Lost Boy | Carlisle Cullen |

ELEVEN

James had sent the text hours before but wasn't particularly concerned with how long the response was taking due to the inability to stare at the screen or even stay awake for longer than twenty minutes at a time. Near the end of the day, a few hours after he should have eaten dinner, he finally started to feel like he wouldn't fall over if he stood up. James looked at his phone and began to feel nervous, still no response to the text he had sent in the morning. Instead of dwelling on it, though, he decided to step out and get something to eat at the bar downtown. 

Clad in jeans and a plain white t-shirt, he slipped into his car and drove fifteen minutes across town. It was dark out and the town didn't have street lights to illuminate the roads. James appreciated that the drive into town was short, it differed from his commutes when he lived in bigger cities. It was easy to park, not very many cars were in the lot, and James braved the cold as he made his way from his car to the front entrance of the bar. 

He sat at a high top and waited for a waitress to come by and take his order, he wanted a coffee more than anything at that moment. Well, a coffee and a response. The lighting was dim, he was quite grateful for that. Two officers sat in the booth behind him, they may have been attempting to speak in hushed tones, but it was easy to hear the conversation. 

"I still can't believe Wayland is dead," one of them muttered, James' eyes widened.

"I still don't understand why we're on the case and not animal control, they've been ruled as animal attacks, I'm not hunting wolves," the other groaned. 

James always had a bad habit of listening in on nearby conversations. He knew of the name Wayland but didn't remember why. He also wasn't sure why the police were keeping the animal attacks private, citizens should know when they're in danger. 

"Good Evening, sir, can I get you started with something to drink?" A short girl with light brown hair approached him with a notebook in hand. 

"Can I just get coffee, please?" He smiled.

"Cream and sugar?"

"Just black," he shook his head. 

James kept glancing at his phone, especially when a notification caused the device to vibrate. Each notification started to anger him more and more because none of them were from Carlisle. The coffee appeared on his table and he ordered a plate of fish and chips. At one point, he placed his phone as far away from him as possible so that he wouldn't be tempted to look at it. All he wanted was a response, he wasn't sure why it wasn't coming through. 

After finishing the plate of food and the second cup of coffee, cash was placed in the middle of the table and James grabbed his coat and keys. It was even colder stepping back out into the night. The wind picked up and caused his face to feel like ice. Before he unlocked his car he felt another gush of wind, this one was different though. He looked to his right and saw a man wearing nothing but jeans and a black leather jacket. He scrunched his brow and stepped back, the man wasn't even wearing shoes. 

"You forgot this," the man held James' phone between his thumb and index finger.

"Thanks," James attempted to grab the phone but the man moved his hand too quickly. 

"I smell him on you," the man grinned a bit psychotically. 

James looked around, beginning to feel nervous, "What?"