Red Moon Rising

57. air

It only took me....7 months to update! Thank you guys for waiting <3 I'm getting back into the groove of writing. Please be patient with me while I find my writing voice again – it may be rocky for a bit.

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Chapter Song: Gum - Moose Blood

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I try not stare at him, afraid that he'll meet my eye, or afraid that he won't.

I think he knows exactly what sort of coward I am. I think he knows how close I came to giving up.

Fuck him for being able to see through me as he always does. Fuck me for caring.

And then I realize that I've been looking at him while we've trudged through the still, snowy night, and that Jack can't even bring himself to look back at me.

"I can smell blood on you." The tightness in his voice is unbearable. You can't even protect yourself, why would you think you could protect anyone else? Protect him? He doesn't need me to worry about him; he doesn't need me.

"I'm fine. Marney fixed me up."

"You don't look fine."

And suddenly I find that my words have run dry, so I look ahead as we reach the St. Croix lodge. Twin lights on either side of the double doors illuminate dim orange orbs in the air shattered by softly drifting snow. Jack opens the door and lets us file inside one by one before slipping in after.

"This way." Jack turns down a hallway to where two men, who I recognize from Dean's posse, are guarding a door. They open it to allow us inside, and I find that I can't breathe. Jack and Marney enter first, and then I step in after and let my eyes wander almost unseeing over the bloody, naked form hunched against the wall.

"Okay," Jack says, and his voice is a little different, an edge to it I've only ever heard him use with Isaac. "Talk. Now."

"Not to you," comes the ragged voice, and the sound of it instantly brings to mind those words, keep moving, as he dragged me back to Isaac for the last time. Max is staring fiercely at me, and I meet his gaze not because I want to, but because I am suddenly frozen as I look at him. His chest is shuddering, blood soaking through the blanket thrown over his shoulders. But his right leg is the worst, slick with blood, chewed flesh gaping obscenely up his calf and thigh, barely even distinguishable as a human limb. They are distinctly the wounds of a leg hold trap on an unsuspecting wolf. I glance quickly up to Jack, but I don't have a chance to speak.

"Yes, to me. You wanted her here, she's here. And you're lucky she's given you that much."

Max is suddenly quiet, but he's staring at me like he's never looked at me before in all the time I've known him. "Layla—"

"Listen," Jack cuts in sharply. "Start talking and Marney will clean you up. That trap cut into your bone—do you think you'll survive the night without help?"

"It's okay," I say suddenly, my words surprising even me. Jack looks quickly at me, and the darkness on his face makes it hard to speak. I don't think the anger there is for me, but it stuns me all the same. It's hard to reckon with his potential to be terrifying. "Just let me talk to him."

Jack touches my elbow and leans in a little closer, and I wish now that he would look away from me again. "Layla, this could all be part of his plan."

"It's not."

"Why do you think you know that?" His voice is tired, tight. Angry.

"Trust me," I say, and I wish my voice had a little more strength to it. "Please."