Moonlight

19

A half an hour passes, finally the ambulance arrives. Cameron stays with Jack. I decide to stay behind.

"I guess I'll start with you, mutt." Melanie decides, walking towards me with a shotgun in her hands. Mom is occupied with Ian, and Dad with Brent. Everyone was fighting with someone, whether they were one on one or helping someone out.

"Melanie, please don't do this." I beg. She points her gun at me.

"Face it Leah, you are an alpha. We kill werewolves, we had a treaty and you broke it." She replies.

She pulls the trigger, a bullet rips out of the gun and into my leg. I cry out in pain and fall to my knees, favoring that leg.

"How did I break it?" I ask her. She looks into my eyes.

"You looked for Garrison on our territory, that's why Jack is dead. You, you are next." She warns.

"Jack isn't dead, I know he isn't." I mumble under my breath.

"Your pack needs you, Leah." She whispers.

"Your family needs you, Mel." I whisper. I point my finger at Ian and Mom. Ian's got her in a chokehold. She clenches her jaw, her cheeks sink in a little. She sees that mom is occupied enough to get close to me.

"As much as I'd like to put a bullet in your brain, I'm still your sister. She's directing everyone to be ruthless. The 'show no mercy' kind of thing." Melanie whispers in my ear. I look at her and sigh.

"It's because of Leanne, isn't it?" I ask softly. She nods.

"Look, I'm gonna shoot the next bullet into the grass, act like you're hurt and run off. Go be with Jack, he needs you." She advices me. I nod and watch the next bullet go into the ground, at my left. I hold my previous wound, which is still bleeding. I stumble trying to get to my feet, and run off up to the house.

The house still empty, holding in all the new memories of us. The bonfires, the engagement, the moment I first walked into the house.

I walk into three bathroom, my leg still sore. Burning like all hell. I grab the gauze, medical tape, and hydrogen peroxide. As much as this is going to hurt, I need to clean it. I sit on the toilet seat lid, it's cold on my legs.

I hold a wash cloth in my fingers, twisting it tightly. I hold it to my mouth and take a deep breath. I place it in my mouth and open the peroxide, the stench fills my nose.

As gross as it sounds, I reach into the wound, and pull the bullet out. Not even caring about the bullet, I toss it into the sink.

I begin to pour the peroxide on my wound. I groan, then all of a sudden, I scream out in pain. The peroxide causes bubbles to form, excruciatingly painful bubbles. The wash cloth drops out of my mouth.

"Shit." I mumble to myself.

I grab the gauze with my free hand and place it over the wound, and wrap it around my thigh. Then, place tape around my thigh.

I hear footsteps approach the bathroom, I peek around the corner and see it's just Melanie.

She hesitates to speak at first, she just looks at my wrapped up leg.

"How is it?" She asks softly. I look down at my makeshift bandaid and nod.

"I guess it's okay, hurts like hell." I reply. She hangs her head in despair.

"I never wanted to hurt you, mom made all of us. If we didn't do what she said, we'd get kicked out of the family like Leanne. I guess you could say it happened to you too." She explains. I nod and run my fingers through my wavy hair.

"I have to see Jack, if he dies, I'll never forgive myself." I announce. She nods and places her hand on my shoulder.

"Do what you have to, to protect your family. I'm here for you, I'd defy mom for you." She replies.

I walk out of the bathroom, slightly limping.

I grab a hoodie and change my pants, security will wonder why there's a girl with blood soaked clothes on. I take it easy, and put on pant leg at a time. I try to be careful with the left leg, it still hurts like hell. I yank the zipper up on my pants and push the metal button into the hole.

I scrub my fingers until the red, sticky blood is gone.

I grab my phone from the table and sneak outside. I take off running through a few bushes. The clouds grow dark and weary.

Finally, I approach the hospital. The only hospital close to the house. I walk in the automatic doors. The stench of strong cleaners and hand sanitizers is all I smell. I walk over to the sign in desk.

"Afternoon ma'am." A lady greets me. She's tan, dark hair, dark eyes, wearing a Hello Kitty scrub, and perfectly manicured nails. She smiles wide, almost like she's forcing it.

"Hello, my friend was taken here about maybe an hour ago, his name is Jack Wilson. He was shot in the chest." I explain. She begins typing, her nails making a click on each key. After a moment, she looks back up at me and sighs.

"He's still in ICU, he was scheduled for surgery about a half an hour ago. He might be back around, maybe 4." She replies, looking at her watch. I look at the clock hanging on the wall, it reads 1 pm on the dot.

"A guy came in here with him, Cameron Mitchell. Tall, shaggy blonde-ish hair, green eyes. Do you know where he would be?" I ask.

She looks in the waiting area and points to him. He's sitting in the corner, a dark area in the room. Only a few people are sitting in the waiting area, all scattered around. Two older women, and an older gentleman.

I walk over to him and sit next to him. His head is in his hands. His hands resting on his knees. His body is shaking.

"Come here." I say softly, he leans over the arm of the chair and rests his head on my chest. I run my fingers through his hair.

"Why don't you go freshen up, I'll be here if they have any news." I whisper. He gets up and looks at me. His eyes are puffy and red from crying, as if he had cried an entire river. His color drained from his body.

For now, we sit, and wait.