Maybe I Was Wrong (Teen Wolf: Stiles Stilinski)

Chapter 38

The door barges open and I flinch back, squeezing my eyes shut in a failed attempt to block out the torturing sound.

"You know, Grace, I really thought you'd stopped going on hunting tri- what's going on?!"

"Be quiet, you idiot," Derek snaps, but Stiles ignores him, rushing to my side to crouch down in front of me.

"What happened? You're hurt- what happened?" he takes my hand and I don't even question it, it just feels natural.

"I- I don't..."

"Scott, you just said you brought her here after a hunt, why the fuck didn't you say she's hurt?" Stiles angrily whisper-shouts.

"We're sure it's just a mild concussion and I didn't want to worry you, come on," Scott says.

"But, like, if this happened while she went hunting, then..." Stiles' head jerks back to me. "What happened to you?"

"My grandfather... Gerard."

"What?! The creepy old guy at the funeral? What did he do?" he asks frantically, squeezing my hand tighter.

"We found an omega stuck in our trap," I begin explaining slowly. "Gerard wanted to teach me a lesson since he heard I was... rebellious, when it comes to hunting. So he ordered me to kill the omega and I... I refused. He was angry, and like, he... pushed me against a tree and said I was worthless and pushed me again and my head was bleeding and I almost passed out and-"

"Stop," Stiles says, his whole body tense, gaze fixed on the floor. "He can't- that's abuse. That's abuse and you're his granddaughter and my dad could lock him up for this I swear-"

"No. That would only create more trouble," I say. "I'm fine, he's just that kind of person-"

"Are you making up excuses for him right now? Grace, I can't let him do this. Freaking werewolf hunter or not, that's illegal. And it's messed up," Stiles says, struggling to keep his voice down.

"He's dangerous, Stiles. For everyone. So just back off," I snap, pulling my hand out of his hold.

"I have to tell my dad," he says.

"You're not gonna tell your fucking dad," I say, feeling a stabbing pain rising in my head at my own raised voice. He just looks at me then, eyes a little wider, confused to no end.

"You're not gonna do anything and I'm gonna go home," I say, getting up and making my way to the door, struggling to keep my balance at first.

"Grace-" Stiles says, placing a hand on my hip to steady me.

"Don't fucking touch me," I sneer, making him pull back his hand in shock. "I don't need your help. Or your pity."

And with that, I leave Scott's house, a guilty heaviness already settling in my stomach.

***

Maybe I was too harsh. Maybe Stiles was right and I need help. The fact that I can barely keep my feet walking forward on the sidewalk proves it. But if he gets himself involved by telling the police, I'm really not sure what Gerard will do. And the danger the werewolves bring is already bad enough.

It's really dark and quiet, apart from the occasional car driving by, and it kind of helps me get my head together again, if just a little.

I'm scared of him. I'm scared of Gerard. I was before he shoved me into the tree, but now that I'm sure he's capable of doing that, I'm frightened. Because apparently it's not just angry werewolves people should be scared of. It's themselves too. And I really already knew that after... Kate, but now it's really sinking in.