d missed a staircase. It had been practically right in front of his face, on the other side of the living room, but it was a big staircase, dark wooden rails on both sides. Leading up.

  Of course. The house was a two-story. And there had to be at least a bedroom for Ezra up there.

  Curiosity got the best of him, and Cameron found himself slowly climbing the stairs, sweating bullets the whole time. Probably he shouldn’t be doing this. He was here as a guest. Helping himself to something in the fridge was vastly different from out and out snooping.

  He just… he just wanted to see. What was up there.

  Lots of doors, as it turned out. The stairs led to a full square landing, surrounded by doors. More dark wood. Cameron just started with the ones directly across from the staircase, which opened to a laundry nook. The next led to what was clearly a second guest bedroom. Another bathroom. An office space. Several closets.

  Coming full circle at the last door, Cameron put his hand on the knob and turned… and stopped.

  This wasn’t his business. He may have been invited in, but going this far was trespassing. He’d been trusted enough to be left alone. Cameron didn’t want to betray that trust, even if there was no way that Ezra would find out if Cameron had snuck into his bedroom to check it out.

  He went back down the stairs.

  ***

  Cameron ate a couple slices of pizza when it arrived, but his heart wasn’t in it. It was all kinds of weird to sit alone in Ezra’s pretty kitchen and eat pizza out of the box because Cameron was mildly terrified of opening drawers and cupboards to find out where the dishes were.

  It was good pizza though, and Cameron was hungry. It was just that nerves had never been easy on his appetite.

  At least the nerves weren’t as bad as they could have been. Ezra had texted him to let him know that he’d safely gotten to Cameron’s car and was on his way back. Cameron had apologized for the mess (again) and Ezra had told him there was nothing to apologize for, and that he’d be home soon.

  Cameron checked the time again and again, just waiting for when Ezra would be back so that Cameron could know what to do next, when the front door opened, the sound making Cameron almost fall out of his chair. Wouldn’t that have been hilarious. He probably would have hit his arm on the way down, too.

  He couldn’t quite keep himself from getting up and going over to the front to greet Ezra like an eager puppy.

  “Hey,” Ezra said, smiling at him as he unwound his scarf. There was snow melting in his hair and on his coat. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine,” Cameron said. “Welcome back. Did it… did it go okay?”

  “No trouble at all,” Ezra said with a chuckle. “Do you want to get your coat on and I can help you bring in whatever you want for the night? Or you can just tell me what to grab. How are you feeling?”

  “I said fine,” Cameron said, confused.

  “I know you said that,” Ezra replied, with a touch of exasperation. “But so far you’ve ‘been fine’ after a number of traumatic events, so forgive me if I ask for clarification.”

  “Sorry,” Cameron stuttered, cheeks flaming.

  Ezra instantly softened. “Hey, Cameron, no, I didn’t… I just meant that I understand it might be an automatic reply. So I just wanted to check in and see if you meant it, or if it was just something you said on autopilot. But there’s no wrong answer. Okay?”

  “Um, okay.” Cameron tried to give it thought. “My arm hurts. But I ate. The pizza was good.”

  “I’m really glad to hear that.”

  “Maybe I won’t be up to carrying a lot, but I-I’d really rather go out with you and see everything.”

  “Of course.”

  Cameron gave Ezra a thankful smile and went to grab his shoes and coat. Then they went outside together into what turned out to be a full-blown snow storm.

  Cameron was horrified. “I’m so sorry I made you drive in this.”

  Ezra waved it away. “It didn’t really start up until a few minutes ago. Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t bad at all for most of the drive.”

  “Still.” God, thank fuck Cameron had gotten those new tires.

  “What’s done is done,” Ezra said easily. “Why don’t you pick what you want me to bring in?”

  That, at least, was easy enough. Cameron’s backpack was almost always packed full of everything he wanted on him at all times. All the most important parts of his life. And he kept the rest of his stuff organized, because it mad
e it easier to live in a tiny space when everything had a place. For instance, all his clean clothes and toiletries lived in a duffel bag, to streamline grabbing things to change into at the gym. There was a drawstring bag for dirty clothes for laundry trips. And so on.

  That was one thing Cameron was glad of: Ezra hadn’t had to see a dirty car, or one full of mess. Cameron took care of his space.

  He went around to the rear of his car and opened the door to move aside the blanket he had draped over the seats, covering his stuff. His backpack was sitting on the floor of the car, unassuming, right where he had left it.

  “The backpack and this duffel,” Cameron said, pointing to the both of them. “But I can take one, if it’s too much. My right arm is fine.”

  Ezra gave him a flat look before he reached into the car to grab both items. “What part of ‘no heaving lifting’ didn’t you get?” But his tone was fond.

  “My right arm is fine,” Cameron repeated stubbornly.

  Ezra huffed a laugh, part exasperated, part amused, as they headed back to the house. “You are the most dogged person I’ve ever met. But for my sake, can we please acknowledge the fact that you got seventeen stitches barely eight hours ago and you need to take it easy?”

  Cameron pursed his lips.

  Ezra shook his head. “I’m not going to win this one, am I?”

  Cameron stomped off his boots in the entryway. “I can’t give myself a pass every time something bad comes up. I’d never get anything done.”

  “I understand.” Ezra sighed and hefted the bags. He started making his way to the back bedroom. “I doubt you’ve ever had it easy in your life. It must be a foreign concept.”

  “I’ve gotten by okay,” Cameron said quietly, pushing the guest bedroom’s door open for him.

  “I know. I know you have. I said it before; you’re incredibly strong.”

  “But?” Cameron prompted, as Ezra set the duffel and backpack on the desk.

  “But nothing. You’re incredibly strong, full stop. I just… I just wish you were able to slow down a little.”