Cookie: Yo! I present to you chapter 3! Wheeeeeeeeee *twirls*
Taylor Momsen, the bad ass chick on the pic will play Heather, Channing's cousin. You'll meet her in this chapter. :)
YOUTUBE link: Unconditionally by Katy Perry. It's the song I was listening to while writing the rest of this chapter >_<
READ/VOTE/COMMENT/POKE!
Warning! Kinda edited... *laughs* Ok not edited...leaveme alone D;
***
Unfortunately for Channing, the ambulance got there and was ambushed by well meaning EMTs before we could get away.
A few feet away from the ambulance, I watched the EMTs patch up a reluctant Channing since he absolutely refused to go to the hospital. I was so distracted keeping a careful eye on what they were doing to Channing that I was exchanging phone numbers with the mohawked teenager before I even realized it.
Somehow, I ended up being Channing's secretary. Now that I thought about it, I ended up answering most of the police questions earlier as well while Channing had barely spoken. It was as if he was afraid to talk to strangers which was silly considering how big he was. Besides, he had no problem getting all up in my space and he didn't know me from Adam.
I stared at the piece of ripped paper with the kid's number and insurance information in my hand and sighed. I had no idea what's going on anymore. When I had asked for a little excitement a few days ago, I was not expecting...this. I glanced at Channing. I hadn't expected him.
Channing's troubled eyes met mine and I found myself making my way over to him without thought. "What's going on?"
"He doesn't want us to take the stuff we used to clean his wounds," the blonde, female EMT explained. Like her male partner, she wore the standard blue EMT uniform. She was staring up at Channing with a mixture of awe and confusion.
I didn't know why the way she was looking as him annoyed the hell out of me but it did. I stepped in front of Channing to separate them. There. Better. Irrational but better. "He doesn't what now?"
The blonde ripped her gaze from Channing to me. She blinked and looked flustered. "Um...yeah. Your friend keeps insisting that he wants everything we used to clean him up with."
"I can throw it away myself, Shay," Channing said from behind me.
"Look," the African American EMT with a shaved head held up his hands in front of him in a show of peace. "We can throw them away ourselves. It's not sanitary for you to be walking around with stuff like that."
I looked back at Channing and lifted a brow. He frowned and stared right back at me. "I ain't comfortable with them having stuff with my blood on'em, Shay."
I turned back to the EMTs. "Look, just give it to him. It's nothing but cotton balls, gauze and stuff right? No needles? What's the harm in letting him keep them? It's your job to keep him calm and not freak him out. Does he look calm to you?"
Blondie, or Jessica, as her name tag read, shook her head and handed a white plastic bag to me. "Here, but throw them out as soon as you get home."
I smiled at her. "Thanks, sweetheart."
She blushed and looked away. Her partner didn't like that so much so he ushered her away, but not before shooting Channing and I a suspicious glance. My smile slipped and I glared back.
I turned and handed Channing his precious trash. "Here."
The smile he gave me made my heart skip a beat. "Thanks, Shay."
"Yeah...about that." I crossed my arms. "How the hell do you know my name?"
Channing ducked his head shyly. "I uh...mailbox."
"Huh?"
He cleared his throat. "Mailbox. You know them rows of mailboxes outside your apartment? It has names on'em and I sniffed out which box had your scent the strongest."
He sniffed my mailbox. Okaaaaay.
"Your name is Shay Murray." He sounded so proud of that fact.
I nodded because, hell, I didn't know what else to do. I still couldn't get over the fact that he had been creeping outside my apartment sniffing my mailbox. "Yeah. My name is Shay Murray."
He smiled. "I like it. It's pretty."
"Uh huh." I shook my head. "Okay, let's go, big guy. We need to talk."
"At your place right? We'll need somewhere private if'in you want to talk."
"Right." I turned and walked away. Since the cops chased all the gawkers away, it was easy to cross the street without hassle. This was probably a bad idea but I needed him to explain to me what the hell was up with the ears and tail and why I'm the only one who could see them.
"Do you have a phone at your place?" He asked as he followed me. "I need to call my job. I was suppose'ta only have an hour lunch and that ended a long time ago."
"Yeah. I left my cell there so you can use that." I handed him the piece of paper that the teenager gave me. "Will you get in trouble?"
Channing took the paper and quickly shook his head. "My Pa is the manager and once I explain to him that I found my mate, he'll understand."
Mate? "What's a mate?" I dared ask.
Channing smiled brightly. "You."
"Uh huh." I faced forward and walked faster. You know, I was starting to think that maybe Channing wasn't all there in the head. That would explain a lot. Then again, I was the one seeing dog ears on his head.
We were silent the rest of the way back to my studio. For ten minutes I argued internally with myself. This was nuts. It was probably a really bad idea to let him in my studio but then every time I'd glance up at him he'd give me this little hopeful smile and I crumbled.
Anyone who would jump into traffic to save a puppy wasn't all that bad right? And that's why I felt like I owed it to him to hear him out a little. But I didn't have to like it.
"Close the door behind you," I snapped when we entered my studio. Feeling really irritated with myself, I went straight to the kitchen and sat down on one of two wooden chairs. I tried hard to ignore the unmade bed ten feet from us and waved a hand to the other empty chair. "Sit."
Without question, Channing sat and stared at me as if he was waiting for my next instruction. That just irked me even more. "Okay, talk. Who are you and what the hell do you want with me?"
Channing fidgeted in his seat, the wood creaking under his weight. Damn, my chair looked so tiny with him on it. Despite myself, I found my eyes assessing him again, taking in the white bandage wrapped around his forehead and the wound patch on his left cheek. The EMTs had also wrapped bandages around his right arm.
"Are you sure you're okay?" I found myself asking and wondering why I cared so much. "You sure you don't want to get checked out at the hospital?"
Channing shook his head. "No, I'm okay." He smiled. "But thanks. I heal fast, swear."
I nodded to the small white bag he still held. "What are you going to do with that?"
"Burn it."
I lifted a brow. "Burn it?"
Channing searched my face like he was trying to decide how much he should tell me. In the end he said, "My blood is different from others. I'd be in trouble if it gets into the wrong hands. All shifters has to be careful that way."
"Uh huh." Yup. Crazy. "So," I cleared my throat, "are you going to explain to me why you've been stalking me?"
Channing looked down and clutch the white bag tighter between his big hands. "You're my mate."
"Yeah, you've said that but am I suppose to know what the hell that means?"
Channing bit his lower lip nervously. The action distracted me and I found myself staring at his lip. It looked lush and plump between his white, even teeth. Unbidden, my mind conjured up the image of those lips wrapped around my dick and I instantly went hard.
Shit. Why the hell was it that I could get a hard on from watching him bite his lip yet earlier with Trista I couldn't even get it up? This was so fucked up! I squirmed in my seat, suddenly too very aware of him in my small studio. I didn't know what it was about this guy but he made me feel uncomfotable in my own skin.
I didn't like it. At all. "Well?" I snapped impatiently.
Channing sighed. "With you being my mate and all, I guess I can tell you everythin' without getting in trouble."
I crossed my arms and waited.
"My name is Channing Ulrich," he began, "and I'm a hybrid."
"Hybrid?"
He nodded. "My Ma is a golden retriever shifter and my Pa is a werewolf. I was a surprise baby for both of them."
I made sure to keep my face blank. "Uh huh."
"I turned twenty-two this summer and work for my uncle doing construction not too far from here. I like to go hiking, and fishing and I like drawing and bonbons." He grinned. "You know them marshmallow ones with coconut fillin'."
Okay, why did I feel like I was suddenly on a blind date? "Channing!"
He jerked up, startled. "Huh?"
I uncrossed my arms, leaned forward and snapped my fingers. "Focus, man. What's a mate?"
"You are." That goofy smile was back on his face. "You're my mate."
I felt like banging my head against my crappy kitchen table. "Channing."
"Oh, sorry. Sometimes it's hard for me to focus with all them thoughts in my head and-"
"Channing."
"Right." He straightened up in his seat. "I'll try to explain to you as best as I can but I ain't good with words," he warned me. "I still take online classes to speak better so's my cousins don't make fun of my speech anymore.
The way my Ma told me, a mate is the other half of someone. For shifters, it's literally the half of their soul." He thumped his right hand on his chest. "It's so rare cause the world is so big. Not everyone gets to find their mate and only the Gods can give us that gift. We need our other half to anchor us and keep us good and pure..." he trailed off, frowning. "Well some of us. Sometimes a body is just too rotten to the core that nothin' can save'em."
My face must have told him that he better not lose focus again because he gave me a tiny guilty smile and continued.
"Anyhow, the only way a shifter can find his mate is by scent but most importantly by sight. Our mates, no matter who or what they are, can see the animal spirit in us. That's why you can see my dog ears. You can see my soul. Since you're human and don't have an animal I have to rely on scent but that's okay cause you found me first. You're my mate."
There was several minutes of total silence and the longer I continued to stare at him without saying a word, the more Channing's satisfied smile grew dim until he looked awkward and nervous again.
"S-Shay?"
I held up a hand. "Stop. So let me get this straight. You're half werewolf, half golden retriever...shifter?"
He nodded slowly. "Uh huh."
"And the reason you've been following me around is because you think I'm this miracle mate that some mythical Gods gave you?"
Channing looked uneasy. "Um. Yes?"
"And I'm suppose to believe that?"
By now Channing looked ill. "Maybe?"
"Yeah," I nodded, "okay. You're nuts. Get the fuck out."
Channing's jaw dropped. "What?"
I sprang up. "You heard me. Get out. This is bullshit. There is no such things as werewolves and people who can turn into golden retrievers." Man, saying that out loud sounded even more stupid.
"But you can see my animal."
I ignored that little fact. I'll deal with my own instanty later. "What I see is a crazy person who thinks he can turn into an animal. Get out."
Channing stood slowly but didn't make another movement. I couldn't help noticing that he didn't use his larger size to try to intimidate me. In fact, he tried to look as harmless as he could. "Shay, please-"
"Out."
"I can prove it to ya that I ain't crazy."
"Oh yeah?" My brows shot up. "You gonna turn into a dog? Go ahead. Let me see it. Turn into Lassie or something." This should be good.
Channing's face paled and he looked like he was about to cry. "I-I can't."
"Really?' I threw up my hands. "Gee, what a fucking surprise."
"I ain't right," he tried to explain. "I can't shift."
"And why is that?" I asked, playing along a little longer.
"Because I''m...abnormal. Wrong." Channing ducked his head. "They said I shouldn't even exist cause the way I am. Trying to shift hurts so I've never fully shifted."
"Okay."
"It's true!" His head shot up and surprised me with the vehemence in his voice and eyes. "That's why I was so excited to meet ya, Shay. You can see me, you can see that I am a shifter. You can see the animal inside me. They were wrong. All of them. I'm not...I'm not an abomination. I deserve to be alive. My Ma didn't make a mistake in keeping me. I'm not a mistake."
He said the last words so lowly that I barely heard him. At some point in Channing's life, someone told him that he shouldn't exist. As crazy as I thought he was, I felt angry that someone would dare tell him that he was an abomination, that he didn't deserve to live. The different emotions warring within me were so confusing and tiring that I was at lost all over again.
Channing really believed all the things he told me. He really believed that I was his mate and he was part werewolf, part golden retriever shifter. I raked my fingers through my hair and sighed. What to do now?
"I'm sorry," Channing said. He made a face and looked away before my eyes could meet his. "I'll go. I wont stay where I know I ain't welcome. It's just that...I had ta try. When I saw you I thought you were the most beautiful thing my eyes ever had the pleasure of seeing. Us being true mates, I know the mating heat is suppose'ta make us want each other but I also wanted to get to know you. I wanted to court you. Stupid huh?"
Was that what the pie was about earlier? The pie he tried to give me but dropped to save the little girl's puppy?
Without looking at me, Channing walked towards the door. "I'm sorry for bothering you, Shay. For taking so much of your time." He opened the door and paused at the threshold. "I know you don't want me but I'll still protect'ya. It would be my honor."
He closed the door behind him and I listened to his footsteps fade. Well fuck, I thought, dropping my butt back down on the chair. Right now, I felt lower than dirt. And wasn't that just a mind-fuck? Channing should have been the one in the wrong but in the end I feel like I was the one smelling like turd.
I rubbed my face with both hands and sighed. Damn, I needed a drink.
****
Six sexless nights later, I found myself at work after two days off. Two days of doing nothing but hole up in my apartment, ignoring calls from friends and family. I had thought, screw it, I really was in no mood to deal with other peoples bullshit.
As Ariande Grande sang about having one less problem over the booming speakers of Club Tang, I manned the bar with my co-worker, Dan. As usual the club was crowded with the beautiful, the drunk and the stupid. The scent of sweat, liquor and cheap perfume was giving me a headache.
I usually loved the upbeat atmosphere of the club but with over a week of little sleep, I was ready to maim anyone who looked at me the wrong way. And if Dan told me to chill out one more time I'll shove a shot glass down his throat.
"You're chasing away customers," Dan accused as he passed by me to hand some flirty brunette her cocktail.
"Shut up," I fired back. I wiped the bar and turned to the next girl in line. "What can I get you, sweetheart?"
"I'm not your sweetheart."
I paused and focused my attention on the blonde with a serious case of raccoon eyes. I didn't know a damn thing about makeup but this girl had way too much black eye shadow and liner on. That didn't distract anyone from her beauty for long though. She wore tight leather pants that hugged her slim curves matched with an unzipped leather jacket. Generous mounds of cleavage was left on display, pushed up by a black, lacy bra.
"All right," I amended, playing nice."Let me start over. What do you want to drink?"
The blonde placed her arms on the island and leaned closer to me. "What I want is for you to take that stick out your ass and take care of your damn mate."
I reared back. "What?"
She crossed her arms under her breast and glowered at me. "My cousin. Your mate. You need to go to him. NOW."
"Did Channing send you?" I threw the rag I'd been gripping on the island and matched her glare with my own. "Can't he just leave me the hell alone? I thought we were done with this shit."
"Your mated, jackass," she snapped. "There is no such thing as 'done'. You could probably walk away because you're human but it's not the same for my cousin. He's hurting and it's your fault." She uncrossed her arms. "Fix it."
I grinned and my smile wasn't nice. This chick had a lot of nerve. "Honey, I don't know what bull Channing fed you but I have nothing to do with him. I'm not his mate. His anything. And if you believe that than you're as crazy as he is. It must run in the family."
I turned my back on her to stalk away but her next words froze me. "He's dying."
Slowly, I turned to face her again. "He's what?"
"He's dying."
"Dying?" Channing? No way. He had been perfectly fine when he left my studio nearly a week ago. In fact, I knew he was fine because everyday since then I'd find little gifts on my doorstep. The first day had been a pack of bonbons, the second day a small stuffed animal of a puppy, the third day cotton candy, the fourth day a free ticket to any movie, the fifth day a very beautiful sketch of a sunflower and today, this morning, I had opened my door to find a blooming sunflower taped to my door.
In the beginning it had annoyed me but each night I found myself wondering what I'd find on my doorstep in the morning. Channing had to be okay because...shit, because he was still courting me. I felt myself flushing at that because, damn, the word 'courting' was such an old fashion term. But that's what he'd said he wanted to do and he was doing it. Even though I already rejected him.
"The sunflower this morning?" Channing's cousin drew back my attention. "I taped it on your door because Channing wanted to give it to you. He's been so weak cause he hasn't been eating right or sleeping. All he can think of is what gift he should get his mate next because..."
"Because what?" I demanded.
She looked away, suddenly looking much younger. "Because I think he knows he's not going to make it." Her eyes met mine again. "All his life he's wanted a mate. That person he thought that would accept him unconditionally. A person that would make him feel less like a freak and you...you killed that hope. You might as well have stabbed him in the heart and ended it."
I stared at her, at loss for words.
"Those gifts? I think that's his goodbye to you because at the rate he's declining, he wont make it to the end of the month."
I swallowed. "You're serious."
"Do I look like I'm joking? Trust me, I wouldn't joke about something like this. I wouldn't have even come to you if it wasn't serious. The rest of our pack doesn't care if he dies, even his own father but I do. I do care. Do you?"
Fuck, it was suddenly hard to breathe. I didn't even know him but the thought of Channing dead made my knees weak. There was a pressure on my chest that made my lungs ache and my eyes burn. I felt like I was drowning.
"Hey," Dan nudged me. "Is she gonna order a drink or what? We have other customers, you know."
I ignored him and grabbed Channing's cousin's arm. "Where is he? Take me to him."
She studied my face and what she saw must have satisfied her because she nodded. "My name is Heather Jones. And yeah, I'll take you to him."
***
"Acceptance is the key to be...to be truly free. Will you do the same for me? Unconditional...unconditionally! I will love you unconditionally." -Unconditionally by Katy Perry