by Jade Allen
Once Sera was on her feet, she saw the attacker was the infamous Dwight.
“Sera, let’s go,” Stephanie bit out.
“Wait.” She leveled the gun at the man still lying at her feet. “I want an explanation.”
“We don’t have time for explanations,” Stephanie protested.
But Sera wasn’t listening. She didn’t want to hear that. All she wanted to hear was why. Somebody was going to tell her the why of it before she stepped out the door. She grabbed the man by his collar and hauled him to his feet, giving him a good shake, the gun still pointed at his head.
“Dwight, I presume?”
“Bite me, bitch.”
Sera reached without thinking, as though somebody else had taken over her body—a very, very angry somebody. She slammed the gun against Dwight’s jaw and pulled the barrel back, leveling at the spot between his eyes.
“Why attack me? Why fake Aiza’s death?”
“I was trying to save your sister’s life,” Dwight said, his words slurring around broken teeth. “The Brotherhood had to believe she was dead. You got in the way.”
“How did I get in the way?”
“Sera, come on,” Stephanie said.
She heard the panic in Stephanie’s voice and she understood they needed to hurry, but she couldn’t pull herself away from the question. Her life had been flipped upside down and turned inside out. Everything had gone topsy-turvy since the news of Aiza’s death, and now she stood there with a goose-egg developing on her head and a queasy feeling in her stomach and a gun in her hand, and dammit, she wanted to know why.
“You attract the wrong kind of attention,” Dwight said.
Sera wanted to scream. That was no answer. But she didn’t have the chance to force an actual answer. Stephanie shouted and then Seth made a high-pitched sound that might have been a cry of pain. Sera turned to look just in time to see Aiza throw herself at Seth’s bleeding body. Dwight took advantage of Sera’s distraction and tackled her, driving her to the ground. Sera grunted, the air driven out of her lungs, and the world dimming around the edges. For a moment, she thought she would black out, but another howl from Seth pulled her back to reality.
She felt Dwight’s weight shift and realized he was becoming a wolf—a wolf that could rip her throat out. Rip her stomach open. Rip her entire world apart. The gun was still in her hand, and she knew what she had to do. She never once thought of herself as a killer. She’d never imagined herself in this moment or even believed she would ever face the choice between her life and another’s. But this wasn’t about her life. This was about the life of her child. About the life of her lover. This was about the life of her pack.
Once the decision was made, there was no thinking left to do. Only action. She shot her elbow backwards, trying to connect with Dwight’s ribs. The dull thud reverberated through her funny bone, but she didn’t let that slow her down. She did it again, forcing the wolf back only a few inches, but it was enough. She rolled onto her back, lifted the gun, and fired at point blank range.
Sera had never fired a gun at a target. She’d never fired at a living being. She didn’t even know how to aim, but at that distance, she could have fired with her eyes closed and hit the wolf in the face. He made a final yelping sound and then collapsed on her with his dead weight. Sera pushed the corpse away and jumped to her feet, the gun hotter than ever against her palm. She leveled the sites, but she couldn’t get a clear shot at Aiza as she and Seth continued their earlier battle.
Sera was almost ready to shoot anyway when Seth finally struck the final blow, sending Aiza to the ground in a lifeless lump. The second her sister fell, Stephanie scooped Seth up in her arms, unmindful of his size and the blood and raced to the door, pausing for a moment to look back to Aiza’s still form.
“Sera, come on. We have to go now.”
Even now, she wanted to voice a protest, wanted to gather her sister up in her arms and carry her to the nearest hospital.
“Sera!” Seth called her name, and it was only the sound of his voice that pulled her from her fantasy of finally saving Aiza. She let the sound of his voice lure her away from the cabin and she stumbled down the walk after him, groping for him in the darkness. When he caught her, his hands were slick with blood, but his grip was strong and she knew he wouldn’t let her go.
“There’s a truck over there,” Stephanie said. “Hurry.”
Everything became a blur as Sera raced at Seth’s side, hurrying towards their salvation. Seth pushed her into the front seat and Stephanie took the wheel, crowing triumphantly when she located the keys in the visor. Sera allowed herself one last look at the cabin as they sped away. She saw a shadow moving near the doorway, and she found herself hoping it was Aiza’s. She stared until she couldn’t see it anymore, until the cabin fell away from sight, swallowed by the moonless night.
****
Sera called her boss and told her that she would not be returning to work. Her boss begged her to reconsider, asked her if a raise would make her change her mind at all, and finally said with a sigh, “If you ever want to come back, you know where to find us.” She called her landlord next and advised him she would not be renewing her monthly lease, and to keep the security deposit to cover any funds he was entitled to. She called her parents and didn’t tell them anything important—she didn’t mention Aiza, or the Wolf Brotherhood, or even Seth and the baby. She merely stated that she liked it in the northwest, and she would give them a call once she was settled.
After that, she spent a lot of time simply sitting quietly and thinking. Her guilt over her sister’s demise was unquantifiable, even though she knew logically that it was none of her fault. Aiza had been an adult who made her own choices, and yet Sera couldn’t help but think that her sister would still be alive if only she had gone home. If only she had listened to the sheriff when he warned her to let it go. If only she had listened to Seth when he warned her there were not people she wanted to be involved with.
The events in the cabin didn’t make the news. No police came knocking on their door to demand an explanation for all the bodies, and though Seth upped security and warned his entire pack to be on the lookout for Brotherhood members, there was no sign of the biker gang.
“Won’t they want revenge or something?” Sera asked.
“They likely want all of this to go away,” Seth said. “We’ll continue to be cautious, but I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”
But Sera disagreed. They had a lot to worry about. She was growing bigger by the day, and it was only the reality of her child that kept her grounded to earth, kept her eating, kept her sleeping, kept her sane.
“What do you think happened?” she asked Seth one night.
“I think Aiza stole money or drugs or guns from the Brotherhood. Or maybe Dwight did and she was his accomplice. Maybe she even took the fall for it and that’s why they went through all the effort to fake her death.”
“Did you kill her?”
“I don’t know.” Though the words were inconclusive, she knew they were honest.
“I hope she’s still out there. I hope…”
“I know. Thank you, by the way.”
“For what?”
“For putting your life at risk to save mine.”
Sera snorted. “I nearly killed us all with that stunt. I should have stayed home and sat tight, like you said.”
“Maybe. But you know what? Nobody’s ever loved me enough to risk their life for me. You thought I was mad at you, but I wasn’t.”
“You weren’t mad?” Sera asked.
“Of course not.” He kissed the back of her neck and she felt herself relax against the heat of his mouth. “I mean, I wasn’t happy that you would blindly stumble into a dangerous situation, but...I felt better when you were there. I feel good knowing you have my back.”
“I’ll always have your back,” Sera said. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” His hand went to her stomach. “And I
love this little pup. When will you let me make it official?”
“Official? Are you asking me to marry you?”
“I am. I can’t imagine my life without you, Sera.” He paused for a moment, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “Well, what do you think?”
“I think…” Sera took a deep breath. “I think I’d love to be your wife.”
“So that’s a yes?”
“It’s a definite yes.”
“Perfect. Just tell me what you want and it’s yours,” Seth said. “Your dream wedding.”
“My dream wedding?” She could never have her dream wedding, because her dream wedding would include her entire family, but with this man, she’d have the wedding that she never dreamed was possible. And with him at her side, she would have the foundation for a new family. A close family full of love and support and kindness. A family like she never knew before. A pack. “Just as long as I have you, all my dreams will come true.”
As she said the words, she realized how true they were. For as much as she lost, she’d gained the world.
PART THREE
The Wolf Pack’s Revenge
Everything was dark and everything hurt. When she pried her eyes open, there was light, and even the light hurt. Aiza couldn’t locate the center of the pain, nor could she name it, describe it, or understand it. But it was her constant companion as she woke into a bloody, broken world.
She reached for something to hold on to. At first, she found only glass shards, and then finally, the shape of a familiar hand.
“Dwight?” She licked her lips and tried again, with a little more volume. “Dwight? Dwight, is that you?”
No response. Thinking she might have blacked out and missed a word or a twitch of his fingers, she tried again.
“Dwight? Dwight? What happened?”
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to sit up. It was a slow process, but it still made her head spin. When the room finally righted itself, she saw that it was Dwight on the floor beside her.
Dwight was dead. She touched his neck, searching for his pulse. She couldn’t remember exactly where to find the pulse, but he wasn’t breathing and was covered in his own blood. Her gasp boiled over into a quick sob, but she stifled it, swallowing down the tears. She had no tears to shed for him. She cried for the memory of her sister’s face—hurt, bruised, and scared, streaked with tears and blood.
Blood.
She’d made her baby sister bleed. No, she’d done worse than that.
She tried to kill her.
“Oh my God.” Pain forgotten, she scrambled away from Dwight’s corpse and tried to find her feet. Nothing was broken, but she bled from multiple wounds, and red and purple bruises bloomed across her ribs like roses. Her clothes were shredded and her feet had been sliced open on the wreckage of fatal violence.
“Oh my God.”
She had to get out of there. With two bodies already behind her, she didn’t dare get caught with a third—especially since she had no memory of what happened to him. Hell, she had no idea what happened to herself, or what she might have done. If she could attack Sera, she was clearly capable of anything.
There was another sign of a struggle in her bedroom. The sight of the broken chair, the blood on the floor, the dent in the wall—it was all too much. She couldn’t even step past the door. She considered forgoing clothes and shifting into her wolf form, but the thought sent a shudder through her stomach.
A now musty load of clothes forgotten in the washer was her only salvation—a damp pair of jeans and one of Dwight’s flannel shirts hid most of her hastily bandaged wounds. No amount of make-up could cover the black eye or swollen lip, but she still tried.
Dwight’s truck was parked haphazardly in the driveway, keys still in the ignition. Sera’s scent had been strong in the cabin, and she still caught traces in the yard, but after a certain point, it was gone. Clearly, they’d left in another vehicle, and in the distance, she saw lights that may have been them, but she had no hope of catching up.
Even if she did catch up, what would she say? How could she possibly explain? She knew Dwight’s influence had something to do with it, but she couldn’t quite remember what he said—and she certainly didn’t know why. She couldn’t explain herself. She couldn’t explain anything. She just wanted to go home, shower, sleep and face this nightmare by the light of day.
The old truck was a bitch to drive and she was weak from exhaustion. Her adrenaline was enough to get her on the road, but not enough to sustain her, and more than once, the wheel jerked from her hands. She tried to correct it, but in her panic, she over-corrected and felt the tires skid from the smooth pavement to the rough gravel.
Another rough yank to the wheel almost had her back on the road, but a post stood between her and the pavement. The truck slammed to a hard stop, yanking her forward.
The next thing she heard was a tap on the window. Blinking up against the light, she tried to make out the face on the other side of the glass, but she couldn’t see anything behind the glare.
“Ma’am? Ma’am? Are you okay?”
“I...I don’t know. I think so.”
He pulled the truck door open and she fell out rather than stepped out. Directly into his arms. Her fingers closed around his leather jacket, and gradually, her breathing returned to normal. But her heart still thudded in her ears, and her tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks. Normally, she would not allow herself to sob pathetically in a strange man’s arms, but being completely overwhelmed physically, mentally, and emotionally, she didn’t have the wherewithal to break free and stand on her own two feet.
Gradually, the tears slowed, then stopped, and finally she could breathe normally again. Only then did he gently hold her away from him.
“I’m sorry about that,” she said, trying to wipe her nose. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. You can...I’ll just call…”
He produced a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it into her palm. She offered a watery smile of gratitude before wiping her eyes and nose.
“What’s your name?” The man asked.
“Aiza Simpson.”
“Simpson?”
Aiza nodded.
He gently touched the side of her cheek. “You’re hurt. I can take you to the hospital…”
“No,” she said quickly. “No hospitals. I’m fine. I promise.”
“This shiner didn’t happen just now, did it? Did somebody attack you?” His face was creased with concern, his voice full of worry, and his eyes so sincere that she wanted nothing more than to trust him. But she was only in this situation because she had trusted the wrong man in the first place, and her heart was already starting to harden against the stranger’s charms.
“I...my boyfriend....attacked me. He just went crazy and I thought he was going to kill me.” She buried her face against the man’s chest, cooling her flushed cheeks on his rain-dampened jacket. “So I...he’s...I fought back and he fell and I...I took his truck…” The lie came easily, fueled as it was by necessity. “Please, he might be coming after me. I need to get out of here. I need—”
“Ms. Simpson, you need to get to a hospital. I’ll drive you to the emergency room. Come on.” He guided her to the passenger door of his car and assisted her inside.
“No! I mean...I’m scared that’s where he’ll look for me. If you could just give me a ride to a hotel or something—”
“I can take you somewhere safe. Not fancy, but safe.”
Aiza looked behind her shoulder to the old truck. The pole dented the bumper, but she was sure she could still drive it. The question was, did she even want to drive it? She’d lost control of it once; who could say she wouldn’t lose control again? And if she did, she might do a lot worse than hitting a random pole at low speed. She might hit a tree the next time. Or a person. And she sure didn’t need another life on her conscience.
He took her silence as accession and led her by the arm to his car. The motor was still running and the interior was warm
and comfortable. She sighed and leaned back in the seat, letting the warm air dry her tear-stained cheeks and rain-soaked hair.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” Aiza said once he slid behind the wheel.
“Noah Longtail.”
“Nice to meet you, Noah.” She looked over her shoulder. “What about the truck?”
“I can call for a tow truck.”
“I...” She hated that ugly thing. What did she need it for? She doubted anybody would bother to steal it—and if they did, good riddance. If not, it could rot there just like Dwight. “I’ll have a friend take care of it in the morning.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital? We’re not far.”
“I’m sure. I promise if I start to feel light-headed or anything I’ll tell you and you can take me right to the emergency room.”
He nodded. “Fair enough.” He gestured at the radio. “You can put on something, if you’d like.”
She accepted the kind gesture and searched through the stations for something, but none of the music was soothing and all the commercials were loud and jarring. She flicked the dial off and stared out the window. She was sure he would have more questions for her once they stopped. Questions she wouldn’t want to answer. Questions she didn’t even know how to answer.
Would he be so nice to her when they discovered Dwight’s dead body? Or Butch’s? Or Franklin’s? She knew she didn’t kill Dwight, but the circumstances didn’t look good. They didn’t look good at all.
Oh, I’m fucked.
Fear stabbed through her, sharp enough to make her cry out. She tried to swallow down her sob before he heard—but he definitely heard it.
