Werewolves of Chicago: Howard: The Underdog

by Faleena Hopkins

  Alisa melts, and I know that I’ve lost her to a loyalty of years I can’t compete with. She doesn’t know we are meant to be with each other. She can’t see that yet. Lynne’s right, she just met me. All she sees is that she can’t throw away a friendship because of one fantastic night.

  “Of course I’ll go with you,” she quietly says. “Of course I will!” She hugs her. “Let me just say goodbye.” Releasing her, Alisa walks into my arms. I crush her to me, my chest aching in disbelief, eyes flashing to Xavier. His jaw is clenched, his beard ticking. Draik and Curragh are watching from under heavy brows, arms crossed.

  “Let me drive you back,” I whisper into the blue hair I love so much.

  “No!” Lynnie loudly objects. “You’ll talk her out of it. You’re not driving us anywhere.”

  “NO, I won’t try to talk her out of it. I just want to spend more time with her.”

  Alisa looks up at me. “Ohio’s not that far away. We can call each other and come visit, and…” she trails off, tired and resigned.

  “I’ll call you every night,” I tell her, hoarse with anger. To her friend, I say, “Look, you’re wrong about me. But I can’t force you to see that. And I won’t let Alisa go with you...” she starts to object, but I cut her off, “…without protection. Draik, can you take them for me?”

  “We both will,” Xavier offers, walking forward with our Nordic packmate. “We will all stay in two’s or more from now on.”

  I nod and pull Alisa to me again, kissing her. She throws her arms around me and I can feel the pounding of pain and loss vibrating from her chest into mine. “Fuck,” I groan as she pulls away. I’m shaking my head repeatedly as my wolf snarls and paces. Forcing my feet to stay locked right here I watch them leave, Draik and Xavier throwing me sympathetic and irritated looks before they go.

  Curragh and Kara ask me to join them on the couch. Walking over, I’m in a daze. Every cell in my body wants to shift, grab her and bring her back here, to stay with me until we fucking die. That’s how it’s supposed to be. “This is such bullshit.” I collapse onto one of the worn leather chairs, my head in my hands as I hunch over.

  “If she’d have stayed…” Kara gently says.

  “She wouldn’t have been a good friend, or a good person, I know!” I close my eyes and start rubbing my scalp. “It doesn’t make it easier. And her fucking friend played the loyalty card on purpose.”

  Kara says something else, but my ears have just picked up the unmistakable sound of the heavy industrial door closing on the first floor. “She’s gone,” I rasp, unable to believe it. Fire launches into me and a growl rips from my lungs, eyes igniting. Curragh shouts something at me, but it’s too late. Xavier’s clothes tear apart as fur springs from my pores, bones cracking and reshaping in an instant as I snarl, racing for the door to get her back. If I can just run fast enough I can make it to the car before they leave.

  In seconds I’m tackled by Curragh’s human form. He’s got me by the neck and is shouting something in my ear I can’t even understand. He starts punching my muzzle, and on the third time I fall over. He pins me until my breathing slows. Finally his words get through. “Down boy. You’ll see her again. It’s okay. Calm yourself. You will see her again.” Then he yells to his wife, “Kara! Hand me a blanket.”

  She rushes over, covering my wolf with it. Panting, I lie with Curragh still pinning me, just in case. My soul aches as I stare at nothing. Wanting him to get off me, I transform back into human flesh and don’t get up for two hours. As soon as I hear them return I fly off the ground, holding the blanket around me, and meet Xavier and Draik as they appear in the front door. “Well?”

  They eye me, and instantly guess rightly at what happened here.

  “We waited until they packed up. They share a car so we helped them shove everything in it to capacity and then…” Draik gets quieter, not wanting to say it. “They did it. They left.”

  “FUCK!” I shout, grabbing my head and getting down on one knee as I stare into a future without Alisa. “What am I gonna do? Xavier! What am I gonna do?!!! I can’t live without her. You don’t understand how this feels. FUCK!”

  He clamps a firm grip on my shoulder. “I don’t know how it feels. I’m sorry.” He inhales and offers his only words of solace. “She repeatedly made me promise to make sure that you’d call.”

  “Of course I will,” I mutter, “It’s not the same.” Shaking my head I pull away from his hold and trudge over to stare out the window. But then I remember I can’t open the curtains in case we’re being watched. Huffing through my nose, I inwardly sneer at the ill-fated twist she and I have been dealt. We could not have predicted how the day would end, when we lay in each other’s arms just this morning. “Maybe her friend is right. Maybe she’d just be in danger being with me.”

  Nobody argues.

  31

  Alisa

  My old room is just as I left it. Not because my parents are sentimental. They’re too wrapped up in their miserable existences to take time to redecorate. It’s a museum to my sad childhood. Posters of The Cure and the Sex Pistols are tattered around the edges, and there’s still a hole in the David Bowie on my door from when Dad threw me into it during one of his drunken fits.

  “Alisa! You’re going to have to make your own dinner tonight,” my mother yells from somewhere in the house.

  I say, under my breath, “What else is new?” plopping onto my bed, the faded black comforter bunching around my legs. Calling Lynnie, she picks up right away. “Hey,” I greet her, curious. Yesterday when we got coffee she didn’t say more than three sullen words to me.

  “Hi,” she mumbles. “How are you?”

  “Since when do you ask grandma-questions?” I joke, but get no response. “I got my old job at the theater back. They were pretty happy to have me. And I finally called Louie and told him I’m not coming back to the club. He swore at me for a full five minutes and then hung up.”

  Silence, then, “Great.”

  “Did you call the psychiatrist?”

  “We’ve only been back a week!” she snaps. “Give me a fucking minute, would you?”

  “Look, I’m not living in the Hyatt like you!” I slam back to her, instantly regretting it. “I’m sorry.”

  She’s quiet, then, “It’s not my fault my family is well off.”

  “I don’t care about the money, Lynnie, I care about the sanity! I’ll be making myself cereal again tonight.”

  “So learn to cook!”

  Seething and trying so hard to remind myself this is a phase she’s going through, I inhale and tug on my hair until my scalp hurts. “Okay, when are you going to call the shrink? Did your parents find out if he’s any good or not? You said they were going to check.” The way I figure it is that as soon as she gets better I can get out of here. I have no illusions that it will be soon.

  “I don’t need a doctor—I just need some time. It was really disturbing!”

  “Which is why you should talk to someone!”

  “I’m talking to you!”

  “Barely.” Exasperated, I lie back, looking at the gray-from-dirt popcorn ceiling I hoped never to see again. Chicago had so much going on, always something to do even if it was just people watching. But who am I kidding. I really just want to go back there so I can see War. I miss him so much my chest aches daily. There’s a weird, sad tingling in my skin whenever I think of him. It’s like my blood is crying. “Lynnie, I’m not a professional. I don’t know what to do here.” She still doesn’t say anything, so I try another tactic. “Tell me something about your day. What’s going on over there? Playing charades, eating steak and drinking pop next to a fireplace?”

  The old Lynnie would have laughed. “My parents are having the Carmichaels over for dinner tonight. Six o’clock.”

  I sit up like a shot. “Edward and Jennifer Carmichael of The Carmichael Foundation?”

  They’re two of the wealthiest people in Columbus and they’re good people, good enough to use
their wealth to give grants to struggling yet promising artists.

  “Yeah,” she mumbles. “They want me to meet Jason or something.”

  “Their fucking son? Are you kidding me? When did your parents make friends with the Carmichael’s?”

  “I don’t really care, Alisa.”

  I stare at my shoddy old dresser and clamp my jaw shut so I don’t tell her she’s being a big fucking baby. Shaking it off, I mutter, “Okay, well, have fun with that.”

  “You’re getting off the phone?” she asks, sounding hurt. Then like a female Jekyll/Hyde, she snaps, “Is War calling on the other line?”

  “What? No! I’m just tired of dealing with your moods, that’s all! That’s enough of a reason to get off this phone call.”

  “You don’t have to be such a bitch.”

  “Oh my God!” I bury my face in the blanket. “You are driving me insane. I’m really trying to be here for you but this is so unfair.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers. More than a little surprised, I straighten up as she adds, “I’m being really selfish.”

  I want to start yelling Hallelujah but I don’t do it. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll see if Mom and Dad mind if you come tonight.”

  My spine crumbles. She meant she was selfish not to invite me. I thought she was meaning her overall actions and attitude. It’s not like she even knew Trevor well, but yeah, seeing some guy who was just inside you, torn apart and strewn throughout your home can have an impact. Just not a lasting one if you’re me, someone who didn’t like the guy all that much. Not that he deserved what happened, I’m just not emotionally attached to any of it.

  Except her—I’m very attached to her.

  “Great. Can’t wait to hear them shoot that one down.” We say goodbye and hang up. I drop the phone and walk to the window, staring out at dusk, my favorite time. Golden street lamps compete with the darkening blue night for space. It’s something that’s always felt magical, but tonight the sight only makes me sad.

  Magical…

  There are supernatural beings and happenings going on in our world for real. And here’s me back to living the mundane existence of avoiding the downstairs so I don’t have to smell the stale beer that’s replaced oxygen in our living room. My father has barely spoken to me since I got back, except to ask why I’m here.

  The phone rings and I glance over then run to grab it when I see War’s name. “Hi! God, you called at exactly the right time.”

  “Hey.” His voice is grim. “How’s it going over there?”

  “It fucking sucks. You?”

  “Same.” I hear him exhale long and low. Over a week of these precious phone calls he’s told me he’s continued to train with his friends. He had to be vague in his descriptions. You never know if someone is listening in, tapping a line. Even if its just the government keeping tabs like they say they never do, but we all know is a lie. But hearing these short and unspecific descriptions just makes me ache to learn more about him, and yearn to be closer. Fingering the wolf pendant hanging from a silver chain around my neck, I tell him, “I got your present.”

  A smile is in his voice as he asks, “It arrived today?”

  “Yes. I love it. Thank you.”

  “I wanted to give you something to remember me by.”

  As if I’d forget. “Thank you. It’s very cool.”

  He exhales, the frustration back as he says, “I want to see you, but I can’t take off work. Strathers announced his retirement and everyone’s chomping at the bit for the promotion.”

  “That’s great!” I walk back to the window. “You’re going to get it.”

  “They think I’m too young, but I’m better than any of them especially with what I can do now. They’ve got some hotshot woman from Atlanta they might be bringing in. Anyway, I have to stay here for now but maybe you can come visit this weekend? I’ll pay for the flight.”

  With my spirits dipping, I tell him, “I just got my old job back at the Ohio Theater here. Boring name, but it really is gorgeous inside. I’ll be working the box office for the opening of Arsenic and Old Lace.”

  “Oh,” he mumbles, then adds with forced enthusiasm. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”

  I don’t want to tell him why I can’t lose the job if I’m going to stay here. It’s too pathetic. “I can’t leave after just talking them into taking me back.” We’re both stay quiet for a little while, depressed but keeping each other company. “War, I’m so sorry.”

  “We can’t help it.”

  Changing the subject, I ask, “How are you able to go to work when you guys had to move? Doesn’t that put you out there?” Meaning Alexander can find him.

  “Nothing will take place in the open. And remember what I told you?” He means the law that wolves can’t kill other wolves. These phone calls have been so hard but I love and need them desperately. I keep thinking he’s going to forget about me. But every day he calls. Still…it’s only been a week. I won’t be surprised when the call does not come.

  “I remember what you said, yes. So you’re safe?”

  “Part of me wishes he would come. But yeah, for the most part, I am.” War’s voice lowers, angered by the subject. “He was sending a message he’s back, and now we’re planning how to move forward. The guys are searching for him. It won’t be long.”

  “Stay safe,” I whisper, watching the light darken outside. A text beep comes through and I look to see Lynnie has gotten the okay for me to join them at dinner tonight. “Looks like I will be having an actual meal tonight.”

  “You’re not going on a date.”

  Chuckling at the crazy thought I say, “Yeah, totally. Hot date. No, stupid! I’m going over to Lynnie’s house for this dinner thing with some big mucky-mucks. Her parents are amazing cooks, so that’s good. But I don’t do well with high-society.”

  “Why not?”

  He’s truly in the dark, which I find adorable and very sweet. “Blue hair. They’re never fans. They’ll smile big and ask to touch it, but their eyes will say what they’re really thinking.”

  “I love your hair.” His voice is deeper and sexy. “I think everything about you is fucking hot.”

  My smile becomes a flirtatious grin as I lean on the windowpane, my dark reflection staring back at me. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” I whisper.

  “God I miss you.”

  “You barely know me.”

  “You keep saying that, but you’ll see I’m not crazy.”

  Laughing lightly under my breath, I say, “Oh you’re crazy alright.”

  He chuckles, and I hear Draik call him in the background. “I have to go.”

  “I know. Call me later tonight if you want? Like before I go to sleep”

  “Midnight then? I will. Bye, Gorgeous.”

  “Bye, Handsome.”

  I wait for him to hang up first and hold the phone to my ear even though the line is dead. I haven’t told him I miss him, too, yet. I’m bad at saying vulnerable things like that. Part of me truly believes I’ll never see him again.

  “The stupid job,” I mutter. “I want to visit him!”

  But I need money if I’m going to live here because I have to eat somehow. Lynnie says I should learn to cook but she apparently doesn’t remember what it’s like in our kitchen and that my dad’s presence in the next room, yelling and cussing out of the blue isn’t really conducive to not burning a meal.

  I tried to stay away from this place as long as I could. And she brought me right back.

  32

  Howard

  One of my packmates has come with me every day to work, hanging out in the back parking lot close by enough to come to my aid if I need it. Xavier meant what he said, we travel in two’s or more now. All of us are on edge. Driving back and forth to the new house is a jagged path, long and never the same.

  Frankly we want to discover someone following us so we can end the suspense. Every trip to our ghetto hideout is strat
egic. We drive slowly. We put ourselves out there in plain sight. We play the music loudly and act like we’re having a good time, so they can ‘catch us unawares,’ or so they’d think.

  But if nothing happens—and nothing has yet—we stealth it up as we get close to where we eat and sleep. We do not want it revealed, but we sure as hell wouldn’t mind running into some Russians on the way there.

  “Yeah Draik?” I ask, sliding the phone in my pocket.

  “How’s she doing?”

  I tell him, “She got a job,” eyes dead. He nods and heads for the door. This house is a wreck. The ceiling has holes in it, the furniture smells of urine except for the plastic chairs in the kitchen we cleaned up. It’s vile, but we deal with it. Kara bleached the hell out of the room she stays in with Curragh. She offered to do the same for ours but he said we could clean it ourselves. I’m going to get around to it when I have some energy. I’ve been dragging my feet, only finding enthusiasm at the morgue when I’m proving my worth. The second I’m off the clock a wet, heavy blanket of disappointment wraps around me again. Underneath it, rage tumbles.

  If Alexander hadn’t chosen that day to tell us he’s back, I’d be moving in with Alisa right about now, after I’d talked her into it. I fucking hate the guy for this. I will bring him down myself if given the chance. My wolf wants nothing better than to rip him to shreds, law or no law.