Ollie Vance - Book Two: Ashes and Smoke

Chapter Two

I stayed home that evening after having been heavily bandaged by Hailey and fussed over by Patrick who made me soup and biscuits while I lay down on the couch in the living room.

I popped a couple of Advil and when the pain was had finally subsided, I managed to send them home with assurances that I was going to be fine. 

When they were gone, I finally called Jack who I knew would’ve already been at work.

“It looked like a lizard?” he repeated with a tone that suggested he was frowning deeply. 

“Yes—a big, scary, man-shaped lizard,” I told him as I swirled what was left of my green tea in the cup. “It had green eyes and not the pretty kind.”

“Sounds like a demon,” he finally said, exhaling sharply. “It might regenerate its arm but it’ll take a while. I’ll look into it and see if anyone else knows about it.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“And what did Tristan say about it?” he asked after a brief, hesitant pause.

I leaned back against the couch and sighed. “Nothing. I didn’t give him the opportunity to say much. I just told him to deal with it because it’s likely his mess.”

Jack didn’t say much after that.

He knew I haven’t been in speaking terms with Tristan lately but I never explained why and he never asked. He probably didn’t want to know.

We said goodbye after he assured me he’d come see me right after he got out of work but that he might be running late because he had a pack meeting right after dawn too. I didn’t tell him about my injuries.

I had just slowly dragged myself to the kitchen to put away my cup when there was a knock on the door.

I glanced at the wall clock. It was about seven-thirty and I wasn’t expecting anyone.

I carefully shuffled towards the door, surprised that no pain pinched the soles of my feet anymore as they had an hour ago when I went to boil a pot of water for my tea.

“Who is it?” I called out, reaching for the shot gun I kept in the front hall closet.

In a matter of seconds, the front door opened and in strode Tristan.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said, glancing at my outstretched hand.

His eyes were a dark, almost denim-blue color and his mouth was set in a tight line. His blond hair was casually brushed back, a few locks falling right above his brows. In an all-black outfit, his towering frame of about six feet and five inches looked more menacing.

My heart raced but I quickly put on my angry face.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded, crossing my arms in front of me, more in an effort to conceal the thin tank top I was wearing with a pair of baby blue cotton boxers.

He didn’t answer that question.

He glanced down at my legs and studied the bandage that pretty much covered my right shin and the ones Hailey wrapped at the bottom of my feet.

“Did those heal already?” he asked and before I could answer, he was down on his knee, peeling off the bandage.

“Hey, stop it!” I exclaimed in surprise, trying to take a step back but he quickly grabbed me by the hips and sat me down on an arm chair.

The rest of my protest died in my throat when the bandage came off and all that I saw were fading trails of red on the parts of my leg where the skin had been scraped off.