Another F***ing Werewolf Story

sweat of the night

Chapter 3

☾☽☾☽☾☽

My arms screamed in denial as I threw another jab at the weighted punching bag, my breath hissing between my teeth with control. My biceps and triceps felt like they were being pulled toward the floor by some unknown force as my once staggering punches grew weaker and weaker. 

Stupid Declan...Stupid Hector...Stupid car! Ugh! 

"Alright, that's enough, your form is weak and those punches are just plain pitiful," Coach Zan sighed as he pulled the bag away from me, the incomplete punch causing me to topple forward and faceplant into the bag. "Honestly, Alice, where's your head at? Those jabs couldn't even knock over a cardboard cut out."

I sent a silent glare up at Zan, his creased face studying me for a moment.

Zander King was a silver fox, as ma liked to call him when dad wasn't around. Salt and pepper hair, thick muscles, tribal tattoos from training in foreign countries. I told mom he looked sporting and she told me she ought to slap me for saying something so bland about Coach Zan. His only drawback was a long scar across his right eyebrow. He told me he obtained the scar in an underground fight in Israel when he was young and dumb. I didn't dare ask why he was there. 

"I'll be damned," He snorted, leaning on the bag for support as a wicked grin stretched over his face and he began to cackled. "You finally sprouted some ovaries, Wise? Got your eye on a boy?"

"I hate you..." 

Who better to talk to than my Coach? My coach who knew absolutely everything about me. Even the things I wish he hadn't. Like when I got my first period in the middle of a sparring drill and knocked him out when he let his guard down because he had been trying to tell me. 

"Hey, Zander," I asked hesitantly, rocking backward to sit on my butt, playing with the white tape that was flaking off of my tightly bound fists. "What do you know about Hector Luciano's family?" 

Zander's grin fell from his face instantaneously  and he stood up straight. 

"Why?"

"Rumor has it he has a...cousin in town. Declan. I was wondering if you knew him?" 

"That's the story they're going with..." Zan grumbled, his face staring toward the ground as he rubbed his neck. "Alice, you're a good person, alright. You've come so far in life and the odds were stacked against you right from the start. Declan isn't the kind of guy you want to get to know. And we need to leave it at that."

"Why?"

"Because I said. Now, If you aren't going to take your training seriously tonight-," He rocked awkwardly on his heels glancing at his watch. I could tell what he was doing. Balancing the weight between giving me my answers or letting me go on strike...if I went on strike I would root myself to this spot with the threat to leave after curfew. 

And Zander would hate to run that gamble. He seemed just as equally eccentric about my curfew cutoff as my mother. 

"Why is Declan bad news?"

"Jesus, Ali," Coach sighed tiredly and folded his arms stubbornly across his chest as he glared at me. "You're on quite the roll today, aren't you?"

I merely tapped my wrist patiently. 

"Brat...Okay, the last time Declan was here was about six years ago. He finished his degree at Princeton recently and is sweeping back through....is their cover story. Look, Declan is involved in some dark things, trying to recruit some young people fresh out of high school to do his bidding, just like he was. You've got a good head on your shoulders. Just do what you've been taught, make it off the East Coast with no problems, and get to California, okay? Don't think about Declan anymore?"

Easy. Stop thinking about Declan. I could do that. 

I would just think about Cali. 

Good ol' California. 

The sandy beaches of Malibu, the broadleaf palms, the hazy orange sunsets, falling asleep in a hammock, waking up to Declan's grizzled lips grazing mine, coaxing me into a hot, wet consciousness that would stir a pool of heat into my panties as well as he slowly traces his fingers down the seam of my inner thigh-,

Fuck! Okay, nope, that's not working. 

I slumped against my car, sweaty per usual, basking in the glow of the night. 

I did not even spare a fleeting glance at boys this morning. Now? The mere mention of his name...I shivered...What made Declan so dark? So mysterious? Those whiskey brown eyes that got me drunk with just one look definitely did something...And if he really did go to a prestigious Ivy League school what is up with those delicious tattoos? 

Oh, good god, Alice, get a grip!

I finally decided it would be best to get in my car and head home before my pounding head began to get the better of me. I pouring sweat, in fact, it was leaking off of me like I was still training. I quickly fumbled with my keys and cut on the car, hissing as the icy AC touched my wet skin. I decidedly rolled down the windows, because whatever this heat within me was, it was only getting hotter. 

I was practically hanging my head out the window, trying to snuff out the heat that was spreading through me like an intense brush fire. Like grabbing the wrong end of a curling iron and I just couldn't let go. Ouch! 

So hot...need out...I felt so confused, my thoughts were all jumbled, and anxiety pushed the accelerator toward the floorboard. The faster I got home, the faster I could get mom to take care of this killer fever for me. I felt like I was hallucinating. 

My headlights began to double and I blinked aggressively. 

I became keenly aware of my phone ringing for the third time.

The clock on my dashboard read 11:22 p.m.

At least I wasn't thinking about Declan. 

Crap...

Oh, the curfew!

Is that a dog in the road? 

I couldn't move my feet fast enough. It was as if they were filled with magma, weighting me toward the floorboard. The headlights fanned over the animal standing on the blacktop like a spotlight, and indeed, I could see it was a coyote. It shrank back in fear and tried to scramble away from my car. 

This way. That way. 

Left. Right.

Freeze. 

I gasped. 

Shit, even the air burned!

I picked up my horrendously heavy foot and stomped on the break and snatched the wheel to the right to avoid the cowering wild animal. 

And suddenly I was trail riding through the ditch, I tried pulling the wheel back onto the road, feeling my back end fishtailing....when suddenly I heard two noises that could have been mistaken for gunfire. 

I wished they were. 

My car stopped. 

And I felt it sinking on one side as the air left the two tires I had just popped on some unknown force in the ditch. 

The clock on the dashboard gleamed:

11:30 p.m.

And my phone began to ring again. 

(A/n) I don't think I wrote this scene right so if there is any confusion then like 100% let me know and comment.