Red Moon Rising

50. red

Chapter Song: Curs in the Weeds - Horse Feathers

XX

"I'm glad you're awake," she says, and I can't help but stare at her pretty dark eyes that are too much the same shape as Jack's to be a coincidence. She shares his hair though it's touched by gray, the dimple in his right cheek when smiling, the curve of his nose. "I'm Red. How are you feeling?"

"Not all there."

"You just need more rest. I'm sorry about Jack, I told him not to bother you until you'd had a chance to actually sleep."

"How long have I been here?" I follow her hands as they slip along the IV tube, checking that the bag's drip rate. "And...who are you?"

I think for a moment that I could overpower her. With Jack gone, she is the only thing stopping me from leaving through that door. But then she slips her fingers over mine and squeezes, a gesture that is familiar and gut wrenching, that reminds me of the way my mother always knew just how tightly to hold my hand when I was upset. I watch her eyes drop to the red marks around my wrists. "I'm sorry about the ties," she sighs. "It was my decision; I was worried that you would bleed out."

How long has it been since I've seen another woman's face? She has a nice face, the kind of smile that is eternally youthful despite the few wrinkles gathering at the corners of her eyes. She's wearing heavy copper earrings shaped like the sun and moon, and when she leans closer they catch the wisps of sunlight filtering through the curtains.

"You're his mother, aren't you."

"Sorry, hon," she smiles.

"No," I flush. "It's just—" Does she hate me too? Am I a means to end to her, as I am with her son?

"You don't know who to trust yet, and that's okay. But you're tied to St. Croix now, and we take care of our own."

"Once I tell Jack about Paul..."

"You don't have to tell him anything, if you don't want to. Just stay here long enough to heal and promise me you won't go it alone for awhile."

"I want to leave." I bite my lip, and it's hard to look anywhere but her face when she's staring at me with that earnest expression. "I'm sorry. I'm grateful for what you've all done for me, for what Jack did...but I can't stay here."

"Why is that?"

"I don't belong here."

"You belong wherever you decide to, Layla. Maybe you can just belong here for a little while, until you get your strength back."

"I don't—"

"You're not a burden to us."

"That isn't true. Jack and the others were hurt because of me."

"You think they mind?"

"Probably."

"You don't know my son like I do." She's right, of course, and her smile softens a little as she looks me over. "He's been obsessed with finding Paul ever since Dom—" She swallows then, pulling her hand back into her lap. "He means well."

I remember that look on my dad's face after mom passed, the feverish way his eyes would flick away when her name was mentioned, as if searching for her somewhere beside him. "I'm sorry about your husband," I whisper. "I'm so sorry."

"Dom and I were raised before the packs formed. We always knew one of us could be gone at any minute. But Jack always thought his dad would be around to show him how to run the pack."

"How did you two meet?"

She looks up, a little startled, and the way she smiles tells me she didn't expect me to ask, or care. But it's nice to hear a woman's voice, to have a body so near mine that is relaxed and unthreatening in my presence.