Hers (#1)

21| and a shot a paranoia

Everything about the inside is as discreet and monochrome as the outside. If I didn't know any better I would assume I was just in some small town hospital or even a school medical unit. My jean clad legs were hauled against the alabaster tiles until the goon halted. I hear the click of a door opening and I am tossed into a small room with a brown chair and table at the corner.

"Stay," he warns and slams the door shut.

After he leaves, I painstakingly lift myself off the linted carpet. The slice in my leg throbs angrily as I limp towards the plastic chair. I sit down in a pained huff and rub my right thigh. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Am I going to die? Is this how I'm going to die? In some crazy house in the middle of nowhere?

The sky is azure and rich and the hums of birds fill the empty spot of the opened window. It's a beautiful day. Apparently I wasn't important enough for the slightest hint of pathetic fallacy. It was like the universe knew that I was going to die in a shithole in the middle of China and decided to make today a lovely day for swimming or some shit. Jesus, pull it together Marcus. I shake my head. You're getting delirious.

I needed to think of a way to escape. But how? As far as I knew, we could be 5 of 500 miles away from Dali and the safehouse. If I even attempted to leave this room I would be ripped to shreds by Kraken. And even if somehow I could escape, I wouldn't know how to get back to the Pack anyways.

The familiar tick of a clock brought my attention to the spot on my left. A small clock. White, black lettering. The hands read 1:50.

1:50? Shit, I should have arrived by now! The guards at the safe house must be calling the Pack now, telling Lana that I'm nowhere to be found. I suddenly feel a headache coming on. Why? Why is this happening?

The door swing open and the blond haired bitch walks in. "Marcus--"

"Shut the fuck up."

She sighs for the hundredth time. "Marcus, could you just hear me out please?"

"Hear you out?" I exclaimed hysterically. "Oh sure, why not. Would you like to have one of your men cut my other leg as well?"

"I didn't want to resort to hurting you. I needed Lana off our trail. Why do you care about her anyways?" I don't answer and she probes further, taking my silence as a chance to explain herself.

"I mean, look at what she did to you. She fucking kidnapped you. Is that the kind of person you want to spend your life with?"

"Oh, as opposed to a crazy, bitter human who lies to me? Who thinks she knows what I want? Who thinks she knows me because we're both human?" My words obviously sting her but she doesn't backtrack. She is resolute in her reasoning and I wonder how long it took her to delude herself to thinking this. "We're mates, idiot," I bite back, pulling down my collar to expose my mark. "You're two weeks too late."

Her eyes widen at the sight and she lets out a small strangled sound. "No. Why would you--"

I cut her off before she can continue. "Nope. Whatever you have to say, I've probably heard it before. I don't care what you think. It's done and I love her. Suck it up." Her mouths opens and closes for a good minute before she shuts it, leaving us in silence.

After a considerable pause, she speaks again."I need to change your bandage before it gets infected," her voice is soft, tentative and it disgusts me. She's still putting on this act?

"A little pointless, don't you think? Since you're going to kill me anyways."

"I told you that you're not going to die."

I scoff. "Everything that comes out of your mouth is either a lie or a diversion. I don't believe you."

I notice the pristine first aid box in her left hand. Looking away, I silently refuse her help. What was the point of changing the damn thing? As far as I know, she's gonna have her crazy boss drag me out to the back, chop me up and package me back to the pack piece by piece.