chapter 7 | in plain sight

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Underneath the cloud laced moon, I cruise aside the dotted pave markings as the chill caress under my nails

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Underneath the cloud laced moon, I cruise aside the dotted pave markings as the chill caress under my nails. I dialed his number on the dashboard stereo, and it picked up on the other end. "Hi, it's me." I thought; actually, I didn't think at all. Let me not delude myself in the nonsense. John sold a dream. My worries are protecting the baby.

"Sorry I left so soon. Too many people." His delusion baffles me.

"Um." We know who left first. It's not important. "What you said. Could you really do that?"

"Is that a question?"

I was quiet, pondering. "Who will perform the procedure, you?"

"My assistant and nurse. I am preparing the room."

That's comforting, but who? "Assistant?"

"Of course, Debra Mosely is an exceptional woman."

I twitched, flaring my nose. "How are you and mom? She dumped you?" Him speaking about another female scrapes the surface of my brain. I shouldn't care, but I do. The distance between us is a wall block in my soul. I became so testy with him.

"She is - we're making it. You should call her. She misses you both."

"Hmph."

"Gwen was a part of it, but when it grew complicated, she backed out."

"I am not here for a reunion. I prefer to discuss more about the process before I decide. Could we speak in person? Where are you?"

"Camping in the Cascade area, twenty minutes from you. Sending the location. See you in a bit?"

"I guess. But do not mention it to Que, okay?"

"Nothing to be told."

The lack of hesitation in the agreement warmed my ears before I hung up the line. I am a fool, but I have the chance to have a part of you after I suffered from everything. A baby, a child from you. The address glowed on the screen. I endure sporadic breaths to ease the stomach acid in my throat. You are asking questions, nothing more. We haven't settled and confirmed the arrangement. But is it dangerous for me? Cool it. He has to have some sort of decency in that thick skull of his.

The risk versus the outcome. My sincere apologies, brother. I prefer the outcome. My foot assailed the pedal, accelerating from sixty to eighty. It is necessary for me to make it back at a specific time to avoid Quinn questioning me. I smash the brake, noticing a figure dash in front of my bumper with a sturdy, cocky sneer. It was hitting a utility pole as the rear lift from the impact. The auto body toppled onto the concrete with rigid rockabye.

Everywhere winds nigh napping my neck. Fu-c- I short gasp, seizing it, massaging with gentle touches. The facade of me, standing there with not a scratch on his core. Soren? He is the werewolf. I piece all of it collectively because it fitted the puzzle. Why was he there at the warehouse? To slaughter me?

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