Marks and Scars

Wolves

My phone was ringing… well, vibrating.

That’s what woke me up, not the pounding in my head.

I swore quietly. 

It was Sunday. 

I had work that evening.

And a massive hangover. 

What the hell was in that drink Tyler made me? I wondered. Gooooooooddddddd my head is throbbing.

I rolled onto my side, pulling my comforter up over my head, squeezing my eyes shut tight as I listened the vibrations from my phone cease. When they stopped, I let out a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding. 

Then the vibrations started again.

I let out a low grumble and started violently sweeping my arm around the mattress. I searched beneath the comforter, and underneath my pillow, until my fingers finally brushed the back of my phone. I wrapped my hand around it and pulled it under the covers, peeking between my eyelids at the screen as I held it in front of my face. My eyes shot open at the sight of the screen. There was a giant, diagonal crack that started in the bottom corner, cutting straight to the opposite corner. I cursed again, louder this time before focusing on the phone call.

A frown spread across my face when I saw that it was Cathleen. Why was she calling me... from her room? Unless she’d been awake and gone out already, but it was highly unlikely for her to wake up before noon on a weekend, and it was only just after nine. Letting out a sigh, I mashed the accept icon and held the phone up to my ear.

“Hey,” I muttered into the speaker sleepily.

On the other end, Cathleen sounded right the opposite of sleepy.

“Oh my god! What the hell is wrong with you?” she shrieked.

“What are you talking about?” my voice was thick and a little slurred. Maybe I was still drunk.

“What do you mean what are you talking about?!” she demanded, still shrieking. “You never came home last night! I’ve been worried sick! Where are you?!”

I groaned loudly. “Cathleen, what the hell are you talking about?” I asked again.

I opened my eyes, blinking slowly to adjust to the light that was invading the gray comforter. My eyes narrowed. 

Why does my comforter look more white than gray?

I rolled onto my back, eyes wide, and quickly had to suppress a yelp. The back of my head was tender, and the mattress against my hair felt more like a cactus. 

“Last night,” she continued, “After you went to that party with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome? You never texted me- you didn’t call- I never heard from you. Are you okay? What happened?”

I sat up slowly, pulling the phone away from my ear, and carefully pulled the white comforter off of my head. 

This is not my room… 

I wasn’t home, like I’d thought. The room I was in was completely strange to me. Natural light filtered in from large windows set into a pair of french doors. The floors were a dark hardwood, rather than my plush carpet, and the room was nearly bare, only a few pieces of furniture in sight. My heart began beating slow and hard.

What had happened the night before?

I racked my brain, rubbing my eyes, and grimaced, yet again having to suppress a yelp. I looked down at my hand and saw a trace amount of fresh blood. I tenderly felt my nose and my cheek, which were stinging. My cheek was definitely scraped up, my nose tender. 

“Cathleen?” I asked, putting the phone back to my ear. “I don’t remember what happened last night - I think I drank too much. I don’t know where I am, I-”

I stopped, my blood suddenly running cold as the memories flooded back.

Jeremy. 

The kiss. 

Jeremy is hot, but a wacko. 

Vanessa? Someone named Vanessa... attacking me.

Red hair.

The girl at the bar?

Oh f**k.

When I heard a click, my head swung straight ahead. The door set into the wall opposite of the bed opened slowly, and Jeremy walked in. He froze when he saw me sitting up. “You’re awake,” he surmised.

“Where am I?” I demanded immediately. 

He eyed me carefully, and saw the phone in my hand. Slowly, he put two and two together. “Are you on the phone with someone?” he asked, rather than answer my question.

“Does it matter?” I asked, slowly lowering my phone to my lap. 

When he took another step into the room, I scrambled out of the bed, standing to face him. I looked down, grateful to see that I was still in my clothes from last night. Nothing... perverted... had happened at least. 

Jeremy’s eyes softened a little, and he closed the door gently behind him, not taking any further steps. 

“You’re at my house,” he finally conceded. 

“Why?” I asked, irritated. 

“After Vanessa-” Jeremy let out a sigh. “You blacked out. I brought you here, I didn’t know where else to take you.”

Vanessa- the girl from B&E’s who had been lingering near Jeremy when I first met him. He was probably protecting her- they were together, somehow. 

“How about taking me to a hospital?” I demanded, remembering the attack very clearly. I could hear Cathleen’s frantic voice coming from my cell phone, which was in my hand, hanging down by my side.

Jeremy looked down at the phone, then met my gaze again. “I had my doctor take a look at you,” he answered gently. “He said you’ll have a mild concussion. That your face is scraped up, your nose is bruised..” his eye twitched a bit as he spoke, “But nothing is broken. As long as you take it easy for a week or so, you should be okay.” 

I edged closer to the wall to the right of the bed where there was a set of french doors leading to a balcony. I looked through the glass, and my jaw dropped. We were definitely on the second story of the house. But that wasn’t what caught me off guard. Down below the small balcony, on the ground, was nothing but sand and waves for what looked like miles. We were on the beach. I looked at Jeremy.

“Where are we?” I demanded quietly.

“We’re at my house,” he repeated. “On Tybee.”

Tybee Island? It was a good thirty minute drive from Savannah. The Uber ride home was going to cost at least $40- maybe more depending on how many people were trying to get a ride at that point in time. I pulled the phone back up to my ear. “Cathleen, I’m leaving Tybee now. I’ll be home soon.” 

I hung up before she could ask anymore questions.

In our friendship, I was always the responsible one. And here, I’d woken up in a strange bed, miles from home. Jeremy stepped towards me again.

“Kara, you can’t leave,” he protested quietly.

“And why not?” I asked him. “Because you’ve been searching for me?” I repeated his words from last night, sarcasm dripping from my voice.

“Kara,” he said my name, all kinds of implications in his tone.

“Don’t just say my name like that’s going to do something, like you know  me,” I snapped at him. My head was pounding and my frustration was slowly becoming anger.

“But I have been searching for you,” he insisted.

“You don’t know me,” I reminded him. “Up until last night, you didn’t even know my name. You didn’t know I existed.”

“I might not have known your name,” he relented, “But I knew you existed.”

“How?” I was nearly yelling.

He looked at me, puzzled. “I thought… you felt it. Don’t you feel it too? Unless...”

I stared at him blankly.

His face darkened. “Unless you didn’t feel it too… were you just drunk last night? Was that the only reason you went with me, that you…”

Memories of our kiss flashed through my mind and my cheeks reddened. “I was just drunk,” I affirmed. Liar I thought to myself.There’s something else there. You feel it too.

Jeremy blinked, and when his eyes opened, they weren't so gentle. I flinched back as the ice in his eyes returned. Jeremy crossed the room- only I didn’t even see him take a step. He was just suddenly standing in front of me, our toes nearly touching. Before I could wonder about that, he grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him. His grasp was firm, but careful to avoid pressing on any scrapes. I held my breath, trying to fight against the thrill rising inside of me at his touch against my skin. Fighting it sober was much more effective. I managed to keep my face neutral. 

He searched my eyes, with his. “Don’t lie to me,” he murmured, his tone flat as he peered into my eyes. I felt like he was searching for my soul, my secrets. I felt completely vulnerable under his stare. Naked. Intimate. 

My breathing hitched in the back of my throat and I gasped quietly, unable to look away from him. 

And suddenly, it was too much. The desire surged inside of me, drowning what sense I had left. I reached up, grabbing him by the neck and let out a cry as I pulled his head down. He didn’t resist, his mouth met mine quickly and I relished in the feeling of his supple lips moving with mine. It was short lived though. I had just moved my arms around his neck- intent on never letting go- when he grabbed my shoulders, pushing me back against the glass and breaking our kiss.

I bit the inside of my lower lip fiercely as I looked up at him, my cheeks burning with either passion or shame- I wasn’t sure which.

His smirk was smug. “Are you still drunk?” he asked.

“I think so,” I replied stiffly.

His thumb brushed against my lips thoughtfully and I turned my cheek into his palm. The warmth of his skin was like a soothing balm to the stinging on my cheeks. 

“You do feel it,” Jeremy confirmed, seeing my reaction. 

“What is it?” I asked quietly. 

But he had started frowning again.

Internally, I was frowning too. This didn’t make any sense. I was acting like...like…

Like I have brain damage, I thought. A concussion… duh. I furrowed my brows, thinking about it.

“You’re from Colorado,” Jeremy repeated, remembering our conversation from the night before. 

“And?” I blinked, focusing on him again.

Jeremy looked down at me somberly. “Is your family in Colorado or something?” he asked.

I broke eye contact, darting my eyes to the side, still resting my cheek against his palm. 

“Are they human?” he asked.

My eyes widened as I looked back at him. “What kind of question is that?” I asked. 

Vanessa had said something about me ‘just being human’ too. What did that mean, that they weren’t?

Jeremy didn’t answer at first. But then, he shifted his head, so that he was looking intently out the window behind me. He placed his hands on my shoulders, gently turning me around. I let him, confused. When I looked out, I didn’t see anything at first- just the foamy green waves crashing steadily against the sand. 

Come to think of it… I couldn’t see any tourists - or any beach-goers for that matter - which was highly unusual for a weekend on Tybee Island. I wondered if Jeremy’s house sat on a private beach. It had to -  the beach was so undisturbed  - all I could see was nature and wildlife. There were small crabs scuttling back and forth on the very edge of the sand. Seabirds. Large horse-shoe crabs and washed up jellyfish.

And dogs? No… not dogs.

Wolves.

My eyebrows furrowed. I didn’t think that Tybee had much of a wolf population. But the more I stared at the wolves, the more I realized something wasn’t quite right. There were maybe a dozen or so that I could see. About half of them stood still in one spot, spread out in what could have been a pattern. They were warily watching the area as though on guard against something. Of the other half, four were lazing around, resting in the sand. Two were running in large circles, in and out of the water, nipping at each other playfully. 

Then, one of the ones lazing on the sand stood up, shaking it’s coat. Sand went flying in the air and then-

The wolf was gone.

In the wolf’s place was a man, his back to us, pulling on a pair of shorts and a shirt. He ran his hand through his short dark hair, shaking out the last of the sand, and walked toward a neighboring house, stepping over one of the wolves still asleep on the beach.  

I could feel time slow down as it dawned on me. 

The man… the man was the wolf. 

I turned my head and looked at Jeremy over my shoulder. He was still staring out the window. I looked back in time to see another two wolves shift, one into another man and the other a woman. They each hurriedly pulled their clothes with practiced speed, skillfully covering their nudity. 

I subconsciously took a step back. Maybe I am still drunk…

When I stepped back, I was expecting to bump into Jeremy. 

But I didn’t.

Dazed, I turned around only to stumble backward.

Just a few feet away from where Jeremy had just been standing behind me was another wolf. This one was large - maybe the others were large as well, and I couldn’t tell because of the distance. But the wolf in front of me stood nearly as tall as I did at 5’5”. His fur was black as night, and two dark, icy gray eyes stared at me imploringly. 

Vanessa’s words from the night before came back to haunt me…

“You’re just a human, and you have the gall to show disrespect to the Alpha of the Blue Moon Pack?”

Werewolves… I finally realized. No… it isn’t possible. I’m going crazy. I’m losing my mind. I… I have severe brain damage. 

I just stared up at the black wolf as I backed up against the french doors. It stepped forward, not stopping until it’s nose was an inch away from my chin. He tilted his head up and stuck out his tongue, gently lapping at my cheek. 

The sparks danced across my face.

Jeremy. 

I sunk down to a seated position, staring at the ground. The room seemed to be spinning around me, everything out of focus. Suddenly, Jeremy - human looking Jeremy - was in front of me again. He had his pants on, but still had his shirt in his hand. He sat down on the ground right in front of me, taking my head in both of his hands and guided me forward, so that I was leaning against his chest.

I closed my eyes, trying to catch my breath. I hadn’t realized it - my chest was contracting violently as I tried to breathe. I felt like I was suffocating again. 

Jeremy pulled me all the way into his lap, cradling me against his warm body. “Shhh…” he murmured gently, his hand firm against my back. “Slow down, you’re hyperventilating. You’ll make yourself blackout again. Just listen.” He had one hand on my back, the other firmly and gently against my head as he pressed my ear to his chest. 

I focused on the sound of his heart, and the panic attack finally began to subside.

“That’s it,” Jeremy sighed, moving his arms so that he held me in a hug. 

I relaxed in his arms, suddenly incredibly tired.

“I don’t understand how it’s possible,” I finally whispered. 

“I don’t either,” Jeremy responded. 

I was getting the feeling that we were talking about two completely different things.