Bite Me.

Ch 4

My week at Helen's turned into two and before I knew it a month had passed. While I wanted to go home, the thought of yellow eyes had me hesitant. Helen refused to let me go back while my ankle was still healing and reassured me whenever I felt I was overstaying my welcome. My ankle healed surprisingly fast and by the end of the month only a red scar was visible. Helen commented that it was remarkable and Phil agreed. Heath was quiet but looked queasy at the mention of it. Maybe he had a thing against blood.

Heath also ended up staying longer than he'd intended. They'd found mold in one of the walls in the basement and it took them three weeks to get rid of it and fix the mess they made. So I saw quite a bit of him since we were only one room apart. I never saw that melancholy look from him again, but there was a tension between us that I couldn't figure out. But whatever it was, it didn't stop him from having lunch with me whenever I worked. We'd sit in the corner booth and chat like old friends, though I mostly just pestered him about Cliffy but he never relented and I resigned to never really finding out. It was enough just to see the cute blush on the rare times he earned the nickname

Oscar came to stay and made himself at home. He slowly wiggled his way into everyone's' hearts, including Heath's. In fact, more nights than not, the little traitor would slink off and sleep in Heath's bed leaving me alone. For his part, Heath would bring him back in the mornings so I always woke up to a cuddly cat. At first, I had balked at the thought of him seeing me sleeping, but I found the gesture endearing and couldn't bring myself to complain too loudly.

.Finally, Heath announced he'd be moving back home. Throughout the week, him and Phil had taken various belongings to the Branson mansion. The flurry of activity and knowledge that I'd soon be a solitary guest spurred me into action. No one had seen hide nor hair of the wolf and hunters combed the woods every day. Feeling safe and wanting to go home, I announced Friday night at supper that I'd be heading home in the morning. Helen had protested but understood my want to go back. She promised a goody bag to send with me and Phil promised he'd take Oscar back in the morning so I wouldn't have to worry about it before work. Heath looked resigned and was quiet for the rest of dinner but never said anything.

Saturdays were always busy at Something Blue and the morning flew by, only interrupted once by the chiming of my phone. Phil had sent a selfie with a very peeved looking Oscar with a quick text saying everything looked good at the apartment and to have a great day. Bless that man. Heath stopped in for lunch as per usual. He turned heads in his dark jeans and leather jacket with a grey t-shirt and a light denim layer peeking out. We sat in "our" booth like we had the whole month and fell into our regular routine and lunch was relaxed like always. We chatted about mundane things like the weather, the happenings of Branson Mills – there wasn't much, and his new projects. The mills were slowly chugging along and with the house livable, he had his hands full. When he mentioned all the furniture he was trying to set up, I perked up and he noticed. "You're more than welcome to come over and help me if you ever want to, Mira," he volunteered with a smirk. "Really?" I asked practically bouncing up and down in my seat. That just made him laugh, a deep belly laugh that left me stupefied. "Old houses are a guilty pleasure of mine and I love antique furniture," I explained, trying to divert attention when he caught me staring. That just made him raise his eyebrows and look at me in surprise. I just shrugged, keenly aware of the tension that was back between us.

"Mira?" A voice both had us starting as we looked up in surprise. "Tyler?" I asked once I saw the familiar police uniform and handsome face. "Can I talk to you in private?" he asked quietly, his eyes never leaving my face. I glanced at Heath in worry before nodding and standing up. "Be right back," I muttered and followed Tyler to the back of the shop. I could still see the booth and Heath was watching us like a hawk, his brows furrowed, but otherwise his face unreadable. "What's wrong, Tyler? You're kinda freaking me out," I said with a fake chuckle trying to break the serious expression on his face. His brown eyes just looked at me with sympathy and he ran his hand through his matching brown hair. His young face was pained was doing nothing to ease my worry. "Mira, this isn't going to be easy to hear. I think you should sit down," he said with a hand on my back as he directed me to a nearby stool. Now I was well and worried and just wanted to know what the heck he was talking about. I think he saw my impatience because he took a deep breath and got out his phone. Holding it out, I took it and squinted, trying to make out what I was seeing. It looked like a broken window of some sort. I looked closer and saw a pool of blood next to a familiar curtain. "Tyler, why are you showing me this? Why is there blood? What happened? And why do these people have the same curtain I do?"