(Mis)fortune (9 page)

By midmorning, the day seemed to drag.  I loved my brothers, but never having spent so much concentrated time with them before, I began to feel a little short-tempered when dealing with them.  Aden seemed especially whiny in the sun so I moved him to the shade.  There he threw a fit because I didn’t make Liam join us.  After I called Liam over to appease Aden’s sense of fairness, they just fought.

Taking a calming breath, I suggested they come in to help with lunch.  It turned into an argument over who should pick what we’d eat.  I settled it by making slightly smashed peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.  They both looked down at the mangled food on their plates and said nothing. Their internal sensors had finally warned them to save themselves by remaining mute.

I opened the windows throughout the apartment and the French doors in the kitchen to allow a breeze while they ate quietly.  Before they finished, I decided I needed more quiet time and plugged in a movie.  However, paint fumes from the apartment next door gradually permeated our living room, and the boys started begging to go outside.  I agreed and trudged after them.

By the time Jim pulled into the driveway, I wanted to rip the keys from his hand and drive to the mountains.

“Rough day?” he called from the truck with a smile.

I nodded, not trusting what I’d say if I opened my mouth.

“Me, too.  Want to go out for a drink?” he asked as he dropped next to me on the porch step.

I turned and gave him an are-you-stupid stare.  I wasn’t opposed to alcohol, but leaving the boys completely alone while I consumed it—no matter how annoying they were—was not going to happen.

He grinned and stood just as I heard footsteps rapidly descending the stairs inside.

“Let me know if you change your mind,” he said.

He walked in as Emmitt stepped out.  Emmitt gave Jim a dark look as they passed each other, but his expression cleared when his eyes fell on me.  He sat next to me, and my stomach danced while my heart stuttered.  A solid smear of brown paint decorated the side of one of his hands.  Tiny speckles of white paint coated his hair.

“Want to watch another movie with me?”

I agreed without hesitation.

Inside, I heard a shower turn on.  Seconds later, Jim began to sing.  Emmitt’s expression changed, appearing more guarded.

“Let’s watch it upstairs,” he suggested.

*    *    *    *

I sat on the lumpy couch with a relieved sigh.  The door to the apartment remained open.  I could faintly hear Jim’s baritone, and Aden’s answering giggle as the group made cookies in Nana’s kitchen. It was enough noise to know where they were but not enough to bring on a twitch.

Emmitt popped in a movie he’d borrowed from Nana and, still colorfully adorned with paint, joined me on the couch.  This time, I focused on the movie and relaxed...or tried to.  My insides continued to go funny around Emmitt, and it proved as distracting as my worry about Blake.

An hour and a half later, I frowned at the rolling credits and wished for another thirty minutes.  “I made grape drink at lunch,” I said, standing.  “Want some?”  I just wanted to stall going back downstairs.  I still felt out of control emotionally and wasn’t ready to take on my brothers again.

He nodded, lips twitching, and I moved to the kitchen to pour a glass.

“Were they that bad today?” he asked from behind me.

I wrinkled my nose.  Either Jim told him, or he’d witnessed my reactions to them at some point throughout the day.  At least he hadn’t noticed my other freak-outs.

“No.  I’m just not used to being around them so much.”

“How much time are you used to spending with them?”

I shrugged, determined not to say more, and turned to hand him his glass of purple, flavored water.

He didn’t take the glass.  Instead, he reached out and tenderly tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

A girl stood in a busy, mall food court.  She wore heavy makeup.  The girls with her talked and laughed.  She smiled but didn’t stop scanning the crowd.  Dark shadows circled her eyes.  I guessed she was younger than she appeared.  Probably sixteen or seventeen.  It seemed as if she wanted to hide her youth behind the makeup and clothes.

Her skittish gaze began to make me nervous.  I looked around, trying to figure out what she searched for.  I saw in the food court clearly, but the shops further away faded into a haze.  I wondered what it meant that I could only see the immediate area in these visions.

Looking closely at the area visible to me, I spotted a man watching her from across the food court.  He appeared several years older than she did.  She hadn’t noticed him, yet.

He pulled a phone out of his pocket and dialed a number.  I could hear his end of the conversation clearly even over the distance that separated us.  It would have been impossible in the real world, but perhaps in my vision world I could hear anything I could see.

“Gabby, I found her, but—” He stopped and listened, never taking his eyes from the girl.  “Yes.  I understand you think she’s important, but she’s not even eighteen.  How am I supposed to get her to come with me?”  He paused again.  “Fine.  You better be there when we get there.”  He hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket.

I became aware of the present and Emmitt’s thumb softly trailing across my cheek.  My heart skipped a beat, and I struggled to breathe.  He stood so close. Friends, I reminded myself.

“What are you thinking about?” Emmitt asked.

I took a slow breath.  “Nothing.”

He dropped his hand, and his eyes searched mine.  “We all have our secrets, Michelle.”

I wanted to snort in disbelief.  What secret did Emmitt have that could possible rival the laundry basket of secrets I carried?

He continued to watch me then frowned slightly.

“I want to show you something,” he said slowly as if just making up his mind.  “My secret.”  He moved half a step back and held out his arm.  “But I don’t want it to freak you out.  I just want you to see you can share your secrets with me.  I want you to be happy here.”

I doubted knowing any secret of his would encourage me to reveal mine, but I dutifully looked down anyway.  He had nice hands.  Strong hands.  A light dusting of hair covered his corded forearm.  How could looking at someone’s arm make my stomach go crazy?  I struggled to focus.  At first, I thought I needed to find a tiny hidden tattoo or something.  As my eyes searched, I noticed his arm hair change.  It grew longer and thicker.  Startled, my gaze flew to his.

“You can make your hair grow?”  My gaze flitted to the hair on his head.  It didn’t look any longer than it had a moment ago.

“Sort of,” he said lowering his arm.  “There’s more.”  He pulled back his lips in a parody of a huge smile.

I stared at Emmitt’s elongated teeth in horror.  Panic bloomed.  Clutching the glass in my hand, a growling scream erupted from my throat, and I drew back my arm to throw the glass at him.  At the same time, I lifted a knee and clipped his groin.  He dropped like a stone before I launched the glass.

Eyes wide, I looked down at his prone form.  He had closed his eyes, and his gritted teeth still exposed his canines.  I couldn’t look away from them.  Panting, I tried to make myself move.  Run.  Run!  RUN.  The word echoed in the cavern of my mind until I broke free of my paralysis.  I dropped the glass and sprinted for the door, clearing it as the glass shattered and Emmitt grunted.

How many of these things existed? 
Protect the boys.
  Was this all just a game? 
Protect the boys.

I sprinted down the stairs, taking three at a time in my panic and almost fell.  Jim met me a few steps from the bottom. He held both hands out in front of him, palms toward me.

“Michelle, it’s okay.  We can explain.”

No, not him.  Of course him.  They were brothers.

“God,” I whispered, skirting around him.  My eyes darted to Nana’s door, which stood slightly ajar.

He let me pass, but his eyes flicked up the stairs.  I didn’t turn to look.

Reaching the bottom, I pushed the door the rest of the way open.  Both the boys sat on the couch.  They remained focused on the movie still playing, unaware of the danger.  My sudden appearance didn’t disturb them.  Nana however, stood waiting for me just inside the door.  Her stance partially shielded them from my view.

“Michelle, let’s talk in the hallway,” she said calmly.

My heart hammered in my chest.  They would not take the boys from me.  I braced myself, ready to fight, but didn’t get a chance.  Fingers curled around my biceps and pulled backward.  Nana stepped forward and nudged the door shut, closing her in with my brothers as I bumped against a hard chest.  I struggled until I heard Emmitt’s voice.

“Please,” he whispered, holding me firmly.  “Let me explain.”  His breath tickled my ear.

Eyes wide, I panted in fear and wondered what he’d do in retaliation for the kneeing.  A tear leaked from the corner of my eye.  I stared at Nana’s door and tried to think.  There had to be a way to get them out safely.

“Shh,” he soothed, running a hand down one arm.  “You’re still safe.  I promise.”

I used his distraction and loose hold as an opportunity to elbow him in the ribs.  It hurt my elbow.

He grunted again but didn’t let go.  Instead, he leaned in closer, his nose touching the tender place just below my ear.

“Please,” he whispered.  His lips brushed the lower part of my neck.

A tremor ran through me in response.  I froze, holding my breath at my reaction.  It didn’t fall in line with my let’s-not-be-friends-because-I’d-rather-unman-you attitude I’d had upstairs.  I struggled to think past the mind-numbing panic.

His exhale tickled my skin as he pulled back slightly and trailed the tip of his nose around the shell of my ear.  All thought stopped.

“I’ll take every knee, elbow, or fist you throw at me because it means you’re still here, and I still have a chance to explain.”

I couldn’t make myself move.  I didn’t know how to fight like this.  What was he, and why did I react to him?  It was too unnatural.  A sob escaped, and I shook in his arms.

“No,” he whispered fiercely as he turned me to face him.

I braced my hands against his chest, trying to put space between us.  He didn’t seem to notice.  He cradled my face and touched his forehead against mine.

“Please,” he whispered.  “Give me a chance.  Give me time.  I’m different, but nothing to fear.” Desperation laced his words.

Nothing to fear?  He was everything I feared.  How soon before they called Blake?  When would he show up to gloat over my stupidity?

“I want my brothers,” I said in a broken whisper.

“Of course.  Nana only wanted to protect them.  She didn’t want them to see you like this and worry.”

The disbelief I felt showed on my face, but his earnest expression didn’t change.  I experimentally pulled away, and he reluctantly dropped his hands.  Warily, I watched him as I put distance between us.  He straightened and met my gaze steadily.  Clotted blood adorned his forehead.  Remembering his forehead pressed against mine, I reached up and wiped my face free of tears and potential blood.  Emmitt was right; I didn’t want the boys to see me like this, but I wouldn’t leave them in there, either.

I darted a glance to the side and saw Jim sitting on the steps.  For the first time ever, he neither teased nor smiled.  His sad and concerned gaze tracked my moves.

Angling myself so I could see them both, I reached out to rap my knuckles on the door.  It immediately swung open.  Nana had a hand on each boy’s shoulder.  Gently, she pushed them toward me.  Aden and Liam stepped out and curiously looked at the adults around them.  I extended my hands and only felt moderate relief when their fingers curled around mine.

Now what?  Emmitt watched me.  I could still feel his lips on my neck and shivered.  I doubted he would let me walk out the front door, but I debated trying.  If I would get just one chance, I needed to plan.  I was good at waiting...as long as Liam and Aden were safe.

I nudged Aden toward the steps, steering him to the side to give Jim wide berth.  Liam trailed behind.  I didn’t take a decent breath until we reached Emmitt’s apartment.

The boys remained unusually quiet as I cleaned up the glass, fed them dinner, then got them ready for bed.  I considered trying to sneak out with them that night, but Jim still had the truck keys.  We wouldn’t get far without a vehicle.  So, instead of running, we crawled into bed together, and I took comfort in their little bodies pressed against me.  Aden tangled his hands in my hair, again.

I waited until they both slept soundly before I let my tears of frustration fall.

When I woke, my head ached from too much crying the night before.  I hadn’t planned to fall asleep.

Both boys still snuggled beside me, oblivious.  Weak light peeked around the window shade.  Rain tapped on the roof in a steady rhythm.

Sneaking from bed, I checked the clock in the kitchen.  Not that time really mattered.  I listlessly sat on one of the stools and dropped my head into my hands.  At least in this prison, they allowed us to go outside, I thought.

A soft knock startled me, and I spun around on the stool.  I stared at the door, wondering if they’d already called Blake.  The bubble of safety I once felt no longer existed.

The knock sounded again, making me flinch and forcing me off the stool.  I drifted to the door.  Fear weighted my stomach as I set my hand on the knob.  I wanted to cry again.  Instead, I pulled the door open.

Emmitt stood in the hall.  Freshly showered, he still didn’t look like he’d slept or shaved.  He took in my puffy, red eyes with a quick glance and stepped into the apartment without invitation.

“Michelle,” he breathed.  “I’m sorry.”  He wrapped me in his unwanted embrace.

I didn’t have a chance to fight his touch as I slipped into another premonition.

I stood in an empty bedroom.  A king-sized bed with a white, down comforter monopolized the space.  Two towels sat on the bed. Folded into the shape of swans, they faced each other to form a heart with their heads and necks.  A black, white, and brown abstract painting hung on the wall above the bed.  To the left, long black and brown patterned curtains dominated the wall.

Emmitt strode through the door on my right.  In his arms, he cradled a woman dressed only in a robe.  They were completely lip-locked.  Emotions warred in me, mostly my physical attraction to him against my good common sense.

Then, I realized he carried
me
and gasped.  My fingers tangled in his hair, fisting it to hold him in place.  The groaning noise the other me made caused me to blush in embarrassment.

When Emmitt gently laid me on the bed, I tried to look away, but my gaze drifted back.  Because of my discomfort, I missed what I said, but heard Emmitt’s reply.

“It hurts to wait.”

I watched in shock as I bit Emmitt hard on the neck.

My heart raced wildly as the vision left me.  I’d looked very much in love and happy.  He’d been completely ecstatic when I’d bitten him.  Definitely not how I’d look if someone bit me.

Emmitt still held me in his arms.  I struggled to breathe.  Not because he held me tight.  No, his gentle hold didn’t hurt in the least.  A monster held me.  One I would bite.  Were these visions really the future, or were they a warning?

“Give me three weeks,” he said, oblivious to what I’d just witnessed.  “Stay.  Give me a chance.  Get to know me.  If you can’t accept me after three weeks, I will help you go wherever you want to keep you safe from whatever you’re running from.”

I pulled away at his words, and he let me go.  Taking a step back, I put space between us.  Did he really not know?  He watched me calmly, his expression not revealing his thoughts.  I looked down at the floor, my mind working quickly.

Blake’s teeth elongated.  So did Emmitt’s.  Emmitt had shown me more, though.  Could they be different?  No.  I didn’t believe in that much of a coincidence.  How could two people do the same thing and not be the same?

If I didn’t believe in coincidence, then meeting Emmitt at the diner had been a setup.  But how could it?  I’d driven randomly.  Granted, they’d tracked my car, but how could they know where I’d stop.  And, Emmitt had been halfway through his meal.

I remembered the way he’d looked at me.  He’d frozen in surprise as much as I had.  I started thinking of the things he’d done since we’d met.  He’d helped us run, found us a place to sleep, offered us a place to stay, bought us toothbrushes, watched movies with me, played with the boys, built a swing set, and made me feel safe.  None of that matched with what I knew of Blake and his men.  They wouldn’t have done anything remotely nice like Emmitt had.  I told Frank to stuff himself and ended up pinned to a wall.  I kicked and elbowed Emmitt, and his only response was to hold me gently while he had begged me to listen.

I peeked up at Emmitt’s solemn face.  Perhaps, if there were a lot of them out there, he really didn’t know Blake.  Though part of me worried that there might be an untold number of them in existence, I also realized that abundance might work to my advantage.  Emmitt could truly be the help I needed.  Could I learn something useful from him?  Learn what I was up against?

Before I grew too hopeful, the memory of the last premonition swamped me, and my insides twitched as if I’d consumed too much caffeine.  If I stayed, would that be my fate?  To be with Emmitt?

“What are you?”  I asked, afraid of the answer.

He smiled slightly, maybe nervously.  “The most common name would be werewolf, but we’re not the ones from legend.  Not really.”

Werewolf.  I recalled those men as they sat at the dinner table, ate, and eyed me hungrily.  The details of my past four years scared me.

Emmitt continued a quiet litany of his characteristics unaware of my train of thought.

“We change when we want to, mostly as a defense, not because of the moon.  We eat like everyone else.  Pancakes rank as my favorite food in case you haven’t noticed.  We’re the same as humans, but enhanced.  I hear better, see better, can move faster, am stronger, and heal rapidly.  And I’m not an organ donor for obvious reasons.”

I blinked as I remembered I’d noted that fact when I’d looked at his driver’s license.  Did he see everything?  He watched me closely, now.

I hated not knowing what to do.  A premonition about his alliance, or lack thereof, to Blake would have been better than the soap opera I’d witnessed.

Behind me, I heard Aden softly call my name.

“It’s supposed to rain today,” Emmitt said quietly.  “I pulled a few more games from the basement if you want me to bring them up.”

I shook my head.  I wanted nothing from any of them, not now, maybe not ever.  He gave me one last look then left, closing the door softly.

Rubbing my puffy eyes, I contemplated the closed door.  Did the premonition change my determination to leave?  No.  Maybe.  The way he acted confused me.  I sighed and turned to look at Aden who hovered in the hallway.

“I’m hungry.  Can we go by Jim’s?” he asked hopefully.

“Not today, buddy.  Let’s eat breakfast up here.” 
So I can plan a way out for all of us
.

Liam stumbled into the kitchen as I poured cereal into two bowls.  While they crunched, I dressed and cautiously slipped through the French doors onto the porch.

Rain fell lightly on the roof.  Dry under its protection, I leaned over the railing to look for my truck.  It sat next to Nana’s car.  So tempting, yet not.  Emmitt’s secret terrified me, but
he
didn’t.  Why did he have to be one of them?  I was either living in the safest place or the second most dangerous.  If they truly didn’t know about Blake, who better to help me?  Emmitt’s litany of strengths rang in my ears.  And if they did know about Blake, or were working with him, this was still better than Richard’s house.

Still looking at the truck, I frowned.  Jim should have taken it to work already.

“I wouldn’t have told you,” Jim said softly, walking around the corner of the house.

Startled, I whirled to face him.  He wore a sad smile.  Seeing him didn’t send a shock of fear through me as it should have.  It was hard to fear someone who always teased or laughed.

“I would have waited for the fear in your eyes to leave.  I would have given you a chance to know me better.”  He leaned on the rail beside me looking out at the yard.  “But not telling you felt like a lie to him.  And he couldn’t stand lying to you.”

I looked at Jim then glanced at both ends of the porch, wondering who else hid just around the corners.

“It’s just me,” he assured me.  He nodded toward the garage below.  “He’s in there.”

The door gaped open, but I couldn’t see anything within the shadowed interior.  It didn’t matter, though.  I knew whom he meant.

“So, are you going to stay?” he asked bluntly.

I thought about asking for the keys.  “Why should I?” I said instead.

“Because whoever you’re running from is still out there.  Here, you’re safe, whether you believe it now or not.  Because we care about you...
he
cares about you.”

A part of me did a tiny little cheer hearing that.  Still, I worried what it meant.

Jim straightened his full height and looked me in the eye with a stern and serious expression.  “Can I have some cereal, too?”

Through the doors, Aden shouted his approval.  I slowly nodded, coming to terms with several facts.

First, Blake
did
still lurk out there somewhere.

Second, the actions of an individual or even a handful of individuals within a race...er, species...shouldn’t be used to pass judgement on the entire species.  That didn’t mean I was willing to risk the safety of my brothers by trusting Emmitt, Jim, and Nana.  Yet, I couldn’t ignore the fact that they’d given me no reason not to trust them other than showing me they grow fur, too.  Blake, on the other hand, had given me so many reasons not to trust him.  And, that was before he had even shown his fur.

If Blake and the people here were the same, would it be wise to pass up the opportunity to learn about their kind while we were still relatively safe?  Between the opportunity to learn more, the potential protection they could offer, and the way we’d been treated so far, the reasons to stay outweighed the reasons to leave.  But, not by much.

Lastly, maybe I wanted to stay because I was curious about Emmitt and the vision.

I joined the boys inside and watched them laugh when Jim fished out a mixing bowl as his cereal bowl.

He stayed with us for the rest of the morning, acting as an indoor jungle gym.  The boys climbed all over him, used him as a horse, had him hold blankets while they built a fort, fed him, of course, then settled down to watch fuzzy cartoons with him.  The rain continued to fall.  Without Jim, I would have gone crazy with their energy.

I watched how he interacted and reacted to the boys’ antics.  In his eyes, I saw the typical amusement but also concern when Liam accidently rolled into Aden, causing Aden to cry.  He acted nothing like Blake.  Heck, he acted nothing like David who was
human
.  It helped further ease my concern about my lost determination to leave.

Before lunch, Jim apologized and said he needed to go back downstairs.  With sad eyes, we all watched him go.  Werewolf or not, I was glad he’d spoken to me, and I was glad he’d stayed.

The afternoon progressed slowly with Aden and Liam requiring all of my time and attention.  My annoyance with them bubbled to the surface again, as it had the day before.

They fought, whined, and pouted their way to just before dinnertime when it finally stopped raining.  Not caring about wet grass or mud, I nodded when Aden asked to go outside then sat in the middle of the retired warzone.  Lunch shrapnel still stuck to the counters.  Overturned stools blocked the hallway to the bedrooms.  Cushions from the sofa littered the floor.

Jim found me in the same spot fifteen minutes later.

“Rough afternoon?” he asked grinning.

“I think I’m ready to start drinking,” I tiredly joked as I threw a cushion closer to its home.

“I’ll make you a deal.  You cook me something, and I’ll watch the kids for you.”

“Deal.”  I didn’t care if I just made a deal with the devil.  I’d lock Aden in a room myself if I had to spend another ten minutes with him.  As soon as I had that thought, I felt horrible.

Jim ducked back into the hall and bellowed downstairs that I would make dinner.  Then, he disappeared, leaving me with my guilty thoughts.  Outside, I heard faint, childish cheering.  I drifted to the porch and watched Jim run out the door and chase Aden and Liam around the swing set.  Jim’s low laugh reached me on the third story.  It didn’t feel fake.  He enjoyed spending time with them.  These people seemed so
real. 
Please let them be just as they seem.  Please don’t let them turn out to be like Blake.  I turned away from their play, an act of trust that filled me with apprehension.

After straightening the apartment back to its original state, I went to the refrigerator to examine the ingredients.  Whatever I made, I needed a lot of it.  I wondered if Jim’s and Emmitt’s appetites had to do with what they were.

For dinners with Blake, he’d always provided me with a strict menu along with the required quantities, expecting me to cook it all.  The largess made more sense now as did his pickiness.  I’d learned to hone my cooking skills after he’d criticized my first few attempts.  He’d smelled the hint of scorch on a batch of biscuits even though I’d thrown away the burnt ones.

I opened the freezer and pulled out the five-pound package of ground beef to start it defrosting.

“Can I help?” Emmitt asked from the door.

My stomach flipped with joy at the sound of his voice.  I glanced at him.  He casually leaned against the wall just inside the door, watching me with a wary, yet hopeful, gaze.