The Wild

-11- Coldhearted People

Copyright © 2014. All Rights Reserved.

            Life was so much simpler when the impossible didn't exist.

            I was sure Bennet would agree with me, as would Amaya, but I couldn't be sure if Mary and John had been exposed to the impossible so long, it no longer phased them. As I sat motionless in Bennet's bedroom, knees propped up against my chest, I recalled Mary and her almost godly appearance at my cabin the night of Brad's attack. It was almost as if she sensed our danger, and instinctively arrived wielding a hunting rifle strapped to her back.

            Was that one of the effects of being the wife to an Alpha? Sensing when danger was around the corner? Because I could sure as hell use that right about now.

            Amaya strayed to the kitchen to retrieve a snack that wouldn't settle funny in our stomachs. It seemed the only thing I could stomach now was water, and even that left a bitter taste in my mouth. Thinking about all the werewolves I'd encountered without even realizing what they were was nauseating. I felt more betrayed than anything. They'd spent their merry time in the diner without even mentioning it once. Sure, it wasn't a topic that most people would want to bring up, like having poison ivy in the wrong spot, but it was reassuring to know so that I'd know to keep my distance.

            Great, now I'm discriminating against them, I mused sourly in my head.

            I was thankful when Amaya blurted out from the kitchen, "Does yogurt sound good?"

            "Yeah, I guess," I answered. Soon she was waltzing in with two cups of yogurt with a plastic spoon sticking out of her mouth. She handed me a cup and a spoon as she sat herself on the edge of the bed and started licking off yogurt from the plastic utensil.

            "What do I say when he gets back?" she asked, shattering the unbearable silence.

            "How should I know?"

            "I don't know. I was hoping you'd be able to help me with this at least a little bit," she admitted, slurring her words together as she frowned hopelessly down at her yogurt. "I feel like it'd be a sort of delayed response, ya know? Like, answering to a text two days later."

            "Too late to take away time now." We synchronized a sigh full of melancholy and each retrieved a spoonful of our helpings of yogurt as if it would give us an answer to all our problems. After a few minutes of silent eating, I found no cure for our dilemma.

            The last we saw of both Mary and John were when I came back to the cabin to inform Mary of the predicament in the garage. She left out the front door and we haven't seen either of them for a good hour. Bennet was still missing, but just as soon as I thought of him, the front door opened and over the sound of the receding rainfall, I picked up on the panting breath of the man we were waiting so long for.

            Amaya squeaked and ditched her yogurt cup on the bedside table before rolling backwards past me and behind the opposite side of the bed. She had herself concealed in a matter of three seconds flat while I still sat there, stunned by the abruptness of her disappearance.

            I barely had a word to say when Bennet waltzed into the bedroom, leaning a hand against the doorframe as he plucked off his shoes. "Where's mom?" he asked, still breathing heavily. His shirt was stained with sweat, and his sweatpants were muddied up around his calves.

            "I... don't know. I think she might be with Brad."

            "Yeah, who is that guy anyway?" he gasped, yanking up his shirt. I hesitated when looking away, only to find Amaya staring up at me with eyes like a starved, fearful cat. If it weren't for the situation, I would have bursted out laughing.