The Choices That We Make Book 1

Chapter 7

           

I sat there, thinking about what that crazy German had said and what happened that one night when Vox held me and sobbed out his sadness for Gilda. Why would Gerty kill her mother? She was only 8 when she killed her? She looked much younger than she was. How was I not dead if I am pregnant? Wouldn't she kill me too?

Everyone had left this morning after our little chat. I just wanted to be alone and safe for once anyway. The humans kept coming to check on me to make sure I was ok. I apparently was taken to one of the few hospitals that treat werewolves. Most of the humans here are mated to werewolves or somehow know about us. It's our way of keeping an eye on them as well. The woman came in for the fifth time that morning and just looked at me. I know my eyes looked dead because that's how I feel inside.

"I can help you."

I didn't respond thinking she meant with pain. I had been out for more than two weeks healing. My back was a complete scar once the skin had finally healed over. I was missing chunks of the back of my thighs and my triceps.

"I can help you hide." That got my attention.

"How? They will just find me."

"No, it has worked before, it can work again. I can hide you, just say yes." She was calm and poised, but speaking in hushed tones.

"Yes." I whispered.

"Let me handle everything. There will be a few werewolves that come to pick you up tonight. Go with them. They will take you to safety."

I didn't want to go with any more werewolves. I thought it was bad in my old pack. This was insanity. I didn't have much choice. Maybe it could be better. I don't see how it could get worse.

I waited patiently for the werewolves to come and take me to my new slaughterhouse. Five hours later, in the dead of night, three enormous werewolves came in. They had to be triplets, which was unheard of in our community. They were dark mocha with shaved heads and practically yellow eyes. The one in front looked at me and motioned for his brothers to come over.

"I told that bitch no more marked ones. You can kind of see it on her left shoulder."

The other two squinted and sighed. Would they not take me because I was marked?

"She's beat to hell anyway." He started sniffing, "and pregnant too."

The third one who had been quiet and standing on the left just kept his eyes on me. He was probably the creepiest of the bunch.

"We take her." From the statue come the words of my salvation, hopefully. The other brothers just grunted and came to pick me up.

I was still healing and it hurt so much, but I didn't want to appear weak. I winced a few times, but kept my composure throughout the rough handling. They walked me right out of the front door of the hospital and to an old Suburban. I was put in back with care and the guys got in. It's always the same formation, one up front, me between the other two. Maybe this was just something all guys practiced. We drove for about four hours in the same direction and I saw a sign for Tacoma Airport. We got on a plane in the tiny airport and flew to North Carolina. That was where some of the meanest packs lived. No one went in their territory. Vox may have been the worst, but these guys were all tied for a close second. I missed back home in good old Colorado. I missed my dingy attic hiding spot. Why couldn't I just be left alone?

When we arrived in a car that resembled the Suburban from early to a house that looked similar to Vox's house, I started to shake. So this is where my life has taken me? To the same thing just in a hotter climate?