Broken Kiss (a Teen Wolf story)

Part 26

        If the kid didn’t shoot him in the first thirty seconds, then he wasn’t going to shoot him at all. Probably. But Peter could barely force a fraction of his attention on the deputy. His every sense was attuned to Lydia, to the pound of her heart and the way she worried the ends of her sleeves in her fingers. He had pried himself open to reveal his feelings and she hadn’t responded, not really. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so exposed in his life.

            Now the kid had barged in, interrupting what should have been, what needed to be, a private moment. He needed more time with her. Anyone else would have been fine. Lydia’s mother could have arrived and it would have been easier to navigate her. But Parrish was young and good-looking – in a distastefully wholesome kind of way – and worse, he was a good guy. All straightforward and earnest, all serve and protect. A poster child for the ideals Lydia yearned for. A human mirror to hold up and reflect all of Peter’s flaws.

            Maybe he should goad the kid into shooting him so he would have an excuse to kill him. Except… Lydia hovered in the doorway, looking back and forth between them. A thread pulled loose from her sweater and hung from her wrist. She prided herself on being well put-together, and she didn’t even notice the unraveling thread. That wasn’t good. He would not shed blood in this place – her sanctuary – not unless it was absolutely required.

            “What are you doing here?” Parrish asked, his voice lowering. Why did males feel the need to do that? As if choosing a deeper register equated to increased strength.

            “He’s-” Lydia started.

            “I’m asking him.” Parrish cut her off.

            “No,” Lydia retorted. “This is my house, so if you feel the need to ask questions, you will direct them toward me.”

            He wanted to leap up and grab her, kiss her and never stop kissing her. The iron inside of her, the fire. Talia had been an alpha at the head of a large pack, groomed from birth, and she couldn’t have held a candle to Lydia. He didn’t deserve her, but he didn’t care. Now that he knew about her, her beauty and strength and depths, he didn’t want anyone else.

            Startled, the deputy glanced at her, and his tension ratcheted up a notch. Peter set down the little knife and turned on the stool, putting his back to it. Whatever would help the kid calm down.

            “Fine,” he ground out. “What is he doing here?”

            “We’re talking, not that it’s any of your business. “

            “About what?”

            She huffed out an irate laugh. “And that really isn’t any of your business, Deputy.”

            “I’ll remove him from the premises if you’d like.”

            Peter rolled his eyes. As if that was going to happen.

            “I mean, I’m new to all this,” Parrish said, licking his lips and turning so that his body hid the movement of his hand as he unsnapped his holster. “But it seems to me that if someone was able to get inside your head and manipulate you while he was dead, it might be even easier for him to do it while he’s alive. Isn’t manipulation his MO?”

            She winced, and that tiny jolting shudder smashed into him with the force of a train. Peter felt sick, angry and disappointed all at once. Hadn’t he shown her that he was better, nearly whole and wholly devoted to her? Didn’t she know that he wouldn’t do that, even if he could? Her chin dipped and her gaze darted toward him, worry darkening her eyes.

            He smiled, even as he felt something tearing inside of him. It was all he could do. No matter what he felt, he couldn’t tear the deputy’s throat out for bringing up the blackest thing between them. And he wouldn’t yell at him to leave, not when Lydia had just asserted herself over the situation.

            “You are,” Lydia said, and Peter stilled beneath the weight of her somber gaze. But then she turned to the deputy. “You are new to all this, and a lot of things you see are going to be difficult to comprehend. Some will be impossible, and you’ll have to figure out how to live with knowledge that goes against everything you’ve ever been taught. Everything that seems possible. You told me you have an open mind, Parrish. That’s a good thing, but it doesn’t mean you have to believe everything people tell you.

            “Now, Peter and I are talking. There is no crime in that, and nothing going on here will disturb my sensitive neighbors.” She turned, gesturing toward the door. “I’m sure you have better things to do than speculate on what I do with my evenings.”

            Her outstretched arm didn’t waver, and the deputy finally, begrudgingly, followed her command. Peter listened to them walk through to the front. The door opened and closed, and Lydia stayed there for a moment. He stood before she returned, unwilling to take what was coming sitting down.

            “I’ll take care of the car,” he said.

            “And then what?”

            He couldn’t read her tone, but the stiffness in her shoulders spoke loudly.

            “It’s late, Lydia. He’ll call Stilinski, who’ll probably call your friends if he doesn’t come here himself.”

            “So?”

            “I’ll come back another time.”

            “Why?”

            Something fell inside of him, just tumbled out of him and smashed onto the floor. Lydia shook her head, impatient.

            “Coming back means you’re leaving. Why not just stay?”