Don't Tell A Soul

As It Must Be.

Sitting in the small medical room in the basement of Clayton’s house was the icing on the cake. It felt crowed in there with us three in such small quarters, Clayton’s eyes were constantly on me. We were wasting time and I was getting a little irritable.

“So Avery, what happen this time? I didn’t expect to see you this soon.” Frank said lifting my arm and squeezing certain spots.

“Just some fooling around in the woods. I tripped and fell banged my shoulder pretty bad. Nothing major.” I said trying to down play the seriousness of what actually happen. I notice Frank glance at Clayton and then back at my arm.

“How’s your thigh? It should be healing pretty nicely.” He asked.

“It is thank you.”

“I have never seen anyone sustain an injury like that and turn down any medication to put them out or stop the pain.” He said still astonished about yesterday’s incident. I just shrugged my shoulders.” Do you mind if I take a look at it? Just to make sure everything is still in place and none of the stiches have come undone.” He asked in sincerity.

“I’m kinda wearing pants.” I said. There was no proof of the wound Jackson gave me. Just like there would be no sign of a dislocated arm if he took an X-ray, and I wouldn’t be able to explain that to them without freaking someone out. “It’s fine really. My dad checked it this morning.” I told him trying to drop the subject.

“Can you move your arm? Like roll it?” He asked and showed him I could as he walked around and stood behind me. Claytons eyes never leaving my face. “Well your muscles don’t seem torn, I can’t feel any other damage.” He told me. But I already knew that.

“But wait a second,” He said his voice laced with worry. What now? “You have a pretty nasty gash at the base of your neck, did you not feel that?” He asked I reached my hand around to touch it and he was right that was a nasty cut. I must have gotten it when the rogue knocked me down. “You’re gonna need stiches, Clayton could you go grab some disposable stitches for me.” He asked and Clayton exited the room. I took my hair out of my ponytail and moving it away from the cut.

“So you wanna tell me how you really dislocated your shoulder?” He asked proceeding to clean my head wound.

“I told you I feel in the woods.” I replied.

“Judging by the amount of blood on you and looking at you there aren’t any cuts or scrapes, I’d say you were attacked but that’s reaching a bit.” He said. “Or is it.” He said stepping infront of me and looking me in the eyes. I hadn’t even noticed the blood on me until he pointed it out but he was right, I was attacked but it’s no big deal.

“Was it Jackson again?” He asked he brow creased in frustration.

“No. I just fell. I’m a werewolf there is a big possibility that the blood is mine from small cuts that could have already healed.” I told him.

“That’s the story you’re sticking to?” He asked raising an eyebrow. I didn’t know how much I should tell him infact I didn’t really know what to tell anyone because no one heard what either of the dead rogues said to me. For all everyone knows this was a random rogue attack and that’s what I decided to leave it as. I didn’t need my dad and uncle to worry about a possible threat that I couldn’t even understand. I always wasn’t going to involve any of the pack members that weren’t there in the problem at hand even if it was the pack doctor.

“Yes Frank, that’s my story.” He phone buzzed just as Clayton walked in.

“Clayton you think you can finish up here while I head to the infirmary.” He asked walking toward the door.