Growls & Greeting Cards

Part 1

 Tonight is the full moon, and I'm leaving.

I push my sleeves up to my elbows before turning on the faucet. As the sink fills with soapy water, I reach for the first dirty dish.

And I stare at my wrists.

I don't want to look at them. A black hole in my chest whimpers for me to pull my sleeves back down, even if that means soaking the fabric through as I clean up.

But I've been ignoring my bruises for too long. It's time to stop.

"That steak was perfect, babe. And the mashed potatoes and, hell, everything." A chair scrapes against linoleum, and soon a strong set of arms wraps around my middle.

Somehow, with some hidden strength I never knew I possessed or thought I would need, I relax into the hold.

"Hope I didn't spoil your appetite. You've got all those poor forest creatures to hunt down later."

He chuckles and presses a kiss against my neck. My lids flutter rapidly to keep any tears at bay.

These moments were the ones that gave me hope in the beginning. Every soft touch made up for the sting of the hard ones.

His hands slide from my waist, tracing down my arms to caress the bruises. The movement is almost sensual.

It makes the small amount of food I was able to swallow curdle in my stomach.

"I'm sorry. Sometimes I don't know my own strength. It's like that with my kind, you know?"

"I know." Know that he's full of shit.

It took me some time to realize it, but when I did, my dreams of a happy future with the man I thought I loved shattered.

Cory likes seeing his marks on me.

"You going to have breakfast waiting for me?"

"Of course," I lie.

Every month he asks and expects the same answer. I learned quickly what would happen if I wasn't waiting for him here after the night of the full moon. He requires breakfast and his woman willing.

But this time, things will be different. I try not to think about his reaction when he discovers what I've done.

"I'm off. Miss you already." Then he presses on my wrists with a quick, firm pressure. A warning.

The ache shoots up my arms, and I pinch my lips together to keep the gasp at bay.

After a possessive pat on my ass, he's out the door.

My hands continue to wash dishes, my pace steady. A performance of relaxation. Soon the sound of his Harley roars to life, practically shaking the walls of our small house. Cory wants to buy a bigger place. After we're mated, he says.

Like that'll tempt me into agreeing.

Even as the growl of his bike fades into the distance, I continue washing dishes, although my movements become jerky with nerves. The rumble of other bikes and trucks sound out on the road in front of the house, all heading out of town.

When everything is clean and in the drainer, I turn off the lights on the first floor and head up to the bedroom.

That's when I put on speed.

All my packing needs to happen now. If I'd done any of it before tonight, Cory would have noticed, and all of my plans would've been ruined.

But I've mentally packed my belongings hundreds of times, so I know exactly where everything is, and exactly where everything goes.