Pack or Prey (Wolfblooded book 1)

Chapter 13, Part 1

July 10th 2011 3:45 a.m.

The next few days were a blur, and I wasn't sure if it was partly due to my newfound appreciation for Jim Beam. I hadn't talked to Liz since kicking her out of my apartment, but my phone had been going off non-stop.

Most of the calls were from her. Calls every couple hours starting the morning after she left, voice-mail alerts, and unread texts filled the void left by her absence. I couldn't answer. I couldn't bring myself to talk to her, or listen to the many voicemails she'd left. I didn't want to hear what she had to say. Not yet. I thought I'd been ready to accept it and move on, but as it turned out, I still needed time to process this.

Even Jackson tried to call me, and while I was itching to hear how he was doing, I knew the topic of his call would be Liz. He was the Velvet Rope's unofficial mediator. He wanted to see everyone happy. Unfortunately, I wasn't ready to accept what I'd learned about our friend, and I couldn't just tell Jackson why I was so upset.

I could only imagine the explanation Liz was giving everyone for our little spat.

I went back to work, and she was nowhere to be seen. I was able to glean from the other girls that she had called in for the next few days; family problems or something like that. I knew her family lived out of state, not sure where, but I also knew that they didn't get along. Knowing exactly what that was like, I seriously doubted that was what was going on.

I tried to remember what when the last full moon had been. Was that why she calling off? Maybe it was that time of month for her, a phrase which took on a whole new meaning now. Or maybe she had called off because of me.

It wasn't until I was cashing out that I was able to remember the moon had been just past its first quarter when she'd saved me from that wolf attack. There would still be another week or so before the full moon, which meant Liz either really did go see her family or she really was avoiding me at all costs.

Why did that thought make the tears flow?

"Harley, is everything okay?"

Jackson appeared behind me. I must have been really out of it to not have heard him. A man that large should be heard coming long before I saw him.

I turned in my stool and wrapped my arms around him, as far as they would go, and pressed my face into his chest squeezing tight. I could feel him tense under me, could feel the stiffness in his muscles before my memory snapped back to me.

"Oh my God, Jackson! I'm sorry you're still hurt!" I released him instantly.

He laughed softly and relaxed with my release, shaking his head and making the large hoop earrings lining his earlobe clang against one another.

"I can take it, angel. You don't pack that much of a punch."

He flashed me a wry grin before it vanished again. His large hand moved to my face and knuckles wiped at the wetness on my cheeks.

"You should call her," he said with that mysterious understanding he always managed to have.

I could argue that it wasn't about Liz, but then what else would it be? It had been a hard stressful week, sure, but not having my best friend around to relax with, to cry with... It was unbearable.

I turned away from him, wiping my tears away as I collected my tips for the night and put them into my wallet. I had been the one avoiding her calls for the last two days. So why was I so upset that she skipped work to avoid me?

"I can't. Not yet."

"Harley—"

"It's complicated, Jackson. I know it's cliché as fuck, but it's true. I can't even begin to explain it to you."