by Mac Flynn
Chapter 11
I sat there for a moment in silence, a rare thing for me, and contemplated his story. It was all so fantastic, so ridiculous, and yet so sincere. He believed it, and since I'd seen him as a wolf I really had no other choice. "So you've been alone all these years? You never met anyone else like you?"
He sheepishly grinned at me. "I did give that impression, didn't I? The truth of the matter is I met a few others like myself, and some were my companions for a while and others were-well, not so friendly," he admitted.
The intrepid reporter in me made herself known. "So do you ever get sick?" I wondered.
He stood and shook his head. "No, but I believe that's enough questions for the moment. You need to change your clothes and get a bandage around that wound before the mud festers inside it."
"Do you have super hearing, too?"
He knelt in front of me and gently grasped my wounded, pulsing leg in his hands. "This will need a lot of cleaning."
"How high can you jump?"
"Fortunately the bear didn't get to the bone."
"Have you ever eaten someone?"
"You're fidgeting."
"And you're not answering my questions."
"You need to focus on yourself." He emphasized his words by brushing aside some of the blood over my wound. I winced when a stab of pain shot up my arm.
"How is it, doc?" I asked him.
He pursed his lips together. "You may need antibiotics to repel infection."
"With all your wealth you don't happen to own a pharmaceutical company?" I wondered.
"I have stocks in several, but they don't give free samples to their stock owners. Do you have any bandages and disinfectant?" he asked me.
I nodded toward the bathroom. "In there."
He fetched the needed supplies, and in a few moments he had the leg wrapped tight in clean bandages. His eyes fell on my clothing and I noticed his lips twitched. "You should change out of those clothes or a cold will be the death of you."
I nodded at his own soaked clothes, or what remained of them. "You're not exactly dry, either."
He smirked and folded his arms over his chest. "My immortality not only keeps me from aging, but common diseases don't often-achoo!" He winced and rubbed his nose. "Though perhaps a change of clothes would be the best. Did you need any help getting to your bedroom?"
I swung my legs over the side of the couch and tested my weight on them. There was pain, but it held me. "I think I can manage."
"All right. I'll hurry to my home and back." He stood and strode over to the door, but paused on the threshold and turned back to me. "That is, if you want my company after everything you've learned."
I shrugged, but a teasing smile slipped onto my face. "Well, I could use a good fur coat to keep me warm. This uninsulated house gets pretty cold."
He chuckled. "I'll see what I can do when I get back."
The minute Adam stepped outside my brain started screaming at me. There was a lot of 'what are you thinking?' and 'he's going to eat you!' rushing through my head. "Hush, you," I scolded myself. "If he wanted to eat you he would've done it a while ago. Besides, he has that sad story-"
'That's what he wants you to believe! He probably ate the person who's story that belonged to!'
"His breath isn't bad enough to show he has a lean diet of humans, and I'm a little too fatty to eat," I argued.
'Maybe he likes chewy fat!'
"Will you shut up!" I shouted.
The noise echoed through the cabin and someone cleared their throat. I looked to the front door and saw Adam had returned attired in clean clothes. I'd been arguing with myself longing than I thought, or he was just that fast. Or both. I sheepishly smiled at him. "I was-um-just talking to myself."
Adam closed the door behind him and walked over to the couch. "You seem to have an internal dilemma," he commented.
I nervously snickered. "Yeah. Suddenly your problems don't look so bad, eh?" I teased.
He took a seat in the chair close to the fire. "This argument wouldn't happen to be about me, would it?"
"Um, yes," I admitted.
"And what did you decide?"
"That my brain needs to shut up."
He laughed. It was the first time I'd heard him truly laugh. I liked the sound of his ringing amusement as it bounced off the thin walls of the cabin. "You are a very strange woman. Most humans would have run out of here to the nearest non-werewolf neighbor or gone mad after seeing my transformation, but you sit here having a discussion with your mind and telling it to shut up."
I shrugged. "I guess my mom taught me to listen to my heart and not my brain. I wouldn't have bought this place to begin with if I'd listened to my mind."
He scooted to the end of his chair and clasped his hands in his lap. His unnervingly bright eyes stared unblinkingly at me. "What does your mind tell you about me?"
"It's telling me to run screaming from the house," I told him.
He leaned toward me and smiled. His top canine teeth slipped over his bottom lip and glistened in the firelight. "Maybe you should be frightened of me."
I leaned away and frowned. "If you go back on your word about being dangerous I swear to god I'll find my mother's silver fork heirloom in one of these boxes and tickle you to death with it."
Adam chuckled and moved to the back of his chair. "I'm glad to hear you say that. I don't want you to be frightened of me."
I buried myself deeper into the couch cushions. "So what now? I know you're secret, you know my heirloom secret, so where do we go from here?"
He raised an eyebrow and grinned. "There is the bedroom."
I rolled my eyes and slumped in my seat. "Just like a man to be a wolf in sheep's clothing. Anyone, we just met and this human female doesn't put out like a horny werewolf boy."
Adam sighed and leaned back in his seat. He set his elbow on the chair and set his head in his splayed fingers. "That is the biggest conundrum, isn't it? What to do with each other now that we both know what I am."
A devilish grin slid onto my lips. "Well, you could give me the best one-on-one interview ever. It would be the big werewolf reveal," I pointed out.
He chuckled. "I'm afraid I'd demand you file your essay under the fiction category."
I rubbed my chin and furrowed my brow. "You know, that does give me an idea. I've always wanted to write a book. I could write your life story and say it came from my imagination."
Adam lifted his head from his fingers and raised an eyebrow. "My life story as fiction?"
I shrugged. "Life is stranger than fiction, so it'd make a hell of a book, and you did say you wanted to get the story off your chest. Writing a whole book about it would definitely get it off every inch of you."
He chuckled and shrugged. "Why not? I've never tried being a writer. Is it easy?"
"If you know how to b.s.," I told him.
"I'll rely on you finding the necessary manure."
"For a cut of the profits, of course."
"Of course."
"Good, then we have ourselves a deal."
"This doesn't replace our other, more important deal," he reminded me.
I blinked at him. "What deal?"
"The deal to feed me in exchange for repairs. Actually, I may demand you feed me while I tell you the details of my life," he explained.
I snorted. "I think I can live with that if you can live with my cooking." I shifted my weight and winced when my leg complained. "But before we get to writing down your biography there's also my get-out-of-welcome-party-free card here I have to worry about. I'd like to avoid being called Stumpy for the rest of my life."
He chuckled. "You'll be fine, and I'll drive you to the doctor myself tomorrow bright and early."
I cringed. "Not too early. I've had a hell of a night. Learning that loup garous are real really takes it out of a girl."
He stood and moved to stand before me
. "Would you like me to carry you to your bedroom?"
I scowled at him. "No, I would-not!" He scooped me into his arms and swept me into my bedroom. With as much grace as a football player carrying an egg he dropped me onto the bouncy mattress.
I sat up and glared at him. "Will you stop that!"
He smiled down at me. "Not until you're well. If you need me I'll be on the couch."
I threw a pillow at him, but he made it to the entrance and it bounced off the door just as he shut it. "And stay out of my bedroom!" I yelled. The evil sound of laughter floated away from the bedroom door.
I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest. "Damn him for being such a damn babysitter guy," I grumbled.
I went over to my dresser and pulled out my pajamas. As I started to peel off what remained of my carved jeans, my eyes settled on a mirror above the dresser. My reflection stared back at me in all its soaked-white-shirt-is-now-transparent glory. My mouth dropped open and I understood now why he had averted his eyes from my chest. I whipped my head to the closed door. "Why didn't you tell me about my shirt?" I shouted.
"You insisted on hearing my story, now get some rest," he called back.
I yanked my clothes on and stomped over to the bed until my leg reminded me there would be no stomping for a few days. I finished the distance from the dresser to the bed with a limp and lay down for a well-deserved rest. My dreams were filled with pattering rain, howling wolves and gnashing bears. Oh my.
or visit Mac Flynn's website.
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