Freeks

“It’s not like that.” Gabe reached out, trying to touch my arm. “We’re not bad.”


I looked back at him, into his beautiful golden eyes, and now I understood exactly what I felt when I met him. I’d sensed that I should be afraid of him, and I could never understand why.

And still, even though I knew exactly who and what he was now, I couldn’t make myself be afraid of him. In his eyes, I saw the same guy that I’d been falling for, the guy who made my heart race when he held my hand, the guy who cared for me without judgment and without conditions.

But I couldn’t just pretend like everything was fine. We couldn’t just go back to the way things were, not when I still didn’t know who or what was hunting us.

“So you’re saying that you have no idea who killed my friend Blossom?” I pointed toward the window, to where I’d seen her body before we came into the trailer. “That you didn’t have anything to do with it?”

“No!” Gabe insisted emphatically. “I’m sorry for your loss and everything, but I don’t even know who Blossom is, and I’ve never killed anybody.”

“What about your family? Could they have done that?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. And whatever that was that I fought in the woods, I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t like any other werewolf I’ve ever met. It was … darkness. I could feel it pulling me in, like it was sucking out my soul through my skin.”

He shivered visibly then, and I wanted to comfort him, but I didn’t know how. I wasn’t sure if I should touch him, or throw him out. Everything felt so off it was hard to know what to think.

“Why didn’t you come see me today?” I asked.

“After what happened to Luka last night, I was afraid that my family was somehow involved,” Gabe explained. “My mom and sister both insisted they didn’t have anything to do with it, but I came out tonight to see for sure. I had to make sure that I was safe for you before I came around again.”

“I was afraid you’d changed your mind about me.”

“No, Mara.” He stepped closer to me and put his hand on my face, cradling it. “I’ll never change my mind about you.”

I looked up into his eyes, and I wanted to kiss him so badly then, as badly as I’ve ever wanted to, but the moment felt wrong. Everything felt wrong tonight. I lowered my eyes, so he moved back from me.

“I just need some time to think,” I said. “The past twenty-four hours have been maddening, and I haven’t slept much.”

“No, of course. This has to be so much for you to take in.” He took a step back toward the door. “I’ll leave you alone, then.”

“Thank you.”

He paused before he left. “I’ll see you tomorrow, though?”

I nodded. “I think I would like that.”

He offered me a small smile before leaving. As soon as he was gone, I started crying, and I wasn’t even completely sure why. Blossom’s death, the faded adrenaline, the monster lurking in the words, his status as a werewolf. It was all too much.

I went back to my room and collapsed on my bed. A few minutes later, I heard the front door creak open, and footsteps quietly padded toward me. I could smell the incense on her clothes, so I knew it was my mom before she said anything.

She climbed into bed beside me, wrapping her arms around me and holding me close like she had when I was a little girl.

“I love you, qamari,” she whispered.

“I love you, Mom,” I said between sniffles.

“Is there anything I can help with?”

“I don’t know.” I wiped at my eyes. “Everything is just too much.”

“Don’t worry about it now.” She stroked my hair. “Get some sleep, and we will find a way to sort this all out in the morning. Everything always looks better in the light of day.”





50. the sun

My mom was wrong.

When I woke up, the sunlight stung my eyes. My entire body ached like I’d been through a train wreck, and it took all my effort to pull myself out of bed. Mom was still sleeping, but she’d moved over to her own bed sometime in the night.

I went into the kitchen to brew myself a pot of coffee and to attempt to come up with a plan about what to do next. It wasn’t even seven in the morning yet, and through the window above the sink, I saw Roxie sitting at the picnic table smoking a cigarette.

I poured two cups of coffee—one for me and one for her—and opened the door to the Winnebago and nearly tripped over Gabe. He was curled up on the ground, using a packing blanket for covers, and he sat up with a start when I almost stepped on him.

“Your boyfriend spent the night sleeping outside your door,” Roxie commented dryly. “I haven’t decided if that’s romantic or creepy yet.” She flicked her ashes. “Maybe both.”

“Sorry,” Gabe said as he clambered to his feet. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I thought if the thing decided to come back, I wanted to be here.”

“Gabe!” I gasped. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”

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