Running

Chapter Thirteen: Keeper

Will's POV:

__________

I had passed my best friend and Alpha in the hospital, but he hadn't said anything. Strange.

I ponder the thought as I head to Iris's room. God, she's beautiful.

She's still beautiful, even now. I stare at her for a moment, drinking her in before she can notice me.

She has a horrible black eye, a bruise forming on her cheek, and I can see a cast on her wrist.

"Will," she breathes when she sees me. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," I send her a wobbly smile. "I heard you....you know."

"Yeah," Iris coughs. "Does everyone know?"

"No," I lie. "Not everyone."

She nods, happy. I feel bad for fibbing.

"So," I attempt to distract her from her position. "We still on for that date?"

She smiles, playing along. "Can't go anywhere for a while, Will."

"Damn," I swear, playing with a piece of her matted hair as I pull up a rusty chair. "I was looking forward to that."

She smiles again but stays silent.

"So," I say casually. "Was Aaron here?"

She pales. "Um, yeah. Why?"

"Nothing," I blush, surprised at being a little bit jealous. "I just saw him in the hall. Whatever. He looked pissed, though."

"I know," she mutters under her breath, but my keen werewolf ears pick it up.

I try to distract her from her brooding thoughts. "Let's think. Bowling, skating, movies, of course, we could stay home----"

"What?" Iris cuts me off. "What are you babbling about?"

"Why," I exclaim, "our date!"

"I would say," she winks, wiggling her eyebrows, "we should stay in."

"Did Iris Locke just make a joke?!" I claim, grabbing both of her hands in mine. "It's a miracle!"

"Shut up!" she laughs, swatting at my fingertips.

We joke around for a bit before I announce that I have to leave. My mom's expecting me. Something flashes in her sad eyes before she drops her gaze and says goodbye.

"Bye, love," I whisper in her hair playfully before I pull away and leave.

Iris Locke is different. She's a keeper.

___________________________

Unknown POV:

_____________

I hate her. I despise her.

I could chop her up, feed her to the sharks. Throw her in a tank full of crocodiles.

Stab her to death. Beat her. Tie her up. Kill her.

I would enjoy it. I would relish in it. She deserves it, and you know it. Don't make me the bad guy!

I'm not unhinged, I'm not, I'm not! And I'll get her, I swear to you. I swear!

The laugh bubbles up from me, like the highest note a mockingbird could sing. Glass cracks, ears bleed, but I laugh on.

I'm going to stab her to death. Or maybe I will strangle her? Wring that pretty little neck? Either way, I will kill her.

I will.

___________________________