His Broken Luna

Chapter Two: Guilt

One year later

I had convinced my parents to let me use them as an alibi so I could make funeral arrangements for Grayson. They had questions, of course, but didn't press anything. They could see I had been through too much already, and just wanted to ease my pain even if only by a fraction.

After everything was done and Grayson was in the ground, I couldn't stay at our house anymore. It was haunted with the ghosts of that night, the blood and screams and gunshots. So, I sold the place and moved away from the city. Not wanting me to be alone, Mom and Dad offered to let me stay with them for a while. I wanted to so very badly, but I couldn't.

According to police, one of the men that had broken into our house was killed by "our dog". Our dog, of course, being my wolf, but I didn't correct them on that for obvious reasons. The neighbors had told them that another man was seen fleeing the house and there's been a manhunt out for him ever since.

So, besides my being a werewolf, whomever was in on my husband's murder was still out there somewhere. There was no way I could put my parents' lives at risk by staying with them. It was me that the men were hunting that night, after all.

Me.

It was my fault Grayson was dead.

If that stupid wolf had just killed me instead of turning me into a wolf, too--

"Stop it!" I snapped at myself, standing in the middle of the living room of my new home. "Stop it, now. What happened wasn't your fault, and wishing you were dead won't bring Grayson back."

A tear slipped out of my eye, and I hastily brushed it away. Even though I'd had this exact conversation with myself dozens of times, it never got any easier to accept. It probably never would. But at least now I could say Grayson's name without crumpling to the floor in a puddle of tears.

A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts, and I straightened my clothes and wiped my eyes again before coming over to answer it.

"Good morning, Ella." A middle-aged man with a receding hairline and handlebar mustache greeted me with a toothy smile. "Ready to take a tour of the grounds?"

"Of course, Mr. Harvey." I nodded, patting my pocket to make sure I still had my house keys. "Where should we start first?"

~~~

With my condition, I needed somewhere secluded to live. Somewhere vast, with caves and caverns and water. I needed to be around nature, craved it like a drug. So, when a job opening for grounds keeper for private land popped up in the local paper, I jumped at the opportunity.

"There's approximately eighty acres to the property. We got five cabins to the north, and counting the one you'll be living in, five to the south. Now, since it's wintertime, me and the boys won't be up here much if at all." Mr. Harvey said, driving me in his little golfcart around a huge man-made lake. "I just need you to keep an eye on things, make sure no riffraff are hanging around, check that the cabins are okay every once in a while. Nothing too bad."

The mention of riffraff made me a little nervous, so I asked, "do people trespass a lot on your land?"

I shuddered inwardly at the thought of coming across a trespasser while my wolf was out. Maybe taking this job wasn't such a good idea after all.