Talk About the Direct Approach...

Chapter Forty-One: By being annoying of course

*Macy's POV*

"I could kill you right now, you know."

I pause, before laughing quietly to myself at the threat. I would have stopped breathing all together had I not been sure this person wouldn't actually kill me.

"Or just strangle you for being so crazy. But you're really lucky someone else didn't," they continue.

My body, which was curled into a tight ball, relaxes immediately at the sound of the mystery person's voice that fills me with relief. I should have guessed by the scent who it was. I mean, a good Luna should be able to recognize her pack member's scents. I assume she should, at least. I haven't exactly been the werewolf Luna yet.

"Well could you do that to my cell mate instead?" I question as I throw the blanket off me. Sitting up, I look at Bethany as she stands in front of the bars. The expression she wears is a mix of at least ten different emotions, the most notable two relief and sadness. "Letting me out, that would be nice too, cause I really have to pee for one."

She bites her lip, holding out both of her hands to her sides to show me they're empty. "Sorry. I don't know where the keys are."

I huff. "Donald—I mean—Donny probably has them." I chortle at the accidental slip of his nickname. Then I sigh, hopping down from my spot and walking over to the bars. "How did you get down here?"

She shrugs, before slipping a hand into her pocket. "I convinced Joshua he needed to take some sleeping pills since he can't sleep."

"A little devious, but me likey," I comment, applauding her. She smiles just a bit, before pulling her hand out of her pocket.

"I came to give you this." She motions for me to hold my hand open, and I look at her suspiciously.

"It better not be a bug or something because I will bitch slap you through these bars," I warn. Her eyes widen, and I smile uneasily when I realize what I said. "Sorry, mood swings. Y'know, the whole being changed thing..."

As soon as I mention it, guilt floods her eyes and she looks away from me. "I'm sorry," she mumbles, quietly to where if I still had my regular, human hearing, I wouldn't have caught it.

I shake my head, telling her it's not her fault. It's my own, I probably provoked Warren to make an ass out of himself and do this. And I did crash the car...

No, screw that. This is all Warren's fault.

She takes a deep breath, composing herself, before putting something in my still open hand. I almost squeal in delight when I retract my hand and see the glint of gold. The chain is broken, but the charm is still fully intact, unscathed.

"You found it?" I question, keeping it securely in my hand and holding it against my chest.

"No, Waylon did."

"I swear I could hug that boy right now," I muse, opening my hand and looking down at the charm. "And you."

I reach my arms past the bars as far as they will go, before latching them behind Bethany and pulling her against the bars. It's a semi-awkward, not at all warm and cozy hug, but I think it gets the message across.

"Macy," Bethany mumbles. "I'm eating a bar right now."

I laugh when I look up and see her face smashed against one of the metal bars.

"It's a good source of iron, at least." She rolls her eyes at me, and I release my arms from around her. Then the sound of footsteps—lots of them—reach us and I sigh. "You might want to leave before you get groped by these perverts. They're severely lacking in female contact, but I think some of them have resorted to other means of pleasure, if you know what I mean."