Finally Her Turn

Chapter 18: Marissa

To my surprise, Aly summoned Tasha and I to come with her to her dorm again, though it’s not for another sleepover. Honestly, I can’t figure out why she called for us other than maybe she just wanted to hang out. I appreciate that she’s trying to include me and be friendlier with me now, but it’s also kind of strange, at least on my end. Caleb has to come too, of course, since either he or Devon is supposed to be with Aly at all times, but he hangs back with Billy and Matt while us girls head into the dorm building together.

It's Friday, the day before the Elders will be gathering at New Horizon to deliver their decision about whether Aly can be our next Alpha. Soon, we’ll all be headed to the airport to return home for the weekend, but Aly wanted to visit her roommate before we go, and she needs to pack up the rest of her stuff that was left in that room. Since Tasha and I already packed our belongings and added our bags and suitcases to the pile that was being loaded into the rental vehicles before we left the hotel, all we need to do is stick with Aly and be sure and get her out of here in time to meet up with the rest of our group.

It’s taking everything in me not to let myself think of what awaits me back home. I’m sure the house is destroyed, and without me there to clean it up, I’m also sure that it gets a bit worse every day. My dad is probably irate that I just suddenly left him, and I’ve been trying not to think about the foul insults he’ll be slinging at me the moment that I step in the door. That’s assuming that he doesn’t decide to greet me with his fists, which is honestly more likely.

Aly has been playfully chatting with her roommate while we’ve been here, and though their relationship is actually kind of cute and I like Ronnie despite never saying more than a couple words to her, I haven’t been paying all that much attention. I’m just the paid help, and it isn’t my job to eavesdrop on them and insert myself where I don’t belong.

But once they start talking about something that happened in the library, and Ronnie mentions a guy who could smell her all throughout the house and says something about knowing what she is to him, my interest is piqued. I think they’re talking about Ronnie having a mate from our pack. I still don’t feel compelled to say anything about it, though, until Aly finally names the guy. Jason.

And I’m assuming she means Jason Levitt, one of the few people whose name I actually remember because he’s kind of unique. I’ve never spoken to him personally, but there’s not a single New Horizon warrior who isn’t familiar with him. His wolf is a berserker rather than a scout, hunter, defender, or any of the other common specializations. New Horizon has never had a berserker before.

Then there’s the fact that he’s become almost as whispered about as I have because of something that happened in the library. People say he met his mate, a human, and his wolf literally went berserk and scared the poor girl away, and that’s why he’s always so glum and serious now. I figured it was a baseless rumor, but from what Aly and Ronnie are saying, it might actually be true.

Aly and Ronnie are hugging it out, I guess because Aly wanted Ronnie to come with us but Ronnie’s uncomfortable about the idea of seeing her mate again, and my curiosity finally gets the best of me.

“Wait, so this is the mysterious human mate of Levitt’s?” I can’t help asking, nor can I keep myself from blurting out the first thought that pops in my head. “Wow, I would not have guessed that. I think they actually win over me and John for odd couple pairings of complete opposites.”

Which is true. Jason is tall, and Ronnie is quite petite. He’s kind of outgoing, or at least he used to be. He’s been a bit different since he got his wolf, and even quieter since the alleged incident in the library. Meanwhile, Ronnie is quiet and meek. She’s even more anxious than most omegas, and I don’t get the sense that she’s particularly athletic. Jason, on the other hand, is one of those people who spends his free time in the gym, at least from what I’ve heard.

But even though they are opposites, I regret saying it pretty much as soon as it’s out. Ronnie is sweet, and I hate to be the one to make her uncomfortable. But to my surprise, she actually gets a little confrontational rather than anxious this time.

“We’re not so opposite. We have a lot of the same interests,” she argues in annoyance.

And admittedly, I don’t know the guy, so it may even be true. I’m sure he has interests beyond just working out, and I’m sure she isn’t always sitting at her desk, even if it is the only thing I’ve ever seen her doing.

“Sorry,” she apologizes almost immediately afterward, which is more in line with how I know her to be.

“It’s okay. I get it,” I tell her, smiling and making my best effort to seem friendly and non-confrontational about it.

Because I do get it. I’ve been all over the place about my own mate, and yes, sometimes downright defensive about little comments Tasha has made here and there. She never means anything bad by them, but having a mate does something to you that I can’t quite explain. Sometimes, I feel a bit insane with the way my moods fluctuate, and I’m all for it one minute but filled with dread the next. I imagine it’s much the same for Ronnie, who is obviously not yet ready to accept her mate either.

“I do have to say, I agree with Ronnie that I can completely see how she and Jason could work as a couple,” Aly chimes in, coming to the defense of her friend.

Not that it’s necessary, but I appreciate what she’s trying to do.

“They do have a lot in common,” she continues explaining. But then she surprises me by adding, “But by that same token, Marissa, I can see how you and John make a whole lot of sense too. And they’re both really good guys. I couldn’t be happier for my friends.”

I haven’t even fully processed the fact that she just called me her friend or how she vouched for John when she reaches out to pull me into an awkward embrace. Not only is it one of those weird group hugs that involves Ronnie too, who seems about as comfortable with it as I am, but I’m still sitting on her bed, while they’re standing.

They’re laughing, and I join in, but it’s too weird. I only let her hug me for a couple seconds before I’m trying to maneuver out of it.

“Alright, that’s about enough of all this cuddly nonsense,” I complain, though I’m careful to keep it sounding light-hearted.

“We need to get going anyway,” Aly says, as if it’s necessary. That’s been my thought through pretty much this whole interaction.

But now that she’s said it, I figure that means she’s finally ready to go. I get up from my seat on her bed and reach for one of her bags, figuring that since I’m here, I might as well help her out.

After she and Ronnie finish with their goodbyes, we head out into the hall to see if we can track down Tasha, who was out there chatting with one of the blonde twins the last that we saw her. She’s still where we left her, but now she’s laughing along with three other girls. I’m kind of wondering if this whole experience will inspire her to finish school so that she can try out college for herself when the time comes. She seems to fit right in here.

*************************  

Everyone seemed to think that it was a fear of flying that had me so on edge through the whole traveling process, but it wasn’t. It’s my fear of going home. I’m not ready, and I really don’t want to be doing this. The closer we get, the worse I feel, and I think only Tasha realizes it.

She reaches for my hand as we’re turning into the long drive that leads into our pack's territory, and surprisingly, it helps some. It gives me something to focus on as my vision starts tunneling and my breathing becomes ragged, and her small bit of comfort helps keep me grounded during what I’m pretty sure is a panic attack.

She stays with me after we start unloading all the people and belongings from the vehicles, even though I can tell that she very badly wants to go over and see her parents who have joined the crowd that gathered out front to greet us. My dad isn’t among them, of course, but I’m glad for that.

We wait together as Devon and Alex are unloading all our suitcases and belongings, but when Alex tosses my suitcase on the ground in front of me, I realize something that starts turning my stomach again. This suitcase and everything in it cost me about a quarter of the savings that I had before we left, and if I take it all home, it may not survive the weekend. Or worse yet, if I end up having to sneak out again to meet the others on Sunday to head back to Maine, I might not get a chance to collect all of this back together and bring it with me, meaning I would have to start at square one again.

“Hey, Tasha. Do you think you’d be able to do me a huge favor and keep my suitcase with you in your dorm room this weekend?” I ask her on a whim. “You don’t even have to do anything with it. Just store it and leave it packed up like this so I’ll already be ready to go back on Sunday.”

“Of course,” she readily agrees, despite the confusion written all over her face. “That’s not really a huge favor, but I’m happy to do it. Are you sure you won’t need any of this?”

“Yep, I’m sure. And thanks. You don’t know how much I appreciate you.”

“I appreciate you too, Marissa, and I’m only a call or a text away if you need me, or just want to chat. Plus, you know where I live.”

She laughs, and I can tell that she’s working really hard to make it seem casual and light-hearted, but there’s a hidden message there. She knows something about going home has me worried, and she’s offering me a way out if I choose to take it. Depending on how things go with my dad, I might just take her up on that, even if it means sleeping on her bedroom floor this weekend.

“Thanks,” I tell her, surprising her when I reach out for a hug. I’m still not good at that, but all the time I’ve been spending with her and Aly has at least given me some practice, and I know it’s the appropriate thing to do right now.

She may not recognize it, but it really is a huge favor she’s doing for me. And offering me an alternative to the wrath of Owen is so big that it’s priceless. A simple hug is the least I can give her in return.

I offer to help her carry our stuff to her room, but she turns me down, pointing out that her family is waiting for her with empty arms, so she’ll have plenty of help. She’ll need it too, considering that we had to pack up everything and bring it all back so that our rooms can be cleaned and freshly restocked while we’re away. For her, that means four suitcases, a duffel bag, and her laptop. Now add mine to her load, and that makes a total of five suitcases plus her duffel bag and laptop.

After we part ways, I start heading off in the direction of home, that sickening, panicky feeling returning again. I could walk slowly and take my sweet time getting there, but that would only put off the inevitable. I might as well get it over with.

I don’t hear the drone of the television from outside as I approach, which means that if I’m lucky, my dad will be passed out somewhere, or more likely at this time of day, he got sick of whatever race or sports game he was watching not going the way he wanted and shut it off to keep himself from smashing it to bits. It’s the only thing I’ve ever given him that he hasn’t destroyed, and I’m glad for it. It wasn’t a cheap present, but I felt like it was a necessary one. The one he had before was way older than me and barely worked.

Just in case he is sleeping, I open the front door as carefully and quietly as I can manage. But what I find on the other side of it leaves me paralyzed with shock for a moment. The living room is empty except for his recliner, and all the other furniture including his television is just gone. The walls are destroyed, gaping holes left all throughout from his fist and probably anything else he could find to throw around. The carpeting is mostly all shredded up as if he took his claws to it, and the divider that used to separate the living room from the kitchen is completely knocked down, the remnants left in an unsightly heap.

I can already see broken glass and ceramics all over the kitchen floor, which has tiles pulled up here and there. I don’t even want to guess at what he did to make that happen. There are empty liquor bottles littered here and there, especially all over the counters, and there’s a mountain of dirty dishes left in the sink. The kitchen table and chairs are also missing, though I don’t see any evidence of them at all. No broken bits of splintered wood from smashing the chairs or anything like that. They’re just gone.

I very carefully creep across the living room to the doorway that leads into the hallway, that pit of dread in my belly growing increasingly larger the farther that I go, especially since I still have no idea where my dad is. He’s not laid out on the hallway floor, which is a common place for him to drunkenly fall over and pass out. The scent of urine that I smelled faintly as soon as I opened the front door gets thicker the closer that I get to the bathroom, though I kind of expected that since his sloppy “accidents” only get cleaned up if I’m here to do it.

I’m only halfway down the hall when the sight ahead finally registers in my mind. My room is empty too. Not destroyed, just empty. I should see my bed from here, but in the spot where it’s supposed to be, all I see is bare carpet. What in the world has he done with all our furniture?

I suspect that he’s in his room sleeping judging by the fact that I haven’t encountered him yet coupled with how strong his scent is just outside the door. I quietly hurry on past, not even pausing to look in there. I don’t want to risk waking him, and I hate lingering in this area of the hallway because the basement door is just across the hall, next to the bathroom. I scurry the rest of the way to my room, not pausing to even take a breath until I get there.

But it doesn’t really look like my room anymore. Virtually all of my stuff is gone, including my clothes and uniforms from the closet. My dresser, bed, and desk are all missing, and the comfy wicker-framed mushroom chair that I bought so I could have my own place to sit and relax isn’t here either. What’s worse is what he did to the walls and carpet. There are holes, of course, but he went a little above and beyond in here.

He left me some choice graffiti, the word “w***e” written in bright red block lettering across my carpet, and some of his other most favorite insults are scribbled across the walls. He even made sure to include “mate-stealer” here and there. I’m sure that’s his absolute favorite, the one he’s proudest of since he was the one who created it.

“Well look who decided to come crawling back,” he drawls, and he sounds so much like he does in my dreams that I almost believe that this is just another of my twisted nightmares.

It’s just strange enough that it really could be only a nightmare, except scents are never this strong in my dreams, and my mind always forgets to include the sound of him breathing unless he’s right behind me.

“What happened to all our stuff?” I can’t help asking, even though I know it’s probably a bad idea.

He starts laughing that signature cackle that haunts me at night, and I can’t help but cringe at the sound of it happening now.

“What happened? What do you think happened, Mary? You just up and left me one day with no warning, and didn’t even leave me any food or money. How did you figure I was supposed to eat, hmm? Or keep the lights on? Let me remind you that I had to give up my job a long time ago so I could stay home and take care of you. But even after all that, you just leave and abandon me to my fate.”

“That’s not what happened, but even so, I still don’t understand what you did to all our stuff.”

“Of course you don’t. You never were very bright,” he complains, and I’m surprised that he hasn’t come at me with his fists flailing yet. He’s just lingering in the doorway, leaning against the wall and sneering at me. “I sold it all, stupid.”

“Even your television?”

“Especially my television, dimwit. It was the only thing we had that was worth much. Your stupid little computer fetched me a half-decent price though.”

“So where am I supposed to sleep now?”

“On the floor,” he cackles again, his expression shifting into a smug smirk that I know all too well. “Unless of course you’d prefer the basement.”

He seems to enjoy watching how just mentioning it makes me reflexively shudder, laughing as if this is the most fun he’s had in a long time.

It probably is. It’s been a long time since he’s shown any sign of the regret and remorse that used to come flooding in when he’d finally sober up and realize all the horrible things he’d done to me. Now he’s just endlessly angry and cruel, probably because there’s no such thing as sober for him anymore. There’s only drunk, sleeping, and hungover. Since he treats his hangovers with more liquor these days, it’s more like drunk, sleeping, and drunk again but this time with a headache.

“No thanks. I think I’m going to go stay with a friend,” I tell him dryly, not even caring about how much I know that’s going to enrage him.

We might as well get this over with. I can already tell from how he’s hovering in the doorway that he doesn’t intend to let me out of here without forcing a confrontation, but he wants to toy with me first. If I can manage to anger him enough, he’ll lose control and get sloppy, and it won’t take me long to knock him out so I can just leave. There’s nothing left for me here.

“I won’t allow it,” he growls, his eyes darkening with anger in the way I was hoping for. “You have a lot of groveling and apologizing to do, and I’m starving. I won’t let you just up and leave me again.”

“Just try and stop me,” I challenge him, bracing myself for the fight ahead, watching his facial features twist as his wolf brings himself to the surface.

He throws back his head and lets out an angry roar, which if he was an actual Alpha wolf would probably intimidate me, but since he’s not, it just gives me an opportunity to lunge for him and knock him off-balance.

He stumbles backward and hits the floor with a forceful thud, but manages to pull off a backward somersault and end up on his feet with enough space to come charging right back at me. He may be a bit slower and clumsier when he’s this intoxicated, but he also doesn’t seem to feel pain as much, which is almost more dangerous.

“You stupid b***h,” he rages at me.

He lunges and tackles me, throwing the force of the momentum that he managed to build with his running start behind it, and now it’s me hitting the floor with a thud and a sickening c***k. At first, I assume that the sound is from one of my bones breaking, but I eventually realize with horror what it actually was.

My phone. I had it in my back pocket, and never thought to take it out before starting this fight. It’s strange, but that enrages me far more than it ever would have before. That’s not only going to cost me money that I don’t have to spare, but it was the only means I had of talking to John. Now Audra's the one pushing to be let out with intent to punish.

It’s silly, but that broken phone might turn out to be the reason why I win this round.