Running

Chapter Twelve: Will Forrest

"How could you?!"

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Iris's POV:

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I look in confusion at Aaron. "What?"

"What's so damn bad," he snarls, "that you had to try and kill yourself?"

I look at him in shock before anger washes over me. "You don't know me! You don't know why!"

"That's why I'm asking!" he roars, making me cower against the cold hospital bed frame. "Why did you---"

"I can't tell you," I whisper, squirming. He ignores my protests.

"I mean---"

"Aaron."

"---I was nice, you were cold, but I was nice---"

"Aaron."

He stalks towards where I lay. "I told you, you can tell me anything, but instead----"

"Aaron!"

"---you hurt me?!"

His swinging fist slams down on my thigh. I cry out in pain and scream, "Dr. McAllen!"

The doctor sprints in and says in a low, dangerous voice, "Boy, you better leave. Now."

"Iris," Aaron stumbles, coming towards me. He looks astounded. Shocked. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean----"

"Now."

I don't realize I'm crying until the hot tears pour down my face. I whisper, furious, "Go. Just go. I hate you."

A shocked, pained look flashes across his handsome face. Then he leaves, Dr. McAllen hot on his trails.

I wait for a few moments before a young nurse announces that I have yet another visitor. I expect it to be Uncle Rodney or something, but instead it's someone I would never have expected.

It's Will Forrest.

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Aaron's POV:

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As soon as I leave the room, Dr. McAllen slams me up against the wall. Oh, yeah, he's a werewolf.

"How dare you," he seethes, spittle flying on my face, "hurt that girl. No one can hurt that darling girl! No one!"

Why is he getting so worked up? He's know her for, what, a day or two?

What am I thinking? How could I hurt my beautiful, smart, wonderful, kind Iris? How could I lay a finger on her? I despise myself. I want to scream, punch, kick, but I hold it in. I'm an Alpha, and I have to look cold and stone-faced.

"What's the big deal?" I act like I'm cool and indifferent. "She's nothing special. I mean, honestly, look at her. She looks like a freakin' homeless person."

Murderous rage splashes across the surprisingly strong doctor's face before he bangs my head hard across the metal wall.

"I will make sure you don't see her again here," he promises me lowly. "Leave. Now."

"Yes, sir," I say sarcastically. On the inside, I'm burning in my own personal hell.

Oh, Iris. What have I done?

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