My Shifting Mate

Chapter 8

Jaiden Pov

    Tonight, it had to be tonight. Earlier today I agreed to marry some silly girl, a bear shifter from another pack a few hours away. Father ran out of girls in this pack to parade in front of me so he started to go to other packs, hoping to align us together at the same time. This girl, her name was Sidney, or Sadie, something like that. It wasn’t important. I agreed to marry her and threw my father off. It disgusted me to have his big mountain-sized arms thrown around me, images of a woman that looked like me cowering and crying under his violent hands. I couldn’t help but wonder if he saw her when he looked at me. If that was the reason he was nice to me sometimes, not because he loved or wanted me, but because I looked like her. It was strange, seeing him now. The memories of when he was happy, were all distorted now that I knew he was a rapist and a murderer. Everything that I knew to be happy was shadowed with hatred, until I could barely look at my parents for the rest of the night. Father kissed mother goodnight and left, saying he was escorting the girl back to her pack personally so he could discuss our future with her father. I tried to hide my excitement over this, knowing he was a big obstacle in keeping me locked away. He still noticed my hidden smile but he thought it was because of my excitement for finally picking a girl to marry and slapped me on the back, telling me he was proud of me. Proud of me? Those words didn’t sit right with me, not coming from him. Mother, could I even call her mother now? She hated me, she always has. I couldn’t help but look at her and wonder why. Why did he try so hard to have my real mother? Okay, maybe in his own f****d up way he loved her. Like a stalker, but he loved her and wanted her to love him back. Maybe in his own way, he thought she’d eventually love him back and we’d be a big happy family. But she didn’t, she never folded to him. I didn’t blame her one bit for it, even if knowing if she did she’d still be alive and here today. I was proud of her for sticking it out until the end, never succumbing to him. He then got an heir, but why did he wait until I was born to kill her? Why didn’t he give up on her and kill her, marry another for an heir? It seemed like he married his wife at the same time I was born, to pretend I was her son? And why didn’t he ever have children with her? None of it made sense to me, and as much as I wanted to sit down and ask him, I was worried. 

    Would he tell me the truth? I know my father has never been one to open up to me, tell me anything. He has always been strict, secretive, and quiet. Now that I know on top of it he’s a rapist, a stalker, and a killer? No, I highly doubt he’ll tell me the truth. Honestly, he’ll probably beat me up for questioning him, and he’ll probably destroy the journal. The journal, no. I shook my head, my black hair falling into my gray-brown eyes, no. I won’t say a word. Mother said goodnight to me, walking away without another word, annoyance clear in her green eyes. I stood there, watching her walk away from me one way, and watching father disappearing the other way, and I knew without a doubt that tonight was the night. I couldn’t take this anymore. This life, this pretending, I couldn’t do it. Not now that I know the truth. I walked as fast as I could to my room, so mother wouldn’t notice my haste. I closed my door, locking it as I looked around. I knew this was the night. Father had guards guarding the doors, guarding the pack, but if I was careful enough...maybe I can do it. No matter what, I was going to try since I couldn’t do this anymore. I grabbed a backpack, throwing all my old school stuff to the side. It was silly, even though I was homeschooled and the professors always came to me; father still bought me a backpack, heavy-duty, to hold the school supplies. I graduated high school earlier this year, even though I’m only seventeen, I had my diploma mailed to me and everything. I threw the books and papers on the bed, tucking a folder of my important papers into the bottom of the backpack, and then proceeded to roll up clothes, stuffing as much inside as I could. I didn’t have money, what was the point of giving an allowance to a boy trapped in a house? I obviously couldn’t leave to get a job, either. If I complained that I wanted something or I was bored or lonely, my father always ordered it for me and had it sent to the house so I was entertained. Though I knew where his safe was, and I’ve seen him put in his combination when he thought I wasn’t looking, and I knew there were bundles of money inside. Father didn’t trust banks, he didn’t trust much of anything really, and in this case, it would help me. 

    I left some room at the top of my backpack and slipped into his study, again happy that he was gone. If he was normal and didn’t feel the need to have me locked in the house then I was sure more people would live in here, with all the empty rooms, but now it was only mother and I since he was gone, and maybe the cook if she was still cleaning up in the kitchen. He was very selective with the people allowed in the house, so there only was a small handful allowed. Mother liked to go to bed early and she was a heavy sleeper so I wasn’t very worried, but I still tried my best to be quiet. I opened the safe and grabbed a few bundles of money, about five thousand or so, and hid them under my shirt as I fast-walked back to my room. I shoved it all into the bag and changed my clothes. I ended up putting on ripped black jeans and a black shirt, grabbing a large black hoodie with the silver Black Veil Brides logo on it. I pulled the hood over my head and stared at myself in the mirror. My gray-brown eyes shined back at me and I frowned, rubbing my bangs out of my eyes. I could see my piercings in my ears, two silver hoops in each ear, from inside my hood as I chewed on my lip ring sitting on the bottom left side of my mouth. Gently I poked the mole under my right eye, remembering the journal. How could I forget the journal? 

    I pulled it out from under the Mattress and I slipped it into the front of the backpack, knowing if I did manage to find the Snow Moon Pack I’d probably have to show it as evidence. That was at least seventeen years ago when she wrote this. I don’t know how long she was held captive since she was kidnapped, but judging from the journal her best friend Luna Liane must be in charge of the pack, or maybe her child by now. I remembered my mother wrote in there that this pack was close to the Snow Moon Pack but I doubted it was very close, she said it was hours away so it might take a while for me to find them if I was lucky enough to be going in the right direction. I turned to look at the pile of my broken cell phone on my desk and shrugged, turning away from it. Having a cellphone for music would have been nice since it seems I’ll be walking for a while, but maybe I’ll find a town and I'll be able to buy one. Instead, I stared at my backpack, snapping it shut and putting it on my back. It was heavy but I was stronger than I looked. I slid my black and white converses on, tied them up, and looked around my room. Quickly I remembered my prized possession and I walked to the music room down the hall, sliding my Gibson SJ-200 Acoustic guitar into its case and slid the strap over my shoulder, adjusting it to rest next to my backpack. I loved this guitar more than anything, it was my last birthday present from my father and I had been begging him for it for over a year. 

    The suspense was killing me, even though I was all alone in this big house, just knowing what I was about to do was making me on edge. I looked out the window of the music room, watching as the guards stood outside the window, talking to each other. Of course, he’d have guards at the windows as well. I wondered, are they everywhere though? Or only patrolling the windows of the rooms I frequent? I opened random rooms, running back to his study, the kitchen, everywhere I went there were guards posted outside. My heart was beating so fast I could barely breathe but I kept going, determined to find a way out. I found the ladder to the attic and went up there, wiping the cobwebs out of my way as I looked out the small circular window. It was just big enough for me to climb through, and I was glad to see a small little balcony under it. Slowly I cracked the window open and placed my bags on the balcony below, sliding my body through and looking over the edge. There was a sloped roof that I could climb down, but from there it was a gutter all around the house. I could see from up here where all the guards were and I was saddened to see them everywhere, in front of every window and door. But, from up here, I could see there was a small gap where the guards weren’t standing, and a bush placed underneath vines that I could climb down if I was quick. It did seem like they moved around sometimes, their legs growing tired of just standing there, and once or twice they moved in a way that at least two of them could see the vine, and would see me climbing down it if I wasn’t quick. 

    Still, I was determined. I needed to get out of this pack, this disgusting prison cell of a house, away from this woman who hated me and this man who was a monster. I didn’t belong here, and I needed to tell Sylvia’s grandmother her story. My great-grandmother, Ginger. Distantly I wondered if she was even still alive, she’d have to be in her sixties now, but there were also the names Liane and Alice mentioned in the journal as well and I could always go to them also. It made me feel sad to think that Ginger might be dead since she was my last remaining family member, but I tried to push those thoughts away as I strapped the backpack and the guitar case back to my body, sliding slowly down the tiles as quietly as I could. I thought about ripping one up and throwing it on the opposite side of the house, but that would alert them that there was someone somewhere. Bears had a great sense of smell as well, and if they even suspected someone was sneaking in or out I’d be found fairly fast. No, I wanted to be as quiet as possible, put as much distance between me and the pack as I could, so I’d be long gone before they figured it out. It was also great that tomorrow was Saturday, not only was father going to be gone since he’s talking to the father of the girl, but mother wouldn’t care about me to come check on me or wake me up. No, if father decided to stay away until Monday mother wouldn’t care about me in the least, and I might have the whole weekend to be as far away as I can be. 

    I nearly slipped down the tiles but I caught myself, my foot jamming into the hole of the gutter painfully and I winced, hoping I didn’t sprain it. I stared down, placing my other foot at the end of the vine as I watched the guards. They seemed to move on a schedule, like they timed every ten minutes of standing to three minutes of moving, and then back to ten minutes of standing guard again. It was precise, but it gave me ten minutes to climb down. I wasn’t sure if that was long enough, honestly, especially since everything was slippery from the rain earlier today, but I couldn’t think about that. I waited painstakingly, my foot aching in a way that told me I had indeed sprained it, waiting for them to move. Once they started their three minutes of moving and stretching I waited some more, until they returned to position. It was now or never. I slid down the vine as fast as I could, trying my best to be quiet. Bears were great at smelling but not that great at listening, especially in their human form, so I had that advantage. I was glad for it, because my breathing was thick and heavy and my heart was beating so fast I was sure they could hear it. 

    I made it to the bush with one minute to spare, crouching down and pressing the guitar against the wall in time for them to move again. I stared through the bush and tried to calm my breathing, judging the distance between this bush and the group of bushes near the tree, the five-second dash I’d need to take as low as possible. I was glad there wasn’t a moon out tonight, that plus my black attire would be my advantage. I moved the backpack to my front, hiding the logo under it as I tightened the strap on my guitar, waiting. There, they were back in position. I darted to the other bush, nearly tripping as my foot throbbed and caught on a rock, but I made it. Now in the bush I crawled to the tree, standing up straight and hiding behind it. I sighed, looking at the dark houses behind it, down the hill, and the forest behind them. Slowly I slunk down the hill, keeping as silent and as low as I could, surprised by how easy this was going. If I knew it was this easy, I would have done this years ago. But would I? I didn’t have a reason before. I hated being locked in the house, how lonely it was, how strict and overbearing my father was, and how mean and rude my mother was. Besides that though, I was given everything I wanted and I had the freedom to go off and read, do whatever I wanted. It was lonely, but it wasn’t bad, at least not until I knew the truth. The truth that destroyed everything. 

    After the last house, I broke out into a run for the trees, Stopping and hiding as a bear ran out of the forest, huffing and puffing past me as it returned to the pack. I nearly had a panic attack thinking it was after me, but no, they didn’t see me and they didn’t think to sniff the air around them, since it seemed their shift was over. I kept quiet and walked slowly and carefully through the forest, keeping an eye out for more bears. Finally, with aching feet and an aching ankle, I found the road on the other side just as the sun started to rise in the distance, the beautiful dark red and yellow washing over the road. I looked at it and shrugged, walking towards the sun, thinking maybe it was a sign of which way to go. I could only hope I was right, since all I had was a journal to lead the way.