Captured By The Shifter

by Juniper Hart

  “Of course not,” Lara lied. “You just startled me.”

  Oh my God, Summer thought. She’s becoming an abused dog. The next step is Stockholm Syndrome, if she isn’t there already.

  “Lara—”

  “Listen, Summer, I’m getting tired of you telling me about Alex. If you don’t want to live like this, then move out. I can’t force you to stay, but if you keep bugging me about my boyfriend, maybe this isn’t the best living arrangement for us. I want a roommate, not a mother.”

  Stunned, Summer stared at her, open-mouthed.

  “What?” she whispered. “Are you telling me to move?”

  Lara stared at her defiantly.

  “I am telling you that I am getting sick and tired of listening to your sanctimonious bullshit. If you’re so unhappy, leave.”

  Summer had never been so hurt in her life, and tears welled up in her eyes as she gazed at her roommate.

  The only reason I have stayed for the past two years is because I wanted to protect her in any way I could. How can she say that to me so coldly?

  Without responding, Summer swallowed the lump in her throat and retreated to her bedroom to change. She half-hoped that Lara would knock on the door and apologize, but she never did.

  Maybe I should leave. It’s obvious that nothing I say or do will make her change her mind about Alex. I bet it was his idea to get me to move. He has his hooks completely in her and I am running my head against a wall here. She seems to hate me for it. It’s time to move on before I make things worse. If I leave now, I may be able to salvage our friendship somewhat.

  Summer changed quickly and did not acknowledge Lara, who had her face stuck in her book when Summer left the house.

  No place in this world is peaceful, she thought mournfully, slipping into her car. I have never experienced calm in my life. It’s time to move on, time to move out. I can’t do anything for Lara if she doesn’t want my help. I should look out for myself for once. I finally have the means to do it.

  Summer decided it was time to go.

  I will tell Lara tomorrow morning of my intention to leave.

  The decision filled her with unexpected grief.

  Chapter Three

  “You’re not really on your A-game tonight,” Tonya commented as Summer spilled a glass of water over the sleek bar. It was the third spill she’d had in two hours.

  “Sorry,” Summer mumbled. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

  “Well, your night is about to get worse,” Tonya snorted, her dark eyes training on the entrance. “I’ll take these assholes.”

  Summer glanced up to where her co-worker was staring and she grimaced.

  “Thanks,” she whispered, turning away, but before she could move, Ty appeared at the counter.

  “Two Buds,” he demanded, taking a seat directly in front of Summer.

  “How about a ‘please’?” Tonya snapped, glaring at him. “Is that word in your vocabulary?”

  “Seriously? What is wrong with the staff in this place?” Ty scowled, and Summer felt a familiar pang of unease filling her.

  Oh, God, no more fighting, she thought as she cringed inwardly. She idly wondered if tonight was going to be the night she cracked. I will just start trying to bite my own ear, running down the street screaming bloody murder. Maybe that will get everyone to shut up for a while.

  Summer entertained the thought, but only for a moment, feeling the tension rising between Ty and Tonya.

  “It’s okay, Tonya. I got this,” she said, changing her mind. She could handle Ty.

  “No!” Tonya insisted. “It wouldn’t kill this jerk off to say please. And buddy, if you hate the service so much, I recommend you take your business elsewhere.”

  “Tonya—”

  Ty turned to Jake, who had followed him inside, his jaw tightening.

  “I’m getting really sick of this shit,” Ty growled. “You deal with these bitches before I deal with them my own way.”

  Tonya’s face became a mask of fury.

  “Did you just threaten me?” she yelled, slamming her fists onto the counter. “Get the hell out of here before I call the cops.”

  “It’s okay!” Summer pleaded. “No need for this. Here...”

  She slid the drinks over the counter and to her relief, Jake stepped forward to accept them.

  “No need for drama,” he agreed, putting a twenty on the counter. “We will be over there peacefully enjoying our drinks.”

  Jake flashed Tonya an apologetic smile, but Tonya was glowering.

  “You don’t owe that dickhead a pass!” she snapped. “We don’t need his business.”

  “It’s okay, Tonya. He’s fine. He’s just moody,” Summer assured her quickly.

  “If he says one more word—”

  “He won’t,” Jake reassured her. “He’s good. Right, Ty?”

  Ty did not respond, storming off toward a booth in the corner as Jake grabbed the beers.

  “What the hell is that guy’s problem?” Tonya snarled. “I’m going to get Bernard to throw them out of here.”

  “No, just leave it, please?” Summer begged. She felt tears of frustration filling her eyes, and Tonya seemed to note her distress. Her face contorted in contrition.

  “Hey, it’s okay. No need to cry about it,” the redhead said quickly. “I’m just trying to keep the peace in here.”

  “They’re peaceful,” Summer replied, gulping back her tears. “Just leave it alone.”

  Tonya seemed torn as she looked between Summer and the two men.

  “Fine,” she relented. “But if he gives us any more problems—”

  “He won’t.”

  Tonya bit back a response and whirled to restock the bar fridge.

  Patrons started filtering in to crowd the small establishment, and for a little while, Summer could forget about everything on her mind. She was distracted by drink and food orders, cleaning and entertaining the clientele.

  When she had a moment to survey the bar, she noticed that Jake and Ty were no longer seated at the booth in the back.

  She exhaled slowly, realizing that the men had left the building.

  One less thing to worry about, she thought, hoping they hadn’t merely left for a smoke. She already found it easier to breathe since noticing their absence.

  “Go take a break,” Tonya told her. “There’s a lull and you look like you could use some air.”

  “No, I’m—”

  “Just go,” she insisted. “You probably won’t get another chance before the night’s over.”

  Not wanting to argue, Summer retreated into the kitchen and out the back door into the alleyway.

  It had cooled off, the late summer heat succumbing to the inkling of autumn, and she inhaled the night air deeply.

  I need to get some sleep, she thought tiredly. I’m not doing anyone any good in this state.

  Rubbing her eyes, she leaned against the brick of the building and scanned the back alley.

  At the far end, near Thayer Avenue, a man was standing in the silhouette of the street lights. At first, Summer thought he was staring at her.

  She quickly determined that his back was to her and she wondered what he was doing there. Not wanting to attract his attention, she crouched back behind the dumpster and simply watched him.

  A moment later, he was joined by another person, and while Summer could not hear what they were saying, she could see them talking.

  They stood close and Summer suddenly recognized the original man as a regular at The Cherry House, but she didn’t know his companion.

  The regular, a man named Rich, drew his companion in close and then the two parted, each heading in opposite directions.

  “Okay, break time’s over. We just got another rush,” Tonya announced, startling Summer from her hiding spot. The redhead peered at her friend suspiciously. “What are you doing crouched down behind the garbage like that?”

  Summer chuckled nervously.

  “I just saw
Rich over there and I didn’t want him to think I was spying on him,” she replied quickly, straightening to her full height.

  “Even though you were spying on him?” Tonya teased, her eyes moving toward the far end of the alley.

  The men were long gone.

  “I didn’t mean to, but he was just standing there when I got out here.”

  “What was he doing?”

  Summer shrugged her shoulders.

  “I don’t know. He met some guy for ten seconds, they hugged and moved on.”

  Tonya’s mouth formed a small line.

  “That guy is nothing but trouble,” she muttered, gesturing for Summer to follow her inside.

  “He’s nice!” Summer protested.

  Rich had always been pleasant and a good tipper. She couldn’t imagine what Tonya would have to complain about with him. Tonya eyed Summer, as if gauging her for seriousness.

  “He’s trouble,” she replied finally as they made their way back into the suddenly hopping bar. “Keep your distance from him. You can’t always judge a book by its cover, Summer. Don’t forget that. Sometimes the nicest people are the darkest inside and vice versa.”

  Summer blinked in surprise, but she didn’t argue. Tonya was much more worldly and wise than her when it came to life in general. Still, Summer couldn’t reconcile the mild-mannered hipster to be trouble.

  “I have no reason to be anywhere near him,” she assured Tonya, and the redhead grunted in response.

  “You better not.”

  I wonder what her problem with him is, she thought, but she didn’t pursue the matter.

  After midnight, the bar slowed its pace again and Bernard approached Summer, who was wiping tables.

  “You can punch out,” he told her, and Summer glanced at him in surprise.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “It’s quiet and Tonya can handle things herself now.”

  “But she was here first and she probably wants to go home. If anyone should clock out early, it’s her.”

  Bernard scowled at Summer, unaccustomed to being questioned by her.

  “Obviously I asked her first, but she said to send you home.”

  Summer turned to look at Tonya, who nodded at her from behind the bar.

  “You look like shit. Go home and get some sleep,” Tonya called.

  Summer didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Instead she nodded slowly, turning to remove her apron from around her hips. She appreciated Tonya’s mothering.

  I must look pretty bad if Tonya’s giving up the opportunity to leave early.

  “Okay,” she whispered. “Thanks.”

  Slowly, she made her way to the back office to collect her purse, but not before Tonya grabbed her arm.

  “Actually, can you throw out the garbage before you go?” she asked. “There’s only two bags and they’re by the back door already.”

  “Of course,” Summer replied, throwing her purse back on the desk.

  She pushed open the fire door, lugging the black bags behind her. They were heavier than they looked, and in her struggle, she accidentally allowed the door to fall closed behind her.

  Great. Now I have to walk all the way around to the front, she grumbled, pulling the lid off the dumpster. The chefs had already left for the night, and unless someone was in the office or kitchen, they wouldn’t hear her knocking.

  She raised one bag into the bin, and she reached for the other one when she heard loud voices piping through the alleyway. Curiously, she poked her head around the side of the dumpster, peering into the night.

  What the heck?

  Rich was being backed into the brick wall of the alleyway by two large men pushing on him. It took Summer several seconds to register who they were, but when she did, she gasped aloud.

  What are Ty and Jake doing to Rich?

  “Get away from me!” Rich yelled. “What do you want?”

  Ty stepped closer to him, his face inches from Rich’s, and Summer could not hear his response.

  “Why are you doing this now?” Rich screamed. “After all this time—”

  Before he finished his sentence, Rich pulled a semi-automatic pistol from his waistband and waved it at Jake and Ty.

  “Get back, assholes,” Rich sneered. “Who are you to tell me anything? I was useful to you when you needed information, though, right?”

  Without realizing it, Summer had crept closer, her heart hammering wildly as she fearfully watched the interaction.

  “Stupid move, friend,” Jake commented lightly. “Put it away. Now.”

  “Get away from me or you’re both dead!” Rich snivelled, his voice high-pitched and terrified. Summer could tell he had never held a gun in his life.

  Ty and Jake exchanged a look, shaking their heads in unison.

  “No, bud,” Jake sighed. “You’re the dead one.”

  Summer watched in horrified awe as the pair of friends seemed to grow before her eyes. Their eyes began to gleam with a yellow hue and fangs appeared through elongated snouts.

  Rich’s face was a mask of terror and he raised the gun to shoot at them, but the creature who had been Ty reached out to smack the firearm from his hand with a claw-laden paw.

  Summer gasped, watching the men she had served fall onto four legs, fully becoming wolf-like beasts, low guttural sounds emanating from their throats.

  Rich turned to run, but there was nowhere for him to go. In seconds, the animals had pounced upon him, the sound of flesh tearing reaching Summer’s ears even from the distance between them.

  Summer’s hand flew to her mouth, stifling a scream. She saw Rich’s hand reach out for the fallen gun as he was being consumed. Half-dead, he raised the gun and fired it blindly into one of the wolves.

  A howl pierced the air, sending chills of fear through Summer’s body, but nothing frightened her more than the rage the shooting seemed to instil upon the two animals. Their attack reached vicious proportions, and Summer tried to stop herself from observing, but she could not rip her eyes away from the horror she witnessed.

  Oh, dear God, please, let it be over, she prayed silently. Make it stop! Make it stop!

  Rich’s choked breathing was abruptly silent, his body lifeless, and the wolves finally stepped back from their prey.

  They stared at one another, a deep silence emanating through the alleyway.

  Summer remained frozen in place, waiting for them to flee, but they continued to gaze into one another’s amber eyes as if silently communicating.

  What are they doing? Summer screamed silently. Oh my God, if they see you…

  Her hands trembled violently and she was petrified she would make an inadvertent noise.

  Summer closed her eyes and counted to ten.

  One, two, three, four, five…

  Something changed in the atmosphere. A cool breeze seemed to stir around her, but Summer could not open her eyes.

  …six, seven…

  The silence was deafening, and Summer felt tears slipping down her cheeks.

  …eight, nine…

  She didn’t have to open her eyes.

  I am watching a bad horror flick. This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real.

  No amount of silent chanting would stave off the memory of what she had witnessed.

  She knew exactly what she was going to see when she allowed her lids to part.

  …ten.

  She was aware she could not stand there trying to block out the scene forever, and slowly, she gulped back her terror and opened her eyes.

  As she had expected, Jake and Ty stood before her as if they had not been wild animals two minutes before. They were an odd combination of wolf and man, their faces depicting human qualities through fur and a snout, their bodies still beast-like as they walked about on their hind legs with broad, barrel chests.

  Summer did not know where to look, how to react to what she was seeing.

  “Hey, hon,” Jake said conversationally. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to come wit
h us.”

  Summer opened her mouth to scream, but Ty slapped a hand over her mouth, growling.

  “You make one sound,” he hissed in her ear, “and I will end you. Do you understand?”

  Summer nodded vehemently.

  But she didn’t understand. She didn’t understand at all.

  Chapter Four

  A slight rain fell as Damon pulled up to the non-descript house on Gary Avenue. The structure was nothing more than a trailer home, rooted to a community, and Nash had lived there for as long as anyone could recall.

  “Who’s there?” Nash yelled out as Damon entered. The younger man poked his head around the kitchen to stare inside. The trailer was in its usual state of disarray, dishes and soda cans strewn about, the worn orange carpet littered with debris.

  Damon wondered how long it had been since anyone had been in to check on Nash.

  “Are you that far gone?” he asked, casually entering the tiny living space and flopping onto a tired wing chair. “Who else would bother to come visit you?”

  “Hmphf,” Nash snorted. “Maybe I was just blocking you out.”

  “Unlikely. I’m your biggest fan.”

  Damon leaned forward and patted the blind man’s hand.

  “How are you?” he asked. “You look thin and the place looks like hell.”

  “Well, my glory days are over, Damon, what can I say? As for the housekeeping, well, I’ll have to take your word on that.”

  “Your glory days are far from over,” Damon replied, sitting back. “How are you feeling?”

  “Blind,” Nash growled. “How am I supposed to feel?”

  Damon stifled a sigh. He hoped that Nash wouldn’t be in his usual state of self-pity, but he could not remember a time when his visits didn’t start on some round of deep depression.

  “You know, sitting around sulking is not going to help your position. Why don’t you come with me tonight? I’m meeting the others,” Damon suggested cheerfully, even though he knew what Nash’s response would be.

  He was a recluse now. He didn’t leave the confines of his home for social gatherings, not even to meet with the pack.

  “The moon is almost full. I can sense it,” Nash muttered. “And I am trapped in this house, reliving my heyday over and over like a broken record.”