Cozy • An Embry Story

.28

Embry's POV

"About time you're back." I'm not sure who told Old Lady Enola I was coming home, (probably Billy Black) but here she is on my front porch sipping on a mug of tea that is undeniably from my kitchen. Either Enola caught my mom on her way out to her second job, or the old lady somehow let herself in. There doesn't seem to be any sign of forced entry, all the windows are intact, with the front door seemingly fine, but honestly there's no telling how she got in.

Enola may look elderly, but her homemade knit sweaters or crocs don't fool any of us locals. The stories I've heard about her growing up are downright fiendish.

"Um, hi Enola. Did you come to see my mom?" I already know the rez elder isn't here to see my mom.

"No," Enola gives a shake of her gray head before narrowing her eyes on me. All things considered, from my build, size, being a werewolf, even facing the Volturi, Enola's glare is still off putting. "I came here to see you."

"In that case, would you like to come inside?" I offer.

"No, this won't take long." Enola waves off before reaching around the chair and pulling out her rifle.

"Enola!" I warn, more for her than for me. Ignoring me, she mindlessly takes her time with the rifle, checking the barrel to make sure it's loaded.

"I've always minded you less than other folks, Embry. I can't say that about many people, but you're quite the young man. Your mom, Tiff, did right by you. You're respectful, selfless, manners of a saint, always helping anyone who asks, and I know what you do for the reservation. Now just because I don't hate you, don't mean I like you, we clear?"

"Clear, Enola." I nod. When she points her rifle at me I hold up my hands in defense, "Crystal clear."

"Now, Winnifred? I like her." Enola's words stretch out between us. Her brows rising up to her hairline with a sly tilt of her head. "That girl? She's a good one. Even when this town hasn't been good to her, even with how she hasn't done anything to nobody, Winnifred has always been and will be one of the good ones."

"Winnie is the best one." I brave a word. A fond looks takes over Enola's dark eyes before she tightens her grip around the barrel.

"I know Winnifred is your imprint, Embry." I confirm with a nod. "If she's your imprint then why did you stand up for her only to run with your tail between your legs?"

"If I tell you the reason are you going to shoot me?" I ask with a cautious nod towards her rifle.

"I won't if it's a good reason." Enola chuckles.

"Enola, you're too smart to waste a bullet one me. You know that won't do anything to me." She gives a sage nod of her head, glancing at the rifle with a collected expression.

"Doesn't mean I won't enjoy shooting at you." Enola smirks. Damn it.

"I'm scared to tell her—" I don't even bother finishing my sentence before ducking. I had a feeling she was going to fire. I have no idea how old that gun of hers is, but it sounds off like a canon. There wasn't a boom, but an explosion. One that has all my neighbors checking outside then racing back inside when they see Enola.

"Well, well," She whistles, already getting ready for another shot. "That damn well better not be your reason."

"I'm scared to tell her!" I force out as fast as I can before she can fire another shot. Putting my all into keeping any anger in check. Forcing myself to take deep breaths and to count to ten, and whatever else to keep my mind sane. After the Lodge, I don't want a repeat. Especially not with Enola of all people.