Chapter 33
My heavy head rested on my palm as I tried my best to pay attention. I was in hour two of a three-hour meeting on this big new case I’d been assigned.
And, I was struggling.
A large yawn fell from my lips, but thankfully didn’t catch anyone’s attention. I’d had very little sleep last night between the newest wolf dream, and that damn broken heart of mine that ached, and throbbed continually, barely giving me a moment of peace.
This dream about the wolf hadn’t been like the others. Not at all. Instead of running from the wolf, I’d met her in a clearing. I’m not sure how I knew it was a her, but I did, without a doubt. The brown-eyed wolf had approached me in a dark meadow, making several laps around me before coming to a stop a few feet away.
She was so massive, her head reached my chest as she sat, and stared, her intelligent dark eyes watching me. I knew she was looking for something, but didn’t know what. And, again, I didn’t know how I knew that, but I did.
I’d even tried to talk to her, ask her what she wanted, who she was, and what we were doing here, but of course there’d been no answer. She’d simply cocked her head to the side, and let out a single bark before turning around, and sprinting away in the direction she’d come.
I’d done my best to follow her, but the darkness had gotten thicker, and thicker the further I walked, until the view was the same whether my eyes were open or shut. My voice had rung out, and echoed back as I called after the wolf, but she never returned.
I woke shortly after that with Abraham’s name on my lips. It was the first dream I’d had without him there to comfort me. I’d clutched my blankets as tears streamed down my face, wetting my pillow, and adding to my misery.
I didn’t want to cry over him.
Didn’t want to think about him.
Didn’t want to miss him.
Didn’t want to feel the urge to call him and tell him I didn’t mean it. That I’d jumped to conclusions, and that I would hear him out. Give him another chance.
Didn’t want any of that.
Because, he’d lied.
So, as I’d lain there with the tears falling steadily, I’d made a decision. I didn’t want to be sad anymore.
Or hurt.
Those were two emotions I couldn’t control.
Couldn’t master.
Couldn’t bear.
Instead, I got angry. Anger was a much easier emotion to harness, and I had years of experience at it. So while the hours ticked by, and the sun rose, I fortified my poor broken heart, filling in the cracks with fury, and coating it in rage.
I wouldn’t allow this to break me. For him to break me. I’d come back from worse, and I’d get over this too. Besides, I probably only had another three weeks left. Surely I’d be strong enough to hold onto this anger until then.
I did my best to stifle the dozenth yawn I’d had in the past thirty minutes, but the glare from my boss told me I wasn’t fooling anyone.
“Montgomery, are we boring you?”
I sat up straighter in my chair. “No sir, of course not. I just need another cup of coffee, and I’ll be good to go.”
He waved me away. “Then go on and come back ready to tackle this new case. It’s an important one, and I need one of our brightest senior associates firing on all cylinders.”
I stood and nodded. “Yes, sir, I’ll be right back.”
Hurrying as fast as I dared in my three inch heels, I made it to the break room, and popped a single serve cup in the coffee maker. While it hissed, and gurgled, I slipped my phone from my pocket, and checked for any missed calls or messages.
Not from him, just in general.
I was a busy career woman. Any number of people could need to get in touch with me during the day.
Keep telling yourself that, Montgomery.
I ignored my pessimism and typed the pass code into my phone. A little number one sat on the corner of the message icon, and I clicked on it eagerly.
My heart hit the soles of my shoes, my hands clamming up as my battered heart picked up its pace.
It was from him.
With shaking hands, I clicked on the message.
“Well, well, well,” a nasal voice came from the front of the room.
I jumped, and turned, tucking my phone back in my pocket.
“Hiding out in the break room when you should be working? Tsk tsk. Is that behavior fitting a prestigious senior associate?”
I rolled my eyes and turned to my steaming mug of coffee. I’d had far too little sleep to deal with Ben today. “It’s none of your business how I spend my day. You don’t sign my paychecks.”
His overpowering cologne preceded him. “What crawled up your ass, Montgomery?”
I shook my head, and closed my eyes, praying for patience. All I wanted to do was check the phone burning a hole in my pocket. And, get away from Ben.
“Nothing. I’m just sick of you questioning me, and my promotion. It’s not up to you, so you need to mind your own business,” I answered, my back still to him as I doctored my coffee. I heard him move away from me toward the cabinet of mugs and slipped my phone out.
“I’m not questioning you. I was happy you got the promotion. I just want to make sure you don’t slip and upset management. I’d hate to see you lose that pretty new office.”
I rolled my eyes and ignored him. The new message was glaring at me as I debated whether I wanted to check it now. If I did, I’d feel like I was letting myself down. Showing weakness when I’d just decided I’d be nothing but strong from here on out.
On the other hand, if I left it to later, it would nag at me all day. I’d be useless in that meeting, counting the minutes until I could escape to my office, and read it.
“Hey, a few of us are going to happy hour on Thursday. You should come.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. This needed to end now. I couldn’t have this stupid little text hanging over my head all day. I’d veered away from sadness, and into anger’s lane, and an angry woman would check her texts, if only to scoff at his message.
That’s what I’d do. I’d check it just so I could prove to myself it meant nothing. That he meant nothing.
“We’re hitting that new jazz place downtown. They’ve got a few good drink specials.”
I opened my eyes and clicked on the message before I could change my mind.
Sexiest Man Alive: We need to talk.
I frowned.
That’s it?
All that indecision. All that waffling, and debating, and torture I’d just endured for a lousy four words?
And, who the hell was he to tell me what we had to do? I’d said everything I needed to say. He’d lied, and in fact was still keeping something from me. In my opinion, nothing more needed to be said.
“So, what do you say?”
I turned to Ben. I think he’d been talking this whole time, but I hadn’t heard a word he’d said. “What was that?”
“Drinks. This Thursday. A few of us are going downtown. You in?” His words were clipped, like he was explaining himself to an idiot.
And, maybe he was.
Because his invitation didn’t sound half bad.
“How many people are going?”
Ben perked up, like a terrier that’d been shown a ball. “Oh, just some of the guys. You’ll like them. Will you come?”
I glanced at my messages one last time, and decided Abraham, and his stupid four word message could go screw. “Yeah. I’m in.”
The rest of the day passed by uneventfully with no further reprimands from my boss, and more importantly, no more texts from him.
I was driving home, tapping out the beat to the newest Taylor Swift song when I felt my nose start to run. I grabbed a napkin from my center console to wipe it and gasped when it came back bright red.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a nose bleed. It must have been years. And, it was so odd, I’m not sick, my allergies weren’t acting up, and I hadn’t even touched my nose.
The ride back to my apartment was awkward as I tried to tilt my head back far enough so I could get the bleeding to stop while still watching the road. Walking up to my apartment with my head tilted back, and a bloody tissue against my nose was not my finest hour, but I was beyond caring.
“Hey, what happened?” Callie called as Charlie came barreling into my legs, stretching up to be lifted into my arms.
“I don’t know, it just started bleeding on my way home,” I muttered nasally, pinching the bridge of my nose.
Callie rose from the couch and ordered me to lie down. “I’ll get you a clean tissue.” I switched out the bloody napkin for the soft tissue from Callie and gave it a few minutes before checking my nose’s progress.
Thankfully, the bleeding had stopped. But, something was off. I sniffed the air a few times and frowned. “Why does it smell like blood in here?”
Callie frowned. “Uh, because you just had a bloody nose?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s not my blood. It’s someone else’s blood. Were you bleeding today?”
Her eyes widened, and she nodded. “I had a pretty bad paper cut today, but that was hours ago.”
I sniffed again. “In the guest room right?”
She nodded again, her eyes clearing, and a small smile tilting her lips. “You just got your sense of smell in.”
“Could this explain the bloody nose?” Callie nodded again as I rose from the couch, sniffing the air as I went.
Callie’s flowery scent was stronger than ever, like a dozen roses sat blooming in my living room. Next, I smelled Charlie, his scent amplified with a hint of his kitty litter thrown in.
Speaking of kitty litter.
“Oh, his litter box needs to be cleaned, huh?” I asked.
Callie laughed. “I was going to mention it if you didn’t do it today.”
I walked around the house, taking in all the new scents both good, and bad, and decided my place needed a deep cleaning. Nose wrinkled, I turned to Callie. “How can you stand all the different smells in here?”
She laughed lightly. “Just like everything else, you get used to it. Congratulations. You’re one step closer to becoming a werewolf.”
With that sobering thought, I went to my bedroom to change. I’d been kind of excited to get a new wolfy sense, but after hearing Callie equate it to me being closer to my shift, that excitement vanished.
Because, one step closer to shifting, meant one step closer to possibly dying. And, I wasn’t ready for that. Wasn’t ready for the possible repercussions of that shift.
After dinner, I retreated to my room, and spent the rest of the night staring at my ceiling, and pretending I hadn’t received another two texts from him. I’d ignored them both, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. So, I used the hours of tossing and turning to further strengthen my heart. Encase it in stone so thick, not even Abraham’s sweet pleas could slither through.
The next few days passed similarly, and before I knew it, it was Thursday. All week I’d felt worse, and worse.
Maybe I was getting sick.
Or, the sleepless nights were catching up to me.
It was getting harder to get out of bed in the morning, harder to concentrate at work. My body ached, and I had no energy. If I hadn’t been celibate for so long, I might worry I was pregnant.
Callie’s worried eyes followed me around the house as I rushed to get ready. I'd finally fallen into a fitful sleep in the early hours of the morning and slept through my alarm. She hadn't commented, but I knew she'd witnessed my physical decline over the week and I figured it was only a matter of time before she forced some health nut juice cleanse on me.
To make matters worse, Abraham’s texts had become increasingly frequent, and pleading. I’d ignored them all.
I’d even had Callie on my case.
“Why are you torturing him?” she’d asked abruptly over dinner the night before.
I frowned. “Torturing who?” I played dumb.
Her arched brow told me it wasn’t working. “Abraham. I know he’s been texting you. Why are you ignoring him?”
I took that opportunity to study my half-finished plate, hiding my carrots under a pile of mashed potatoes, my appetite suddenly gone. “I have nothing to say to him.”
She sighed, her tone irritated. Something I wasn’t used to hearing from mild-mannered Callie. “Did you stop to think that he might have a few things he’d like to say to you?”
I shook my head. “He had over a week to tell me, and he didn’t.” I shot her a glare. “And, he’s still keeping something from me. I gave him the opportunity to come clean, and he didn’t take it. Why should I give him another chance? Just because he feels like talking now?” I scoffed.
She shook her head, blue eyes sad. “You weren’t ready. You still aren’t.”
I slammed my fork on the table. “Who are you to decide what I’m ready for? Who is he to make that choice? I’m a grown woman, I don’t need him, or you, or anyone else making decisions for me.”
With that I’d stalked off to my bedroom where I spent the rest of the night. I’d felt awful for yelling at Callie that way, but I was tired of the secrets. Tired of the lies, and the subterfuge. I wanted complete honesty, and transparency in my life from here on out, and anyone who couldn’t abide by that could get the hell out.
Thinking about the fight with my soft-spoken friend had me angry all over again. My new favorite emotion. I was ready for today to be over. And, maybe apologize to Callie. Maybe.
I shook those thoughts off and turned back to my computer in an attempt to get some work done when I was interrupted.
“Knock, knock,” a voice called from my open doorway.
I turned to find Ben standing there with a slimy grin on his pale face. “What is it, Ben? I’m just getting ready to leave.”
He frowned. “You’re still coming out right?”
It was my turn to frown. “Out?”
His head shook back, and forth as he let himself into my office. “You said you’d come out, and have a few drinks with us tonight, remember?”
I’d forgotten all about that.
And now, the last thing I wanted to do was to go make small talk with a bunch of pretentious lawyers.
“Ben, today’s not a good day,” I turned to finish putting my desk to rights.
“If you’re having a bad day, isn’t that the perfect excuse to have a drink?”
He had a point as much as it pained me to admit. To be honest, a glass of wine didn’t sound half bad right about now.
And, the longer I spent out of the house meant the longer I could avoid Callie. And, my empty bedroom. And, the sleepless night that awaited me. And, maybe a drink would help cure whatever had been wrong with me all week.
Yeah, alcohol wasn’t known for its cures, but I was desperate.
I sighed. “You know what? You’re right.”
He clapped his hands, smile growing. “Great, I’ll drive.”
Hell no.
“That’s fine, I’d rather take my car. I’ll follow you there.”