Stranger Danger

I have fallen asleep with the blanket over my head, as if that would somehow prevent the wolf from recognizing me, even though he has clearly followed my scent to my home. I am fearful for my parents when I wake up and pull the blanket down off of my face. What if that wolf is from an enemy pack and he comes back here to hurt my parents? What if he brings his friends?

I know I need to tell them what I’ve done for their own good, but I am afraid to. Today is my last day here, and I don’t want to upset them. I would love for us to enjoy the last few hours we have together. I have to believe that I will find a way to get free of Kurts and his contract, but it may take me some time to be able to do that. In my mind, I envision myself a middle aged woman coming back to find my parents, still living here, shriveled with age and stress. I pray it doesn’t take that long.

My parents are in the kitchen. I can smell eggs frying and know they are trying to make the most of a bad situation, frying eggs for breakfast instead of eating off-brand cereal. Thoughts of the lavish breakfasts we used to have, with eggs, bacon, croissants, pastries, and all kinds of fruit and juices come to mind. Our chefs would make anything we asked for--pancakes, waffles, muffins, whatever we liked. They were so nice and friendly. Some of the older women who worked in the kitchen were like grandmothers to me. My parents were always kind and respectful to them as well. It was like we were large, happy family.

And then those savages had come in the night and torn everything away from us.

I couldn’t think about that at the moment. Instead, I brush my hair, put it in a ponytail, and go out to the kitchen. Both of my parents greet me with wide smiles. “Aria!” My father is sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in front of him, the newspaper in his hands, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. As he folds the paper and sets it aside, he asks me, “How are you this morning?”

“Okay,” I say, managing a smile, wondering if now is a good time to tell them the truth, that I was followed last night. I don’t want to see his smile fade, though. “How are you?”

“Good, good,” he says, but his smile is forced. “Did you get enough rest?”

Again, he has given me a perfect opportunity to tell him the truth. I say, “Yeah, I slept fine, thanks.” Maybe I can tell them I saw the wolf without admitting to going outside... . “I thought I saw something by my window, though. Something a little scary.”

“Probably just a bad dream,” my mom says as she flips the eggs. She pauses to kiss my cheek. The kitchen is so small that she doesn’t have to stray too far from the stove to kiss me even though I’m barely in the room.

“I don’t think so,”  I say. “It looked like… a wolf. A big one. A dark one. With green eyes.”

My parents look at one another. I know that look. They aren’t sure what to say to me, and they are debating who will respond to me and how.

My father loses the contest. “I’m sure it was nothing, honey,” he says. “Maybe a stray dog?”

“I have heard some barking late at night,” Mom agrees, plating the eggs.

I decide now is not the time to press the issue. I have warned them, and they seem to think there is a legitimate reason for them to be concerned; they just don’t want me to know about it. “Okay,” I say, though I don’t truly think it is okay. I sit down at the table, knowing Mom will refuse any help I offer, and she brings each of us a plate with two fried eggs on them--and that’s all.

It is enough. It has to be. I feel so awful that they don’t have enough to eat. I wish I could stay here, to get that job I was looking for, to contribute. I almost ask how much the deal is for, assuming Mr. Kurts will at least be giving them something financial to compensate me for leaving, but I don’t ask them, knowing that my proud father will refuse to discuss it with me anyway. I hope it is enough for them to get a better place to live, to have enough food to fill their bellies, to move to a place where they will be safe.

“What would you like to do today?” my father asks me.

“I don’t know,” I reply, taking a bite of eggs. My mother has had to learn to cook in the last few months. She was the daughter of a Beta and the wife of an Alpha and has never had to do anything like this in her life. The eggs are a little dry and a bit too salty, but I say nothing except for how good it tastes and keep eating.

“We could go to the park,” my mom says. “It might be nice to go for a stroll.”

“That sounds nice,” I tell her. The park isn’t dangerous in the daytime, not any more dangerous than any other place in the city, anyway. I don’t particularly want to go stroll around the park with my parents, but if it’s something they want to do on my last day with them, then I will gladly go with them.

We continue to chat about nothing as we finish our breakfasts, which doesn’t take long. I tell them I need to take a shower before I can go, and my mom says she will pack my few belongings while I am in the shower so that I don’t have to fuss with it. I take her up on the offer, laying out the clothes I intend to wear, tears in my eyes I hide from her. I don’t have much because we weren’t able to bring much of anything with us when we fled in the middle of the night, and we’ve hardly acquired anything in the last few months either. I have about three changes of clothes, a few old books, a couple of pairs of shoes, and some earrings my mom found on the sidewalk one day when she was walking back from the grocery store. That’s pretty much it.

And a picture of the three of us that I carried with me in my mouth when I fled my home that fateful night. I wouldn’t leave without that.

I don’t linger in the shower. Not only is the water lukewarm, but I don’t feel as if I actually get clean in here. This entire apartment is so gross, no matter how hard my mom cleans, I’m not sure it’s possible to stay clean even if the shower wasn’t disgusting.

As I am toweling off, I hear a banging on the door that has my breath catching in my throat. I immediately think of the wolf the night before. Is it possible he has returned in his human form to harm my family?

Of course, he wouldn’t knock if that was the case. He’d just burst his way in, but my heart is thumping hard in my chest as I hear my mother open the door and a male voice say, “Where is she? It’s time.”

“Already?” My father’s question echoes in my own mind. I thought it was this afternoon--not this morning. Not already! Not now!

“Mr. Kurts does not like to wait,” comes the response. With tears streaming down my face, I rush to dress, wishing I had that chance to spend one last day in the park with my parents.

I pull my clothes on and put my hair back up, listening to my mother and father begging for more time. “Please,” Mom says, “can’t we just have a few more hours?”

“Mrs. Vargas, the car is waiting for her,” the male says, his voice slightly less angry this time.

I step out of the bathroom and look at him. He is familiar. I have seen his face before. He has a large, crooked nose, dark hair with gray at the temples, and a scar on his jaw.

Then, I remember. He is one of the men I saw walking out of the building the other day, my last day of class. My mouth drops open as I put the pieces of the puzzle together. Those other people--one of them was Mr. Kurts. That had to be the day the negotiation was made!

When his eyes fall on my face, his face softens only slightly. Catching himself, he squares his jaw. “There she is. Get your things, Aria. We are leaving.” 

As if no one ever disagrees with a thing he says, he steps back outside, the door ajar, and I follow his directions.