The Pack

Chapter 15

(A/N) around 2,400 words this time. The pack is only 169 reads away from 2000 which is freakin cool as heck!!! Warning, this chapter could be kind of bad for young kids (just towards the end, the first part is fine)

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I sat on Max's plush couch in his grand room. The sun was high in the sky and shining through the large windows along the walls. He was pacing in front of me, I was sitting next to Ciara, and she was biting her nails nervously.

Amanda was placed in Aidan's lap on the reclining chair, acting as if she didn't have a care in the world as she picked at her nail polish. Aidan didn't seem very amused either though, staring at the ground with a blank expression.

I didn't really know how I was acting, I wasn't pacing, I wasn't biting my nails, I wasn't sweating. I felt like I was sitting on a couch. That was about it; I wasn't doing anything.

I felt fine, like it was a normal weekend. The only feeling I had that was relatively uncomfortable was the dry blood cracking and flaking off along my hands and arms.

"I want to take a shower," I spoke, finally glancing up from my lap I didn't even realize I was staring at, and up at Max, who paused his pacing for a moment to look at me.

"Alright, go on," He said, I noticed he had bit his lip- it was bleeding.

I stood up then and turned around to see the mess of dried blood flakes I had made on the couch. Ciara looked at me and giggled sheepishly.

"I'm sorry," I said,

She shrugged, "It's okay, we can just flip the cushions, or vacuum it,"

"Yeah, I'll do that later," I nodded before setting off towards the stairs.

I could hear Max mumbling something to them as I made my way up the stairwell, but I couldn't hear real words. I heard the concern in his soft voice though, which made me feel almost safe.

I didn't take long before I stripped off the robe I was still wearing and hopped in a boiling stream of water.

It felt good to wash all of the blood off of me, but my thoughts always caught up with me in the shower. I wondered if my mother was okay, but then I remembered she wasn't my mother anymore, and she was gone now, I wouldn't have to worry about her terrorizing me anymore.

It was hard for me to battle myself; should I care about her because she took care of me, up until this point, or should I hate her because she disowned me.

I wanted to still love her, well, love the woman that was inside of her. But I wondered if she really was gone. Had I lost both parents?

I wish my dad was back, I wish we never went to Alaska and I wish I never met Zayn- which was saying a lot. I questioned if he was my soul mate honestly. He came in my life at the most inopportune moment, but he made it all seem worth it. That's how love worked. It was like a man falling in love with a woman, just a week before he deploys for the army, or like a woman falling in love with a man, but a month later he dies. Love hurts, but sometimes it's a good hurt. You wonder if you should be happy for the moment you had, or sad that those moments were so short or at such a bad time.

I never believed in love before this point. I never believed that anyone on earth would actually take a bullet for someone. My parents were never too close with each other, it's not like they fought, but I can't remember the last time I saw them kiss.

My mother was still broken at the death of my father, but I wondered if it would be any different if the roles were switched. I wondered if I was the only reason they stayed together.