Pack or Prey (Wolfblooded book 1)

Chapter 8

July 3rd 2011 1:23 p.m.

Three hours. That's how much sleep I managed to get. After Jackson was taken away by the paramedics, I’d stayed behind to answer a few questions and help out the staff any way I could.

A lot of the customers had skipped out on their bills, and the chaos had left a bigger mess than usual.

The police were still taking statements when Liz asked me for a ride home. She’d been shaken up a bit, but physically she was okay and cleared to go. I drove her home and stayed for a few hours while she calmed back down. In all honesty, she probably could have driven herself, but I think we were both looking for comfort after what happened. I know I was.

I was still trying to forget the sight of Jackson's blood staining the sidewalk.

We talked a bit about her future at The Velvet Rope, but I couldn't help but wonder if she was having second thoughts about working there. After everything, I was pretty sure Liz was scared off for good, but it was just one of those things I would have to wait and see.

By the time I had gotten home, it was three in the morning and it took another couple of hours to fall asleep. When my eyes opened at 8:15, all I wanted to do was yank the covers over my head and shut out the world, but my body wouldn't let me sleep any longer.

I drove up to the small yellow house and parked on the opposite side of the street. After taking a moment to pull my face together, I got out of the car and walked up the stone steps to the front door, clutching a small arrangement of yellow carnations to my chest. My finger hesitated over the doorbell for a moment, but I forced myself to push the small button, hearing the sharp buzz inside.

A tall woman, somewhere in her mid to late-twenties, opened the door and stared out at me.

Her hair was brown, straight, and gathered in a messy loop at the back of her neck. Her face, though pretty, was void of any makeup which made her eyes seem small and worn compared to the rest of her features. When I didn't greet her, the woman's brow knitted together and she cleared her throat.

"Yes?" she said. "Can I help you?"

"Sorry. I'm Harley. I just wanted to, uh... stop by and," I moved the flowers in my arms as I spoke, hoping to show her what I couldn't seem to verbalize.

The woman gave me a soft but tired smile and pushed the door open wider. "Of course.

Won't you, please, come in?" She held her arm out offering to let me inside.

I gave her a tight smile and stepped in, looking around the living room as the door shut behind me. The house was warm and inviting, but the ghosts of harder times hung in the air. The woman stepped out from behind me and reached for the flowers, politeness and kindness still in her voice.

"Let me put these in some water, I'll be right back."

"Alright," I said, relieved to get another moment to compose myself.

When the woman disappeared into a side room, I let myself take in the full view of the living room. I stepped over to the empty fireplace and glanced over the array of pictures arranged on the mantle. In a few different frames there were pictures of nameless people. Some were celebrating, others more demure. There were three of the woman who had let me in, but her face was brighter. Happier. One picture, in particular, made me smile.

The brunette and Jackson were laughing hard; a candid shot. Both of their faces had a green and white mess smeared across them and their hands held plates and small pieces of cake.

Jackson's scary, towering form was a lot gentler and his bald head was adorned with a green party hat. I'd never seen Jackson look so playful. He was a sweetie, and a joker, but this was downright endearing.