A/N: Sorry that has taken me so long to update. I hope that the next update is longer and more exciting than this one (which is more of just a filler/development section). Happy reading!
Chapter 34:
“Let me look at your jaw.” Kyrie asked me, taking a step toward me and reaching out with his hands as soon as I came back into the guest bedroom from practically putting Chey into the bathtub. I raised an eyebrow at him in confusion but complied when I analyzed the worried and very doctor like expression on his face. He gently placed his hand on the hinge joint between my skull and mandible and slowly pushed my jaw open. After about half a second a sudden pain erupted in my jaw and I jerked away from him violently.
“Oww.” I complained as I held my still throbbing jaw, tears threatening to fill my eyes. It was amazing how bad that hurt. “What they hell did you do?” I asked him in a slightly bitter tone. He held his hands up cautiously and gave me an apologetic look.
“Try to open your mouth all the way.” he suggested, slightly sidestepping my irritation at what he had done to my poor jaw bone. Nevertheless I tried to do what he asked of me and instantly realized what he had been trying to do. I couldn’t open my mouth wider than what would allow me to talk. I hadn’t even noticed it until he said something. I tried to open my mouth wider and my jaw seemed to make a grinding noise and I had to snap it shut from the pain that contorted my face.
“Jesus Christ Superstar.” I moaned, holding onto my jaw like it was about to fall off of my face. “What the hell?”
“You have ripped part of your masseter muscle. I figured you would have popped your whole jaw out of place to put enough force into biting him to draw blood.” Kyrie informed me as he crouched to reach into his bag of doctor goodies to pull out a bottle of Ibuprofen. “I would suggest you take some of these and only eat soft food until you can open your mouth well again.”
I took the bottle from him, still holding my poor mandible like a small child with a toothache.
“Speaking about food, LET’S BAKE A CAKE?” Red suddenly announced, throwing her hands up in the air like an excited five year old.
What the hell was wrong with this girl? I mean, I know acting crazy is how she copes with life but her sudden mood changes and randomness were starting to make me think she wasn’t just acting like a crazy person anymore.
While I just stared at her with surprise and worry written across my face, Kyrie just sighed and shrugged his shoulders.
“Let me go see if Sean has any cake mix.” Kyrie replied as he moved to zip up his bag. My mouth practically fell open as he walked out of the room to go to the kitchen with Red hot on his heels. I stood there for a few moments before I followed them only one thought being able to make it through the spinning gears of my mind from seeing Kyrie’s apparent compliance to Red’s insanity.
She had finally broken him.
****
“Carlos told me that he wanted us to make two large sheet cakes, for what I have no idea.” Kyrie informed me as he grabbed the boxed cake mix out of the cabinet. Apparently my expression had been so dumfounded as I followed the odd pair into the kitchen that Kyrie felt the need to explain himself. “Sasha said she would bring the icing and escort Carlos over around 3:00.”
Ok. That made a lot more sense than Kyrie actually doing anything that Red told him to do.
But what the hell was the cake for?
If it were anyone other than Carlos who told us to make it I would have assumed that it would just be for us to pig out on…but Carlos struck me as someone that never did something for the obvious reason.
“Ok. I guess we are going to have another practice session?” I asked, moving to get the other ingredients out of the fridge that he would need on instinct.
“I think he has something a little less fun and violent planned.” Red commented as she perched herself on the kitchen island. Kyrie frowned at her disapprovingly.
“Only you would say something violent was fun Red.” He sighed as he moved to dig a mixing bowl out from the bottom cabinet.
“That’s because everyone else is lame.” Red justified easily, crossing her legs so that she was sitting Indian style in the middle of the granite countertop.
“Are you just going to sit there or are you going to help?” Kyrie asked, raising an eyebrow at her. Her eyes widened and she looked at him in mock hurt.
“I am helping. Everyone knows that it is my job to lick the bowl.” She justified, pouting her bottom lip a little. Kyrie and I stared at her for a moment and then sighed practically in unison.
“Well at least if it is poisoned she’ll kick the bucket before we eat it.” I pointed out to Kyrie. He beamed at me in amusement.
“True.”
Red pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest in distastefully.
“You know you love me too much to poison me. I mean, think how boring your life would be without me.” Red defended with a duh tone in her voice. Kyrie let out a sigh of longing and turned back to the counter to empty the contents of the box into the bowl.
“Oh and Red, counters are for glasses not for people’s asses. Sit in a chair.” Kyrie commanded as he measured out a half cup of vegetable oil. Red’s lips twisted into a sly grin but she complied with his request and moved to sit in one of the stools. Much to my suprise I might add.
“So what was with Mr. Fuzzy Britches’ gloom and doom attitude back there?” Red finally piped back up as Kyrie handed me the batter bowl to stir while he looked for a baking pan. I shook my head and sighed, focusing on stirring the batter better. I needed this. I needed to stir the batter and throw all my stress into the mix.
I needed to tell someone about what had happened and let them try to help me make sense of it.
And for someone that had never really shared much of her life to anyone for the past four years of my life I found it surprising how easily I was able to tell the two people standing in the monster’s kitchen with me.
To tell my friends.
Even though the circumstances of meeting them were downright shitty, I was still damn proud to be able to think of these people as my friends. And I was so freaking grateful to have them.
If it wasn’t for them…I would be dead five times over.
And while that thought petrified me, it still gave me the courage to tell them the horrific events of the past several hours. I took a deep breath.
“The other night he snapped and tried to... again, spouting some nonsense about how I would love him once he infected me with monster spawn. “ I explained, shivering a little at the thought. “I tried to get him to stop but he was the Beast completely and wouldn’t listen. I bit him because it was the last thing I could think to do. It must have surprised him because I was able to get away from him.”
“And he’s been acting strangely ever since?” Kyrie asked his brow furrowing as he greased the pans.
“I told him that I hated him.” I mumbled the expression on the Monster’s face as I said those words flashing in my memory as I admitted what I had said to him. Part of me was still reveling in the pain I had caused him…the rest of me was wondering if inflicting it was the best idea.
“I tell Alfred I hate him all the time and it hasn’t done a damn thing.” Red countered. “But then again he has always treated me like I shoved a small furry creature up his ass so…”
“Red’s right. It has to be something more than that.” Kyrie observed as he leaned back against the countertop “ I’ve never seen a werewolf withdraw like that from their mate. I mean clearly he is still very protective and possessive but he had to almost force himself to look at you back there. And he talked as if you were not there. “
I took a deep breath and handed the thoroughly stirred batter bowl over to Kyrie to distribute the batter into the pans.
“I don’t understand it. It is like something snapped inside him and it made him not feel the same connection to me. I mean I’m thankful that he isn’t interested in me but I am frightened by the turn of events. What if he goes back to what he was? What if it is worse than last time?” I pondered, forcibly keeping my panic to a minimum by taking practiced and controlled breaths. It was almost like I was trying to trick myself into not giving a shit about how scared shitless I was.
“What I want to know is how the hell he knew to just bust all up in here to try to rescue you. “ Red stated putting her socking feet up on the counter in front of her while her body remained in the chair.
“What do you mean?” I asked looking at her in confusion. She shrugged nonchalantly but had a pensive look in her eyes that told me that she was thinking through how she was going to broach the subject. I came to the conclusion that if Red had to think about how she was going to tell you something, that something would have to be pretty damn awful.
“I mean…from the way the dog was breathing and how the front door is practically torn into bits from his entry I’m assuming he knew that you were in danger before he came into the apartment. And he must have known from a far distance because I’ve never seen one of those Monsters breathe that hard unless they have run several miles.”
It was suspicious.
It was like he knew. But how could he have known?
He couldn’t have.
I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest.
“I don’t know. He has been going on runs a lot and he had come into the apartment in his wolf form before.” I tried to explain. It was plausible. But the monster hadn’t come in as a beast since the day that he scared me while I was making brownies. I had previously thought that he purposely didn’t come in as a beast anymore because I had freaked out so royally that last time and he was trying to make me more comfortable. Using this line of thinking it was easy to see how his change in behavior could have easily made him stop the possibly considerate act.
For some reason it didn’t sit well with me. It was like I was missing something right in front of my face.
“Well I guess that is true.” Red sighed uncrossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. “The explanation is not nearly as exciting though.” She argued with a disappointed look on her face. I heaved another sigh, something that I had begun to do quite frequently in her presence, and stared her down.
“Red…someday I’m going to hit you in the face. I’m just putting it out there so you know the consequences.” I muttered, feeling a headache beginning to form. Red just turned her face toward me with an eerie baby doll kind of grin.
“I look forward to it Pumpkin are you a righty or a lefty?” She asked.
I shook my head at her and shoved her feet back down from the countertop. Her only reaction was to pout pitifully and cross her arms back over her chest.
“You’re no fun.” She mumbled dejectedly. “Almost as bad as Mommy Jeans over there.” She pointed to Kyrie who was just now putting the cakes into the oven. He raised a quizzical brow at her and then rolled her eyes; apparently beaten by her name calling enough just to let it go almost immediately once the words left her mouth. He picked up the batter bowl and handed it to the self-designated taste tester without comment. Red took one lick of the spoon and sighed heavily.
“Damn that Betty Crocker. Why the hell couldn’t she have been my mother?” Red groaned as she continued to practically lick the bowl clean. She looked so much like a little kid doing that, face shoved in the bowl in total abandon and small daps of cake mix on her freckled nose and forehead because of the action.
“You do know that Betty Crocker was not a real person and actually is named in honor of a man right?” Kyrie asked as Red continued to helplessly scrape at the bottom on the batter bowl.
“Well I put up with you mommy pants so what’s the difference?” She asked a patronizing grin spread across her face. It looked rather ridculous mixed in the obvious batter splatter on her face but she didn't seem to notice or care. Kyrie looked at me then in exasperation but it soon melted into mischievousness.
“Juniper I have a favor to ask of you.” He informed me, turning his back to the annoying eccentric bowl licker that sat across the island from him.
“Anything for you Kyrie.” I told him honestly, fighting a grin because I sort of knew where this was going. Just as we always seemed to be, Kyrie and I were on the same wavelength once again.
“Promise me you won’t just hit her in the face once.” He asked a smile in his eyes but a frown on his lips.
I laughed, I promised him, we both laughed at Red’s outrage and for a brief moment I could actually pretend that my life wasn’t a screwed up shit bag from hell.