Chapter 13
Avery
"Please don't hate me." Pete had begged me. What the hell! His words keep echoing around and around in my mind. My thoughts are a jumbled mess right now; I don't know what I should think about him.
Honestly, I'm pretty sure I don't hate him. How could I? He's always been good to me, and he saved me from my former bullies and those rogue wolves. He couldn't be all that bad, could he? But how could he have done all those things to his mate. Especially when a mate was supposed to be the one who meant everything to him. If I understand what Pete and Andrew told me correctly, then Pete should have loved and cherished this Jaxon guy more than anything. Yet, he told me himself about all the terrible things he did. It's just so hard to reconcile the Pete I know with the Pete who did that.
There are too many things dropping on me all at once and I can't deal with all of them. First, there really are werewolves, they're not just a myth. Second, this guy that I've been dating, that I've started to really like is one; or was. (Does that even matter? It's basically the same thing.) Third, not only was he a werewolf, but he ordered his men to rape and abuse another guy, a guy who was supposed to be his mate. Fourth, it seems that if werewolves are real, it's likely that other supernatural beings are real too. Fifth, ... no, stop already. Isn't that enough?
"I need time to think," I had muttered to him, before standing up from the bed and then walking out of the room. I didn't look back as I left. I found my way back down to the main floor where the Alpha waiting, there was no one else there.
"Is there somebody who can drive me back home?" I asked. All I wanted was to wake up from this nightmare I found myself trapped in; the pack house was the last place I wanted to be right now.
He nodded, leading me out to one of the cars parked in the front of the pack house; we both climbed in, and he drove me back into town himself. It was a quiet ride; neither of us said anything the whole way there.
After he pulled up in front of my apartment, he stopped me briefly as I was getting out and said: "Pete is trying hard to make up for the things he's done in the past; he's changed a lot since then. I hope you will take that into consideration."
I nodded, not knowing how to respond to that, stepped out of the car and made my way up to my apartment where I fell onto my bed and cried myself to sleep.
***
It's been a week since I last spoke to Pete. I still haven't been able to think clearly about the whole situation. 'Today is going to be another one of those days', I thought to myself as I lay in bed trying to decide if I should even get up. My chest is already tight with emotions threatening to overflow and spill out all over my day. Not only am I still trying to resolve my feelings about the things Pete told me, but today is the anniversary of my mom's death. The day she was abruptly taken from me, because someone thought that getting shitfaced drunk and then getting behind the wheel of their car was okay.
That was the night, everything in my life changed.
Mom had taken on an extra shift that day because the overtime would be enough to cover the rest of the rent for the month. She always took every opportunity to take extra shifts at the hospital. Besides the extra money, she truly loved working with all the patients. She had gotten off work around the same time that the local bars were closing down for the night.
I was awakened by my phone ringing, the number on the display was mom's and I thought she was calling because the car broke down or something - it was always doing that. An unexpected man's voice spoke when I picked up, asking me if I was Emily Brown's family, which sent chills down my spine. After I had replied that I was, he informed me he was with the police, and there had been an accident. He told me that my mother had been hit by a drunk drive and that she had died instantly in the accident; that she hadn't suffered. He wanted me to come to the hospital to identify her body since I was the only relative in her contacts list.
I didn't want to think about anything this morning. I felt my eyes filling up with tears and my vision was getting blurry; I was like this every year on this day. I still miss her so much, I miss talking with her, laughing with her, watching silly romantic comedies with her. I just miss her, and right now I could really use some of her common-sense advice. She always knew exactly what to say to me when I needed advice.
'What advice would she give me about Pete' I asked myself? Would she advise me to drop him like a hot potato because of the things he'd done to his mate, or would she tell me to give him a chance to see if he really had changed like the Alpha said? She'd always looked for the good in people; even people who did bad things.
"Everybody makes mistakes, Avery." I could hear her voice in my head. "If we don't forgive them for their mistakes, how can we expect forgiveness for our own?"
We had had that very conversation once before, back at graduation when I'd ignored Andy's attempts to talk to me and congratulate me for being valedictorian. I had rudely ignored him, turned and walked away. Those had been the exact words she said to me later, when I explained why I had done that.
I think she'd be happy that I had forgiven Andy and we were starting to be friends again. Thinking about her words back then, I guess I can imagine her saying the same thing about Pete now. She was right about forgiveness with regards to Andy; he had only been protecting himself from the bullying he saw me endure.
What Pete had done was so much worse than what Andy had done though. And who am I to forgive him for what he did to someone else? Pete had caused someone to endure unthinkable abuse - and for years. It wasn't my place to offer forgiveness for that; forgiveness had to come from his victims, but was this something I could get past myself? Should I even try? Do I want to?
I let out a long sigh. I like Pete; I really like him a lot. He's kind and generous to me; never giving me any reason to suspect he could be the type of person to have done those things. He'd even saved me from bullies and some dangerous werewolves. That was certainly worth some consideration, wasn't it? I was happy whenever we were together; I haven't been that happy for a long time. Am I just being selfish about that, for just wanting to be happy?
I just don't know what to do, I wish I could talk about it with the one person who had always been there for me. The one who always knew exactly what to say; what I needed to hear.
I finally dragged myself out of bed to go the bathroom; my bladder was telling me that if I didn't empty it soon, I was going to regret it. I peed, then washed my hands as I debated whether or not I needed to shower. I finally decided that today was not a day I should skip the shower, so I turned on the water, and waited for it to heat up before stepping in.
Taking a shower was a good decision; the hot water cascading over my body helped ease the tension I had felt about facing this day. The lavender scent of the soap, as I scrubbed my skin, was a reminder of my mother. It had been her favorite brand of soap and I still bought it because it reminded me of her. I washed my hair, then stood under the hot spray for another 10 minutes before taking a towel off the rack and drying myself off.
I wrapped the towel around my waist as I brushed my teeth, then combed my hair. When I finished in the bathroom, I dropped the towel in the hamper in the corner of the room; it was almost full, so I was going to have to do laundry soon. I took out my best pair of Eddie Bauer khaki slacks, a white tee, and a light blue button-down shirt to wear. I put on my best pair of shoes, a pair of tan St. John's Bay Oliver Oxford shoes. I only ever wore them for special occasions - which meant almost never.
I wanted to look my best for my visit to my mother's grave.
The weather was chilly, so I put on a light jacket, exited the apartment and locked the door behind me. I walked three blocks to a small flower shop where I bought a small bouquet of mom's favorite yellow calendula flowers, with blue delphiniums and white baby's breath in a small metal vase. I know that she would have loved it.
I waited for the bus; the cemetery being on the other side of town, close to the apartment I had shared with mom. The cemetery was small, but very peaceful, with lots of old trees hovering protectively over those who were laid to rest there.
I slowly walked past rows of evenly spaced headstones bearing the names and dates of the people buried beneath. Some of them bore simple little phrases that described the person like "Beloved husband, father, son and brother" or something they had loved to do in their lives: "She loved to dance, now she dances with the angels." I glanced at the dates on that one and saw that the girl described had only been 16 years old when she passed away.
I continued walking down the path, passing more headstones but not slowing to read any more of them until I finally reached the grave I was here to visit. This stone was the only one in the area bearing the last name Brown; we didn't have any relatives, so she was the only Brown nearby. The stone was a simple block of gray granite reading simply: "Emily Brown, Beloved mother and friend. A shining star, forever in our hearts." The dates of her birth and death engraved below, simple bookends bracketing her life.
I stood there for a few minutes, tears silently running down my cheeks as I remembered all of the good times we had shared together. I knelt and placed the vase of flowers next to the headstone in a small slot intended for that purpose, then sat down in front of it, gently running my fingers over the letters engraved in the stone.
"Hi mom," I said, wiping away a stray tear. "It's been a while since the last time I came by. I'm sorry I don't come more often; I miss you so much."
"I'm still working at the diner with James and Beth." I told her, relating all the stories about the funny things that had happened there since the last time I'd visited. I told her about Andy and his fiancé. I thought she'd be happy that we were friends again; especially given what she'd told me at graduation. I spent at least two hours talking about anything that came to my mind, catching her up to date on my life and all the little happenings.
"I've been seeing someone for a while." I finally stated. She had always been interested in the boys I had a crush on back in school. "His name is Pete, and I wish you were here to meet him. I really need to talk to you about him."
I told her all about the things he'd told me. About everything he had done to his mate, but also about how good he had been to me too; I wanted her to know about the good things as well as the bad.
"I wish you could give me your advice, mom. I really need it right now. I don't know if I can do this alone. I don't know what to do."
After I was done talking, I sat there quietly, keeping her company for a while longer. It was comforting to be there, even if for just a little while.
When it was time to leave, I brought the tips of my fingers up to my lips, kissed them lightly and then placed them against the headstone next to my mom's name.
"I love you momma." I whispered, once again feeling tears on my cheeks. "I'll be back to see you again soon."
A/N: So, what do you think? Should Avery accept Pete or move on? How many of you still hate Pete? I'd like to hear your thoughts on Avery and Pete both; there was a lot of hate for Pete in Chains. Does Pete deserve a happy ending, or should he have to suffer? I was torn about that very question myself. I'd love to hear what everyone thinks about it.