"Just shine like you always do."
Gwenn Davidson has always known she was adopted, but after clearing up her stuff for her first move out of her parent's house, she finds an old blanket gifted to her by her birth mother that triggers an avalanche of...
"I'm here," she said. "You can stop rehearsing for your one man show."
She didn't bother asking what he wanted. She knew exactly what he wanted. He had made it clear the last time how much of a waste it was for her to keep asking. But after that day, seeing her with Ronan as he worked at his upcoming project, he wanted those plans, those aspirations, so he could hunker down and make something better, and ultimately get the spot Ronan had worked so hard for.
He was not going to get it.
"Do I hear some bite in your tone, Ms. Davidson?" He stalked towards her, swallowing her height as he peered down. His eyes held hers, unwavering and all too powerful. She looked away, preferring to stare at Lockfell's permanent proud face. "Or do my ears deceive me?" He ran a finger down her cheek, tracing her skin until he grabbed ahold of her chin and forced her look at him.
"You want to know what Ronan was working on at the café." It wasn't a question. Ever since she got Wolf's vague message to go to Lockfell Park to meet him, she knew her night would end with him coaxing all the secrets locked in her brain. He would tug at all the strings to get her talking.
"Smart girl," he said, a slow smirk appearing on his lips. He let his finger trail down her neck. "Tell me everything."
She shrugged. "I don't have much to tell you. If you had been more observant, you would've noticed how busy I was with my own work."
His finger froze over the space between her neck and clavicle. Searing eyes narrowed down at her, sizing her up as if to look for a potential weakness, a tell. He leaned closer, almost enveloping her whole with his frame.
"You were with him for most of the day, Gwenn." He gritted out his words, like he was holding back from howling in the middle of the park. "You must know what he was working on."
Again, she gave a half-shrug. "He said he was working on his final project for MNTR, but it's not like he gave me a specific rundown of his plans. I also have final projects to worry about, Wolf. What do you think of a paper about A Vindication of the Rights of a Woman and The Yellow Wallpaper?"
When she raised her hands as a way to demonstrate her idea like a sparkly, new banner in the air, Wolf grabbed her hard and pulled her in close. She lost her balance and smacked her forehead on his chest with a soft yelp. He didn't allow her to straighten her composure, holding her head in place as he leaned his mouth down to her ear.
"Who told you it was alright to speak that way?" he growled.
She bristled and fought against his grip, stumbling backwards. He heaved, shaking his head. His fingers flexed before curling into fists.
"I don't have the information you want," she said, raising her voice. Flutters of bird wings flapped through the air around them. The soft owl hoots silenced as her words filled the park. "I caught glimpses of shapes on his sketches, but none of them made sense. So make of that what you will."
He raised his chin. A quiet challenge.
Gwenn clenched her jaw so tight, her face began to hurt. But she didn't dare look away from Wolf. He surveyed her like he was prodding her with his eyes for the weak spots, not knowing she had come prepared and worn armor to protect herself. Her mouth would remain shut.
Just when she thought he would take the bait, he strolled over again and seized her by the arms. The gasp that threatened to escape her unprepared lips was muffled by his hand as he turned her around, pressing her back against Marshall Lockfell's nameplate and stand. The sudden jolt of hard, jagged brick slamming onto her spine stole her breath. She scrunched up her face, whimpering as Wolf leaned in too close.
"What was he working on, Gwenn?" he gritted out. A single tear trailed down her cheek as he tightened his grip on her. Bruises formed under his violent touch. Her whole body wanted to scream out, but he had her caged between him and the statue. "Tell me what he was working on now."
Trembling, she attempted to move around to get some distance and control, but Wolf only grabbed her before slamming her again.
"I don't know," she croaked. "I... just saw shapes and him shading stuff with a pencil and a bunch of rulers. I don't know how all of that works."
He let go of one of her arms to grab her jaw, locking her in place where he wanted her to be: staring at him without anywhere to go. Tears pricked her eyes as she shuddered.
"Think back to your conversations," he said. "Was there something he said to you? Did he reveal anything that might even hint at what he's doing?"
She scrambled her head for a crumb to feed his ravenous hunger. Something that might even satiate enough for her to let go. Instead, his grip on her arms tightened and tightened until she choked on her sobs.
She needed a lie.
"You're hurting me." Her plead did nothing. He didn't flinch nor hesitate with his attempts to get information. It was like she didn't matter. And, hidden in the shadows of Marshall Lockfell, no one could see what he was doing.
Not like there's anyone here, she thought.
"I know your pretty brain has what I want, blondie," he said. "Now give it."
"I..." Ache sprouted from her arms, clouding her head. "Uh... I think. A motor. He said he was going to try to make a fast motor."
All at once, Wolf let go with one last slam of her body against the brick statue stand. Her legs could barely hold her up as she looked up at him, pressing his lips so close to her ear.
"Now was that so hard?" he whispered. She gulped as he stepped away, never taking his eyes away from her.
Instead of turning around to leave, he retreated into the dark backwards. The thumps of his footsteps grew fainter as the night swallowed him whole, and she was alone. She crumbled forward, heaving over cobblestones in a ragged mess, and allowed herself to dissolve into a puddle of tears.
Her body felt battered and bruised like she was thrown around like a piece of trash. Her limbs shook every time she tried moving. Her cries worsened her condition, adding a severe headache on top of everything. She breathed in and out in quick succession, hoping to calm herself enough to get out of there.
When she labored her breathing, she reached back into her back pocket and fetched her phone, wincing at the cracked screen. Though her body cried out, pleading to give up and slump into a heap, she fought hard enough to dial the first number she could find.
"Hey, G, what's up?" Scarlet asked, answering within three seconds.
Gwenn sobbed as her shoulders sagged. "Please, help me."
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