25Dumbfounded.
I feel like I'm in 11th grade all over again and I've just entered Mikey's bedroom to find him parading around a dozen youths or so, donned in a pair of bra and knickers. Before that I never realised that owning a pair of Hello Kitty undies could be the cause of a couple twelve years old to stalk you inbetween lessons or be privy to several loud conversations discussing the finer points of getting into your pants. Or "coughing" crude words outside the drama department.
Honestly how many, "Here, pussy pussy," jokes can you make before you're bored stiff? Apparently, a lot.
To give credit to my brother though, he had looked highly uncomfortable at his mates antics and in some cases heavily repulsed. I mean, wouldn't you if you were asked to contribute to a conversation about the best ways to get into your sisters pants? In some cases he even defended my honor, which had been recently lacking thanks to him, when he chucked an apple core at Buddy's head.
Yea. Mikey had a friend called Buddy.
What more can I say?
But whilst that whole experience had been degrading and humiliating beyond belief, the scenario playing under my very nose was a completely different matter.
First up- a pregnancy test? Unless I had unknowingly signed up to Hail All Mary Immaculate Conception Club or HAMICC for short then this pregnancy test wasn't for me. I think I would've noticed a hundred-something pound guy on top of me implanting his seed in my womb and all that bullshit.
A crashing sound behind me shocks me out of my semi-catamose state and I whip my head around to see Josh standing on the threshold. The only thing that even looks broken, is the door still managing to hang in there, by the tenterhooks of it's hinges. For a second, my heart had lept in my mouth and I had thought Josh had a change of heart, and had stormed in here to offer me a ride home. The frosty look on his face said otherwise.
"What are you doing, Axel?" his body language spoke volumes. His hackles were raised.
I spin around again, all traces of sleep thoroughly vanished. So finally I have found out the elusive name of the yob before me...Axel...Like an axe...sharp, concise and always snapping back with cutting remarks...
It suited this hardened guy to a tee, right down to his dangerous blue eyes...
"Josh..." the growl startles me and I snap back to my ex-lover, watching as he glares right back with those chilling eyes. I didn't know whose expression scared me the most at the moment, but if I continued to sit here then I'm pretty sure we'll stay here long enough for me to find out.
Josh didn't seem to backing down from this battle of wills (later to be informed by Ray as "a battle of dominance"). I sense that he wants to win but something seems to be holding him back.
It turns out that something happens to me. Josh looks away first and for a fleeting moment our eyes connect and I pick out emotions storming in a whirpool around in them. Anger, submission, rage. It was almost like he was looking away from Axel's eyes for me.
Axel seems satisfied and he turns his gaze towards me, frowning at the box still remaining untouched in my lap. "Take that with you, you'll be needing it later."
I find the comment strange, but instead of trying to pry into his volatile mind I stand up, clutching the pregnancy kit to my chest. Axel slumps in his chair and for the first time I catch a glimpse of a weary, war-torn misfit tired of the world and it's takings. I'm not fooled for a second. The room is tolerable and adequate but slightly formal. The shelves of books fixated to the far side of the wall laden with ancient chronicles. A chandelier hung high, confirming my fears that we really were in a place where once ballroom dances took place.
"Take her to Ray's room, I'm sure he'll manage sleeping in the bathtub tonight,"
Sleeping in the bathtub?
Josh nods, taking deliberate care to not meet my full frontal stare again. He beckons me with his head to come outside and I trip myself with haste to respond. Our arms nearly touch but Josh, sensing the movement, shuffles to the side making pretense in reaching for the door and closing it.
Then we're in a corridor, all alone and surrounded by a bunch of paintings mounted on both sides of the wall of abysmal landscapes and snoozing ladies or portly gentlemen prancing on ponies. I notice a brackern between each painting alight with a burning torch; sending the whole corridor into shadows and darkness asides the usual flickering of light.
I step closer to Josh, suddenly afraid but again he leans away as if I'm a walking member of the plague. "Follow me," he says roughly before setting off. I subdue my urge to yell "Why?" into the middle of the night.
Ray's room is very well kept. I'm noticing a theme here. Asides for the usual painting there's nothing here I have seen that's really personal. Did this say anything about my abductors? Because that's precisely what they are. Cold, definitely. Calculating, maybe. Clean murderers- well I'll never know, will I?
Everything's bolted down to the floor, honest to god. From the two poster bed to the chest of drawers crammed to the side. Even the window has bars which worries me greatly. I wonder how Ray can stay in a room so small that you can't sneeze without hearing it two doors down. One thing though, the ceilings are High...
Maybe that's why there's so many cobwebs up there...All twinkling and shimmering so prettily...
"You need to know something..."
Huh? I thought I was alone! I sit up sharply on the hardened bed and see Josh didn't leave the moment I got here, like I'd thought he'd would. He been standing by the window all the time, staring into the yard below...He turns away from the barricaded view and paces up and down like a caged animal. Such a fitting description.
"Don't you want to know why you were chosen? Picked? Hand selected? Do you even know why you're here?"
My only response is the shake of the head. He mutters something under his breath in what I can only assume is frustration.
"You're here because of your parents, Lara, do you know who they were? Your dad?"
" What do you mean were? And my dad's a lawyer- what does that have to do with anything? He isn't prosecuting a smack-head if that's what you want-"
"No!" he hisses kicking at the end of the bed. The whole thing shudders and I clutch onto the thin, wiry blankets. "Your real dad, the leader of the Hunter pack, the most revered and sought after pack in the whole world- the one many females sought to be mated with and the only being who got close enough was your mom-"
"What?" I blink stupidly, " You're wrong- my dad's the son of a miner and a housewife, born in North Carolina and the only woman who's sought after him is my mom-"
Josh stares at me with something akin to pity. " He's not your real dad, Lara."
I feel like screaming "shut up!" till his eardrums bled. "So you're saying I'm adopted, is that it?"
"No," This time he's more calmer and more in his stride. "After your dad died your mother remarried again to Ian Anderson, aged 27 and a former graduate of Harvard- they later conceived a baby boy, Michael Matthew Anderson, now aged 13 and currently a local truant at St Benedict's School for both sexes. They live happily at the address 67 Kingston Avenue, in which your real father and mother conceived you in the upper storey of the residen-"
"Stop." I'm shell shocked. The words pouring out of his mouth is like poison, wounding me and hurting me much more than I'd like. To my relief, Josh stops speaking as ordered and takes a seat on the bed, making sure that no part of my body was in contact with his.
For a short moment, I feel like believing his words even if it's just to humor him but then I realise I feel sad. Sad for him.
I notice the way he suddenly tenses as I allow myself to uncoil my limbs and shift myself down the bed until I'm right beside him , feet braced against the cold floor. He doesn't get up, but he doesn't face me either instead choosing to remain perfectly neutral and face the bare wall before us.
"Josh..."
My whisper distracts him and he looks at me, eyes lost like a person wondering the moors in the foggiest of mornings. As much as I try to tamper down my feelings, I can't help the feeling of joy purring deeply in my tummy at the satisfaction he acknowledged me. Acknowledged me like a wanton in need of his next fix.
I rid myself of that disturbing analogy and instead lean forwards, my lips slightly parted, feeling guilty in the knowledge that his eyes will directly zone onto my lips. I can't feel his breath on my face but perhaps it's because he's breathing through his nose instead of his mouth, eyebrows furrowed deeply at the play of events. And then I'm kissing him, softly and gently at first as if not to frighten him away. He doesn't respond to my light teasing of his mouth. The elation within me is dying fast and I prepare to pull away.
But suddenly, like a switch being flipped, his lips jerk underneath mine sending a spark deep into my heart. He responds eagerly, like a child opening Christmas presents, and eases my mouth open with fever and passion. Automatically, I wind my hands into his hair, lightly tugging and scraping at his skull with my fingertips. The answering growl sends a shiver down my spine which promptly is chased away by his warm hand trailing up my back and down again, before resting on the base of my spine.
Our hips are pushed up close as we desperately try to get closer and then before we know it, we're falling...falling backwards until Josh collides with the bed.
Exhilaration, Liberation, Cravings...So many jumbled heap of emotions.
And then reality sets in...
Josh rolls over me and stares down at me, a strange smile playing on those warm, warm, delectable, lips...And then it freezes as he spots a box by my head...
A long, rectangular box...
He snatches it up before I can stop him and gazes down, a frown marring his forehead.
"What's this?" He asks, though he can clearly see the text printed on it's side.
"It's nothing..." I put in, because that was what I truly thought it was...Nothing...Shame Josh didn't seem to think so.
"Nothing, huh?" he rolls of the bed and cool air wafts over my warm body, chilling me to the core. I throw an arm over my eyes as he again, resumes his pacing. "What was I thinking? Leave it to a female trying to get you distracted. It's all they bloody do. Come on, get up!"
The last command is directed at me but all I do is turn my head to the side and get comfortable, or try to, for a nice long sleep...
"Hey!" I protest as I'm jerked to my feet; much to my annoyance and fury. "What did you do that for?"
"If Axel smells me on you, he'd kill you-" he pauses, "And then kill me as well."
"Oh yea," I roll my eyes, "I'm forgetting you guys have the muzzles of a bloodhound- now excuse me while I find a workable phone-"
My lurch to the door is thwarted by a hand to the shoulder. "I need to burn your clothes," he menaced. Just as I'm about to shove him to the floor, to hell with all the consequences, and make another bid to freedom, a person sticking their head in through the doorway makes me re-think my plan.
A person with five different colors in his hair and a humongous grin that would put a dentist to shame...
"My, my, aren't we the naughty pups..."
A/N:- Updates will be back to normal now...Well, I hope at least...
Much cheers goes to : DixieAusten, Papertrail and Amarantis for reviewing.
No current full blown werewolves yet but all in good time...I think the suggestions and hints will do for now...
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