The last thing James "Jay" Hale ever imagined was to begrudgingly return to Beacon Hills, find out his older sister was murdered, and then be forced to go on a wild goose chase after some fuck ass Alpha that seemed to have a particular interest in r...
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CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE:
Say Don't Go (Jay's Version)
✧✧✧✧
As Jay dragged Scott by the armpits away from the jail cell with the horrified parents and down the hallway with the dead bodies (yeah, he didn't know to make that sound better), his movements were careful but unhurried—like hauling around an overgrown toddler (also as off comparison).
In his eyes, an overgrown toddler basically summed up Scott McCall, so he was gonna run with it. But that wasn't why he was doing it.
The idea—at least in Jay's mind, where he was mentally trying to transmit the makeshift plan over to Scott—was that if they kept up the helpless and injured act, maybe they could catch Matt off guard in a surprise sneak attack.
Scott, meanwhile, did not get the transmission. His head was just too damn thick.
He actually thought that Jay was just being uncharacteristically nice and wasn't about to ruin a free ride by complaining about it, even as his ankles smacked against the walls at every corner (probably on purpose), and Matt maintained an unsettling level of eye contact as he trailed behind them.
Like, unsettling eye contact in the sense that it was full-on serial killer eye contact. The kind that made Jay wonder if Matt practised the look in the mirror or something. His gun swung overconfidently at his side like an idiot who thought that was the thing keeping them in line (and not, you know, the literal murder lizard on a leash watching them).
The staring and the swinging continued for an entire uncomfortable minute before Jay nudged Scott slightly—the signal to act on the plan—and let go of him.
Scott promptly dropped to the floor in a heap and cracked his head against the tile, letting out a pained groan as he now held his bloody torso and head in pain.
So, makeshift plan ruined.
Maybe Jay should've expected this. And maybe he should've calculated the fact that Scott's healing wasn't on par with an Alpha, who healed in, like, ten seconds flat.
Matt still jumped, nearly stumbled into a wall, and then hastily pointed his gun down at Scott, as if Scott curling up on the floor and whining was the sinister plan all along. "What the hell are you doing?" He asked redundantly, eyes suspiciously darting between he two werewolves.
"Dude, he dropped me!" Scott cried, sitting up and whipping a nasty little side eye over his shoulder at Jay, who raised his hands in mock surrender until Scott rubbed his head with a wince. "I think that knocked my brain around or something. Jeez."
"What brain?" Jay rolled his eyes.
If Stiles were in Scott's position, Jay was pretty sure he would've gotten the message through their very strong connection. But no, of course he was stuck with Scott as his only ally. The biggest failwolf of them all!
