Wicked Game

Chapter 25

Kasey's POV

The first part of my senses to gain consciousness was my hearing. The rest of me felt like death; I didn't want to move or open my eyes.

"...what happened, but all of that blood on her front is the hunter's," Derek's voice was unsure, worrisome.

"So- we can't go to the police, yet," Scott paused, and even with how tired he sounded, he caught on to my game. I hear him shift the subject, "She's awake."

I reluctantly open my eyes, finding myself on the couch in Derek's living room. The footsteps of my friends shuffled in, and I positioned myself upright on the couch. I sat forward though, wincing at my own battle scars.

"Kasey," Isaac breathed, relieved. Despite the muck of mud and blood covering me, he hugged me tightly anyways. I gasp in pain at the touch of his hands on my back.

"Oh! Oh, sorry!" He apologizes quietly, and then gains a confused expression, "Kasey, what happened?"

My eyes shift from Isaac, to Stiles, to Scott, to Derek. I gaze back down at my feet, feeling like the defective pack member.

"I killed her," I spit out, glancing up quickly, and looking away again. They waited for me to continue. Derek's arms were folded over his chest and his eyes were stone cold.

"She had me, at first. I was stupid enough to walk into one of her traps when I went after her, and the next thing I knew, my lights were out. I woke up with my arms restrained," my voice got a little shakey, but I steadied it. I couldn't change what happened, so I might as well own it. "She uh... she had this whip. It was dusted in wolfsbane. She tried making me give you guys up."

I turned my back to Isaac, who had sat down on the couch next to me, listening intently. I attempted to tug the back of my shirt up, but he got the jist and assisted me. I felt my shirt peeling and unsticking from the dried blood from my wounds.

"Oh jesus," Isaac nearly gagged, and I watched Scott and Stiles's eyes grown wider than the moon. Derek still had his stony expression.

I took it that the gashes were as bad as they felt. They only stuck around because of the wolfsbane.

"We need to get you to Deaton," Scott shakes his shock off. Great. The vet again.

"What else?" Derek isn't phased, but his eyes are glued to me.

I gaze down at my hands in my lap, "I lost control... she was going to kill me, but I got loose and..."

I could feel the blood dried around my mouth and on my cheeks. Even with what rubbed off, it didn't come close to amounting what was nearly covering my front. I licked my lips before justifying what had happened, "It was on the full moon. I thought I could use it to my advantage. I should have done better, but I couldn't keep it together."

"No, you did what you had to do," Scott assures me, and Stiles adds, utterly failing at perking up the mood, "Yeah, you'd probably be dead if you didn't!"

"Right. So now, we just have to get Deaton to fix you up, and figure out a story to tell the cops. And well- what uh- did you do anything with what was left of her?"

Scott almost seemed nervous to ask that. I shake my head truthfully, knowing that was a roadblock I immediately had to deal with. I backtrack on his words though, asking warily, "What do the cops have anything to do with this?"

"Lou called it in," Stiles chimes in again, "They're really worried."

"Oh lord," I mumble, and rub a hand over my face. I felt as if I could pass out again. I was at Derek's door when my lights went out, totally overwhelmed with exhaustion and the wolfsbane keeping my wounds from healing.

The boys looked just as tired, and I pushed the thought of their reactions away when they found out I was gone. The guilt swept over me, making me want to crawl in a hole and die.

"I'll take her to see Deaton," Derek the statue states after a long period of jaw clenching. I internally sighed, and found myself not looking forward to it.

Derek strides past me. I could feel Isaac staring at me, and I knew I had unfinished business to take care of.

The other three parted ways when we did. I watched the jeep take off after I had sunk down into the camaro. I let my gaze fall out the window as Derek puts the car in drive.

"I told you that you didn't have to do that alone," Derek finally speaks up.

"I didn't want anyone to get hurt because of me," I say calmly without looking at him.

"You're apart of the pack. We protect each other," he responds and I can feel him glancing at me. "And not to mention, you got hurt."

I keep my mouth shut, and stifle the chances of him getting a rise out of me.

"What were you thinking? Planning this behind our backs? You could have been killed, we didn't know what happened to you."

I turned my head to look at Derek, lips pursed in a tight line.

"She was going to hurt all of us. She knew where to find you guys, she just wanted the convenience of using me to get to you," I explain to him, and move my stare to the road up ahead. "I tore her throat out. I know it probably doesn't meet to your standards or how you wanted it to go, but it happened and it's over, okay Derek?"

His eyebrows were raised in surprise, but he shakes it off and clenches his jaw again.  I shake my head at myself for pitching a useless cause.

"I didn't want you to get hurt," his tone softens, but I keep my eyes on the road. "Truth is, I didn't think you were strong enough. But I was wrong. Happy?"

"I accept your apology," I acknowledged it for what it was, and hear a slight chuckle from Derek.

"How bad is the mess?" Derek suddenly asks, sounding as if he were afraid to hear the answer.

I hesitate, and then give the expected answer.

"Bad."

"Alright. Well after we get you patched up, we should probably go take care of that," he didn't have to explain to me why.

"Right. What are we going to say to the police?" I glance at him again, and this time he kept his eyes straight ahead.

"We'll have to stage something. Say you were... kidnapped or something. We'll find you some different- dirty clothing, something that doesn't have a giant stain of someone else's blood on the front of it. You probably shouldn't be entirely cleaned up when we get there. We'll say you got away, and that I was the closest person that could help," Derek puts the plan together out loud.

"Yeah, and I decided to walk home after the game, which will be how I was picked up," I add to the story, trying to find any gaps. I did create a little bit of a mess to clean up.

The cuts on my back stung, leaving the situation present in my mind. Her face flickered in my mind. From the floor, from my restraints, nearly eye level with her, to standing over the bloody corpse, eyes still wide with shock. The thought disgruntled me, but the wolfsbane was enough to keep me sweating and fighting to stay awake. I did what I had to do.

I also wondered what was going to happen now. I didn't think I'd make it home alive, and here I am, getting ready to delve back into my life. Where would Derek and I pick up at? Resuming our life of training and constant bickering about control, or from that goodbye kiss at the game? He probably thinks I staged that too. I conclude it best that I leave it alone for the moment. Derek probably doesn't trust me anymore.

I just couldn't wait to go home and collapse in my bed.