My Unknown Wolf

Chapter 3 - Birthday Parties and Breakdowns

Emerson’s POV 

When I woke up the next morning, I knew two things, it was only eight in the morning, and my best friend Ivy was bouncing up and down on my bed.  

I grabbed one of my spare pillows and hit her across the head, “Ivy, it’s too bloody early to be awake.” 

She laughed, swatting the pillow away and fixed up her curly raven black hair, “Happy birthday! Your birthday present is the pleasure of my company and a trip to the spa for a day of relaxation.”

Ivy Archer was one of the few people I could stand in this city. She came from money, like me but was more down to earth than most people in our circles who constantly walk around with their noses in the air, so they didn’t need to look at people they deem unworthy of their time. 

She was a leggy 5’10, with bright brown eyes and a figure to die for. She was active in the community and filled most of her spare time with volunteering with local charities. Whilst most of the time, our families just threw money at them and patted themselves on the back for a job well done, she preferred a more hands-on approach. 

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m grounded for missing curfew last night. I’m allowed to attend my birthday party and nothing else.” I advised her. 

She smiled at me, showing her pearly whites, “So your mum said when she opened the door for me, but I explained to her that going to the spa was essential for your party tonight so that you look the part.” 

I broke out into a smile too, “And she agreed?” Ivy nodded, “so go get that cute little butt of yours in the shower and get dressed. We have our first appointment at nine.” 

I had never gotten out of bed so quickly or showered so quickly in my life. The spa wasn’t my favorite place to go, but if it got me out of the house and away from my mother’s lectures, I was all for it. Once clean, I dried off and walked into my walk-in closet, which was about the size of my room itself. Most girls would kill for a closet like this filled with designer brands as far as the eye could see, but I never got a say in anything that was in it. It was like I was my mother’s living, breathing dress-up doll and needed to keep up appearances for the sake of our family name. 

I grabbed a random pair of jeans and a Gucci blouse and threw them on, pairing them with one of the few pairs of sandals I owed, and I was good to go. When I got back to the bedroom, Ivy was studying the drawings on my wall. 

“Are these new?” She queried. I nodded, “Girl, they are amazing. You really have a gift.” 

I loved drawing, well, any art, but drawing was what I was best at. I spent any free time I had with my nose buried in my sketch pad. I drew landscapes mainly but was starting to get into drawing people. The sketch she was looking at was of a busker I had been watching when I had gone to the park the other day to get away from my mother’s disapproving eyes. Nothing I ever did was good enough for her. I was a straight-A student and on the honour roll all through high school, but because I wasn’t valedictorian, I wasn’t living up to the Thomas family name even though I got into Columbia, Yale and Harvard. I was a great runner and got all sorts of awards and had trophies and ribbons covering most surfaces in my bedroom, but I came second at the nationals, and that was not first. 

If I had my choice, I would be going to Yale to study art and design, but there was no way my parents would accept that. Instead, they wanted me to study either business or go pre-law and wouldn’t pay for my tuition if I didn’t. So I was hoping I could sneak in a few art classes into my schedule once I got there. 

Ivy and I spent the day getting massages, facials, manicures, pedicures and body scrubs, and by the time I got home, my mother had her hairdresser and makeup artist waiting for me. Three hours later, I was ready in a dress I hated and covered in caked up makeup and hairspray. While I could see that the woman staring back at me in the mirror was beautiful, she just wasn’t me. My mother had chosen a knee-length deep purple Gucci dress tonight with a halter, sweetheart neckline with she paired with a crystal-covered pair of Jimmy Choo pumps and had made me wear the jewellery she had brought me for my birthday. All from Tiffanys. I could sell this entire outfit and feed a small family for six months. The more I studied myself in the mirror, the more I wished my grounding had included cancelling tonight. 

“We look ridiculous.” A voice growled.  

I glanced around, looking for the source again, “what the hell is going on?” 

“I’ve been trying to take it easy on you as you don’t know who you are, but I’m your wolf, Emerson. You can call me Ruby.” The voice explained. 

Okay, this was starting to freak me out, “Am I going crazy?” 

The voice chuckled, “Nope, I’m real.” I rubbed my temples as I felt a headache coming on, “This is not really. I do not hear voices.” 

“Trying to force me down when you don’t know what you’re doing will hurt your head.” It warned. 

“Just leave me alone,” I stated firmly through my gritted teeth. 

“Are you talking to me?” A gruff voice called out from behind me. 

I squealed and spun around to see my father standing in the doorway. Malcolm Thomas was a good ten years older than my mother. He was 6’0 tall with a stocky build, brown eyes and salt and pepper colored hair and beard. He was more easy-going than my mother but was still hard to please. Tonight, he was dressed in an impeccable three-piece navy suit and tan leather shoes and a matching tie. 

“Sorry, dad.” I advised, “I’m getting a bit of a headache and was trying to psych myself up for this party. You sure you can’t convince mom to reschedule this dinner?” 

My father pinched the bridge of his nose, his token move with he was disappointed with me. “Emerson, your mother worked very hard on this party. The least you can do is show a little gratitude.” 

I turned my head away from him before rolling my eyes at his statement. This party wasn’t for me. This party was to show off to all of her friends. To show them how much better she was at throwing a party. She said this party was for me, but I bet when we arrived, most of the guests would be my parents’ friends, not mine. 

My father left me to my own devices without another word. I had just enough time to put on a little black borelo jacket to protect my arms from the cool night air and stuff my phone and other necessities into a clutch before my mother bellowed from the end of the hall, telling me it was time to go. It wasn’t a long drive, and before I knew it, we were arriving at my parents’ private social club. Only the most Manhattan elite families gained membership here, and for one night, only my mother had rented out the entire rooftop for this dinner party she wanted to throw me. 

About one hundred people were waiting for us when we arrived upstairs, all singing out happy birthday when I arrived. Looking around the room, I was right that most of the guest list were friends of my parents and their children. The only person I could tolerate in this room was Ivy, and she whisked me straight off to the bar to sneak some champagne.  I managed to hide for about an hour with her before my mother found me and ordered me to work the room and thank everyone for coming. 

I had just gotten through about half the crowd when I snuck away and hid in a dark corner for a few minutes to have some alone time, but that was just short when the smell of cologne overwhelled me, and I looked up saw the person I least wanted to see. 

“Well, well”, the owner of the gag-worthy cologne commented, looking me up and down, “haven’t you grown up good.” 

The charmer in front of me was Grayson Cunningham, twenty years old and a recent graduate of Harvard with a business degree. He was the son of my parents’ best friends and the biggest pain in the ass in my life. Every summer he came home from school, our parents’ tried pushing us together. Suggesting we go out for dinner together, go out for coffee or to the club. I detested him. I won’t lie and say he wasn’t good looking because he wasn’t bad on the eyes. He was about 6’0 with blonde, perfectly styled hair, blue eyes and a lean build, and most girls drooled over him, but he was arrogant, entitled and just an all-around jerk to anyone he felt was inferior to him.

“Jeez, Grayson, is that supposed to be a compliment?” I queried as I glared at him. 

He smirked at me, getting closer until he was invading my personal space, “It most definitely is, when I saw you last summer, I was a little worried you were tall, lanky and flat, but it looks like that you have filled out in all the right places.” 

I clicked my fingers in front of his face trying to get him to shift his attention from my boobs, “My eyes are up here, perv.” 

“Our parents think that we are a perfect match, and now that I have seen you again, I agree with them. So would you do me the honor of allowing me to take you for a spin on the dance floor?” He asked as he licked his lips like I was a piece of meat.

I shot him a glare, “So if I looked the same as I did last year, you would leave me alone?” 

Grayson shrugged his shoulders, “Guess we will never know because you are a knockout. So how about that dance?” 

“No thanks, Grayson. I’m not in the mood. Find someone else to be your arm candy for the night I’m not interested.” I responded as I placed my hands on his chest, trying to shove him away from me so I could escape. 

Unfortunately for me, he stood firm and wrapped one of his hands around my wrists, pulling them above my head and holding them in place against the wall as he placed a leg on either side of mine, effectively pinning me in place. I struggled against his grip, but I could move. He was bigger and stronger than I was. I was starting to panic when he pressed his torso against mine, and I could feel his warm breath tickling the skin on my neck. I had picked this spot for a specific reason. It was a dark corner out of the sight of the rest of the guests. No one was going to come to my rescue. I felt sick as I felt his free hand reach down to the hem of my dress and sliding under it whilst he pressed his lips against mine to muffle my attempts to scream. I was starting to lose hope when I heard the voice again, 

“You are stronger than this Emmy, you don’t have your full strength yet, but you are strong enough to fight off this creep. Fight back.” 

An indescribable rage started to grow inside of me. Last night the guy that I thought I was in love with turned out to be a jerk who was trying to get me into bed to win a bet, and now a guy my parents’ thought was the perfect guy for me was trying to take advantage of me at my birthday party. Seriously were all guys like this? Were all guys just after one thing? I had always dreamed of finding a guy who wanted to know me, who wanted to make me happy and would love me for who I was, not for my body or money. 

Before I could think, a wave of adrenaline started coursing through my body, and I managed to free my hands from his iron grip, place them back on his chest and push him away. I was proud of how far away from me I managed to push him. 

“Who the hell do you think you are, Grayson? What else do I have to say to get you to understand that it's not going to happen.” I demanded. 

He took a few steps towards me, and I heard a growl in my head again, “hit him!” 

I clenched my fist and swung it at him as hard as I could, relishing the sound as it connected with his face. 

He clutched his jaw with his hand as he glared at me, “you stupid little bitch.” 

“Duck!” the voice called out as his fist headed towards me. 

I did as it suggested and ducked just in time, his fist connecting with the wall behind me. By this time, we were starting to attract attention from the crowd due to the sounds. 

“Watch it. He’s going to try something again.” It warned. 

I felt like my head was going to explode with the pain I felt. I was going crazy. I didn’t want to hear it anymore. I just wanted it to stop. I kept one eye on Grayson as I dropped to my knees, clutching my head. 

“JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!” I screamed, not caring who heard me, “GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” 

But the pain was too much, and the next thing I knew, I felt the darkness wash over me.

When I woke up, I was in a white room, my head was feeling a lot better, but I wasn’t sure what was happening. I tried to get up but when I tried to move my hands something was stopping them. I glanced down and saw a white furry cuff around my wrist. What the hell was going on? I started to panic, tugging and straining against the cuffs, trying to break free, but they wouldn’t budge.

“Someone help me!” I cried out, “can anyone hear me?” 

I jumped as the door flung open and an old man in a white coat walked in, “Good morning, Miss Thomas, you gave us quite a scare. My name is Dr Milton.” 

“What’s going on? Where am I?” I asked him. 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little flashlight, flashing it in my eyes, “You are at the Briarwood Psychiatric Care Facility in South Hamptons. You had a bit of an episode last night and attacked one of your party guests and passed out. Your parents thought it was a good idea for you to come here.” 

My mouth dropped in shock, “Attached a guest, no! That asshole tried to assault me.” The Doctor sighed, “you need to rest now. We will get you assessed when you’ve calmed down.” 

He strolled out of the room without another word. I struggled against the cuffs again, trying to break them. Finally, I started trying to kick my legs but was met with the same resistance. “Somebody help me!” I called out loudly, trying not to cry. I needed to get out of here. 

“Don’t worry.” The small voice pleaded, “I’m going to get us out of here.” 

Maybe this was where I belonged.