We will not fulfill any book request that does not come through the book request page or does not follow the rules of requesting books. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Comments are manually approved by us. Thus, if you don't see your comment immediately after leaving a comment, understand that it is held for moderation. There is no need to submit another comment. Even that will be put in the moderation queue.

Please avoid leaving disrespectful comments towards other users/readers. Those who use such cheap and derogatory language will have their comments deleted. Repeat offenders will be blocked from accessing this website (and its sister site). This instruction specifically applies to those who think they are too smart. Behave or be set aside!

(Un)wise: Chapter 10


Birdsong and sunlight drifted along the spring breeze that teased my hair. My hair, not someone else’s or a past me. I recognized where I stood. It was the meadow of my other dreams. Only, the great stone monoliths had aged and weathered to stunted broken pillars. Was this then a real dream, pointless and meant to be forgotten as soon as I woke? Unsure, I waited for the Taupe Lady to appear.

Nothing moved in the open field surrounding the stones. I turned in a slow circle. The dream felt empty, a shadow of what it should be if it were a memory. Yet, real dreams, the pointless kind, were so rare now. I couldn’t believe this was one of them.

“We need to talk,” I called out. I wanted to shout my questions and make threats, mostly just to vent, but I held it all in hoping she would come to me if I was nice.

The wind carried her answer to me. “My daughter. Your path is your own to choose. I can influence it no more than I have already done. Remember,” she whispered. “Dream.”

The dream shifted.

I sat on a bed covered with a light pink quilt and squeezed the teddy bear in my arms as I listened to the footsteps pause outside my door. Using my sight, I checked everyone’s location in the house.

Justin had come home for winter break just tonight. I hadn’t met him before but had talked to him on the phone. He’d been so nice to me. His mom usually fostered two kids at a time. They had the room, she’d said, in their hearts and in their house. I’d hoped it would be different here. The other foster girl with me didn’t really like me, but the other girls usually didn’t. Justin, though, had seemed so nice. I’d hoped he would just stay away at school.

When he’d given me a hug in greeting, it had been just a little too tight. When he’d pulled back and looked me in the eye, I knew.

I gently lifted the phone from the receiver with a heavy heart. I’d already disabled the sound so he wouldn’t hear me dial from in the hallway. The knob on the door turned, and I quickly set the phone to the side.

“What are you doing, Justin?” I asked calmly as he opened the door.

“I just wanted to check on you,” he said with a smile. He stepped in and closed the door behind him.

I clutched the bear tighter. “I’m fine. I think you should leave.”

“Don’t be like that,” he begged softly as he sat on the edge of the bed. “I see you got the bear I sent,” he nodded toward the bear I clutched. I’d hoped it would remind him of my age.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Twenty-one. Why are you asking?” He smiled and reached a hand to smooth over my hair.

“Because I’m twelve, and you shouldn’t be touching me. Not even my hair.”

He sighed and dropped his hand, his eyes growing puzzled. Then he nodded slowly. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Good night, Gabby.” He leaned forward with the intent of kissing me. I dodged out of the way, bumping the table that held the phone.

“Don’t,” I warned. “Justin, I like your mom, but with you here, I can’t stay.”

The door to my room opened, and Justin’s mom looked from me to her son. Her face was white with shock, and she loosely held a phone in her hand. Justin looked at her phone, then the phone on the table by my bed.

“What are you doing in here?”

He scowled. “Nothing.”

His mom’s eyes shifted to me.

“It’s time I leave,” I said softly. She nodded and dialed the phone.

The dream shifted.

My foster dad leaned over my chair, his arm brushing against my breast as he served me mashed potatoes. I met the eyes of my foster mom at the end of the table. Her eyes filled with tears, and she looked away. After dinner, I rushed to the phone and dialed a number I knew by heart.

The dream shifted.

Alixe and I had gotten on well for three months before services called asking if she could take on another teen. She assured them I was an angel and that she would have no trouble adding another. When she hung up, she told me that Brandon would be joining our happy home. I tried not to show my disappointment. I asked his age. Fourteen, same as me. Maybe that would make a difference.

We worked together to make the single bed in the third room. She told me to let her know if there was any trouble. Brandon came to the door an hour later. He stood with his head down trying to hide his face. His swollen eye and nose told his story better than his slumped shoulders and dirty clothes.

Alixe coaxed him in and spoke with the officer dropping him off. The boy’s abuse was clear. Still, when he risked a look up and met my eyes, I saw a change in him. A small one. He glanced back down quickly, but the slump in his shoulders was gone.

The next morning, I woke with him standing beside my bed, staring at me.

“Why do I feel like this?” he whispered to me, close to tears. His hands shook. I wanted to cry, too. I wished I knew why the men around me acted as they did…why they couldn’t just leave me alone.

“If you ignore me, it will help,” I whispered back. He nodded but didn’t move.

Finally, he sighed, wiped at his tears, and winced when he touched the swollen skin. Then he left.

I sat with Alixe at the breakfast table after he’d eaten and left the room.

“He needs help,” I said softly. She nodded, looking sad. “I don’t think me being here will help him. He needs you more than I do. Please. Call services. Let them know we talked, and I need a new home so you can focus on Brandon.”

The dream shifted.

I sat at the dinner table across from an older man, warily keeping an eye on him as he ate with gusto. It was my third night in his house and so far everything had gone great. I didn’t let myself get too hopeful, though. My faith in men hadn’t held up well after my experiences with foster care and school.

He forked in the last bite of spaghetti and meat sauce—more sauce than meat—from his plate and sat back with a sigh. He frowned at my plate. “I know it’s not much,” he said.

I shook my head. “Sam, it’s fine. I’m just not that hungry.” I eyed the huge mound of noodles on my plate.

He glanced at my plate, too, and grinned. “I’ll remember to cut the serving back next time,” he promised. I agreed and rose to put the rest into a container and wash my dishes. He stood and waited for his turn at the sink. He kept a respectful distance between us.

When I was about to leave the room with my school bag, he called my name. I glanced back at him. He looked a little lost as he met my gaze. “You’ll tell me if you need something, right? Lunch money or a ride to the mall?”

I nodded wondering what he really meant with this unusual line of questioning. He must have sensed my confusion because he sighed and gave a self-deprecating smile. “Cubs are easy. Feed them, give them your time, and they are happy. You don’t need much food, and you prefer to be alone. I don’t know how to raise a human. A human girl is even more,” he waved his hand at me, “confusing.”

A tiny smile crept onto my face seeing him so flustered. Living with a werewolf already beat living with any foster family, except maybe the last one. My smile faded, and I felt a tad lonely for Barb.

“If I need anything, I’ll let you know.” I turned and left the kitchen.

The dreams stopped. Darkness claimed me for a moment before her voice floated in.

“Every moment you live offers you a chance to learn. Your experiences and your reactions to them make you who you are. Who are you, daughter? And what have you learned?

The dreams started again. I didn’t struggle against them, wanting to know more about what I faced.

My stepfather, Richard, looked pale as Blake suggested I take the children outside to play. At just over a year, my brother couldn’t really play outside yet, and the baby shouldn’t be in the sun. I knew that from my mom. My eyes watered thinking of her. We’d just had her funeral a few days ago.

Regardless, Richard told me to take them both outside. One of Blake’s friends followed us out. Either Blake or one of his associates had been with us since Mom died. I didn’t really like any of them. Mostly because Mom hadn’t. Aden fussed, and I gently set him against my shoulder, rocking him side to side.

“Shut that kid up,” the man with us growled.

I frowned at him but started whispering to the baby, trying anyway.

“Bring the older one back,” Blake called from inside.

The man strode over and for a moment, I thought he would grab me. Then he reached down and plucked Liam up by his tiny little arm. Liam screamed and just dangled there not understanding.

“Stop!” I yelled, trying to reach for Liam while still holding Aden. The man held him away and went inside. I raced after him, holding Aden tight.

Richard sat at the table crying, his face in his hands, not even looking at his son.

“Set him down,” Blake ordered. His eyes remained on me. I thought he meant Aden, and I clutched him tighter. But his friend set Liam down. “That’s not how you carry a child,” Blake said to the man. His voice held little censor. He squatted before Liam, who sat in a sobbing heap on the floor.

“You do love your brothers, don’t you, Michelle.” He patted Liam on the head and stood again. “I’ll be helping your father for a while, until he’s on his feet again.”

I briefly glanced at Richard, not correcting Blake. He wasn’t my father, but he’d loved my mom very much. If he felt half the pain I did, I understood how he felt.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Blake said evenly before turning toward Richard. “The contractors will start work this afternoon. We need to keep you all safe.”

The dream shifted.

I sat in the boys’ room playing quietly with them. The stifling sterile room echoed back even their quietest whispers, but this was the only place in the house that they were allowed to play. The easiest place to monitor us—me.

Richard strode through the door with purpose.

“The last tip did marginally well. Blake would like to thank you and asked me to find out what you would like as a reward.”

This was Blake’s game. Every time one of my premonitions did well—they all did well—Blake offered a reward. In the beginning, I had used these opportunities to ask for new toys for my brothers or new clothes for us or even to be allowed a few minutes outside. But I’d caught on to what I was doing. Each time I asked for something, I let them know what mattered to me. Last night, Blake had proven my theory correct by threatening to take all outside time away from the boys if I didn’t sit down and eat with him and his associates.

“Please tell him I am happy with whatever reward he chooses,” I murmured without looking up from our puzzle.

“Michelle, he will insist that you choose,” Richard said with worry in his voice. It was the first time in a long time he’d acted human. I glanced up in time to see his fear-filled eyes rest on Liam.

He feared for their safety. So did I. I needed to find a way to escape. Until then, I would pretend to play Blake’s game. “A ribbon. For my hair, please.”

The dream shifted.

A gag covered my mouth as tears streamed down my cheeks. The gag didn’t hurt. The cord tying my hands didn’t even hurt. My head though, it throbbed and ached, the pain dull and sharp at the same time, snaking its way through every cell in my brain as the premonition repeated itself.

Blake stood over me smirking.

“I told you, you would be punished if you tried to run.” He bent down to where I’d fallen to my side on the floor. The premonition had been running through my mind for almost two days. They’d let me eat and drink in the beginning, unbinding my hands and removing the gag, while they wore earplugs and earmuffs with music. They’d tried getting me to eat and drink a while ago, but I refused. The pain was too much.

I sniffled as my nose started to run. My eyes had been watering for hours now. Blake reached forward and touched the wetness just under my nose. He pulled back and showed me his fingers. It wasn’t just a runny nose. Blood smeared his fingertips.

“Do you understand, yet? You need me, Michelle. Who else can you tell this information to?”

I closed my eyes with a sob, wishing the pain would end. Behind the gag, I moved my lips weakly, mumbling the information because I couldn’t help myself.

The cord holding my wrists together loosened. Without thought, my shaking hand flew to my mouth to tear away the gag. I sobbed out the information, and the pain immediately stopped. I didn’t stop sobbing for a long time.

Luke called my name, and I struggled to wake as I felt the dream try to shift. I didn’t want to remember any more. I wanted my own reality back. As crappy as it was. Someone pounded on a door, helping to pull me out of sleep’s hold.

I blinked my eyes open, cringing at the cold water hitting my face as I looked up into the spray of the showerhead. It took me a moment to remember what had happened. Tired after a few more hours of riding, we’d found yet another hotel. He said he’d run and get food. I said I would take a shower. I’d kept it cold thinking I’d stay awake. Instead, I’d set myself up for hypothermia.

I shivered uncontrollably and wiped water from my face. My numb legs didn’t want to move and my tailbone throbbed painfully.

“She’s trying to kill me,” I muttered as I struggled to lift myself from the bottom of the tub.

The door flew open with a crack, disturbing the air and making the shower curtain flutter. It stuck to my skin, and I curled my lip. Gross. Hotel shower curtain. Touching me. I frantically batted it away thinking of all the nasty things on it—and once my mind was on the subject, all the nasty things at the bottom of the hotel tub—when the curtain was suddenly torn aside.

Luke stared down at me. Rage and panic filled his eyes.

“What the hell?” I sputtered trying to grab the curtain and cover myself, no longer so picky about it touching me. Red crept up his neck as I watched.

Flustered, he let the curtain go, but he still had the sense to reach around to turn off the water. His eyes raked my face. “You fell asleep again, didn’t you?” he asked with soft reproach.

“Of course I did! I always fall asleep. Now, get out!” Embarrassment and anger warred for dominance. It was one thing to joke about us, to try to Claim him, and to kid about my boobs. But, to have him actually see me? All of me? I wanted to curl up in a ball of shame. I didn’t eat right and looked like hell. The scars on my arms still stood out vividly which was why I wore clothes to cover them. And he’d seen everything. I’d noted the shock in his eyes before he surrendered the curtain.

“Be out in two minutes, or I’m coming back in,” he warned, closing the door behind him.

“If you come back in, you better be naked too,” I shouted at the closed door, anger finally winning.

With shaking limbs, I pulled myself from the tub and wrapped myself in a towel. I used the other towel—the one meant for Luke—to dry my hair. Those dreams shook me. The first three had been the same girl. Gabby. No doubt the same Gabby Luke kept talking about. The second set of dreams also involved a single star. Michelle. Their lives sucked just like mine. It didn’t make me feel any better.

Taking my time, I brushed my teeth and gradually warmed enough that the blue tint faded from my lips. More than two minutes had passed, and I gave myself a weak smirk in the mirror.

Pulling my bag close, I dug for clean clothes. Not finding any, I settled for the cleanest. I took my time getting dressed.

Finally, I stepped out of the bathroom. I ran my fingers through my damp tangled hair and gave him the barest glance before I moved to the hotel’s TV guide, pretending to read it.

“Either we get where we’re going tomorrow, or we need to find a laundromat. Everything’s dirty,” I commented.

Silence greeted me. Stifling the urge to scrunch up my face in annoyance, I took a calming breath and turned to face him.

Luke reclined on the bed, his hands behind his head, as he watched me move around the room. His shirt stretched tight over his chest. I struggled to pull my gaze away. His exposed arms flexed as he moved one out from behind his head. On the inside, I sighed.

“Come on,” he said, waving me over. “Get some sleep.”

He knew sleeping in a cold shower didn’t qualify as rest, but I hadn’t expected him to be on the bed waiting for me after my smart remark. I shuffled to the bed in my stocking feet and lay beside him, not too eager to sleep just yet.

He pulled me to his side, slid an arm under my head, and tucked me under his chin. His heat melted away the lingering chill of the shower. His willingness to get so close while I was still awake puzzled me—he usually waited until I was already slipping into a dream. He lightly ran a hand down my covered arm. Right over the cuts I’d once made in desperation. I closed my eyes in shame.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “Not with me. I’m not here to judge you. I’m here to keep you safe. Always. Even from yourself.”

His arm tightened around me. This time I dove for the dream tugging at my consciousness. Anything to escape the little tug at my heart his words caused.


We left the room several hours later. I didn’t think he’d slept at all, but I had five hours of sweet nothing—well, not nothing. I’d woken to my face plastered to his bare chest. Best five hours of sleep ever.

“We should reach the Compound by nightfall.”

When we stepped into the parking lot, Luke’s stride paused. He tilted his head back, scented the light breeze, grabbed my hand, and pulled me toward the bike. I didn’t stop to wonder why. He’d smelled something. I quickly slipped the bag across my body and climbed on behind him as my eyes searched for the cause. Luke started the bike with a roar.

Just then, two men stepped from the office. My heart leapt, and my arms involuntarily tightened around Luke. He took off with a squeal of the back tire. The bike slipped under us a bit, but I risked a look back. Where the men had stood, two large dogs stared after us. They didn’t give chase. Instead, they turned and ran into the woods.

“They’re not following,” I called to Luke.

He nodded and opened the throttle. My stomach rolled at the surge in speed. Thankfully, I hadn’t eaten anything.

We merged with an interstate that took us south, not north. I wanted to moan in frustration, but understood his decision. Since we were so close to our goal, they would know our intended direction. Hopping on the interstate would throw them off. Heck, it threw me off. I had no idea which way we intended to come in from.

How had they found us though? We’d been careful, zigzagging all over the place in a non-pattern. I’d been watching the map. Maybe Luke was right. They had sentinels waiting for us. But we were still so many miles away. Could they have so many in their pack as that? I doubted it. Maybe it’d just been luck. Or maybe, he’d told someone again. I rested my head against his back, emotionally drained. I’d fluctuated between “just let me die” and “I don’t want to die” too many times to count. I didn’t know what I wanted anymore except to be left alone. I had never asked to be in the middle of a werewolf tug of war.

We drove for hours the wrong way and then got off at an exit heading east so we could circle back around. Despite his efforts, I knew it would be pointless. Like he’d said, they would be waiting—because somehow, they always seemed to know where to expect us. I knew what I needed to do.

When he offered to stop, I pointed to a laundromat. He nodded and pulled in. He loosened the bag, and I slid off, taking the bag with me. His troubled gaze never wavered from me as he followed me into the light airy building.

He used the change machine as I shoved everything in a washer. After adding quarters and dumping in the powder detergent from the packet I’d bought at the vending machine, I finally faced him. He eyed me warily. Apparently his wolfie senses knew something was up. I let out a long, slow breath, calmed myself, and let the beginning of a dream wrap its arms around me—not enough to sleep, just enough to slow my pulse. I had to mask a lie.

“I saw a fast food place a few blocks away. I’ll get us something.”

He frowned at me. “I’ll go with.”

“No way. We’ll lose our stuff. It’s two blocks away and we’re in the middle of town,” I arched a brow at him and patted the bag I still had slung over my shoulder. “I have protection and can carry everything with this. Two burgers?”

“Three,” he grumped reaching into his wallet and giving me a twenty. We’d used all the money he’d given me for rooms along the way.

I plucked it from his fingers with a smile. “Probably a good idea,” I agreed. “You may not have fries by the time I walk back.”

He smiled at me as he sat down to watch the machine.

I strode out the door, turned right, and didn’t look back. Not far away, I flagged down a ride and asked them if they could take me north. Staring out the window, trying to ignore the ache growing in my chest, I watched the mile markers go by.


My jaw popped on my third yawn. The couple had taken me over an hour north. They dropped me off and wished me luck. I smiled and waved as they pulled away. My stomach grumbled, and I thought of the twenty in my pocket. I still had a long way to go; and with no Luke, I needed to save the cash for when I really needed it.

Going into the gas station, I used the restroom and drank from the water fountain. The clerk watched me in the convenience mirror. Apparently my days of looking like a runaway weren’t over. I ignored him and headed out the door to begin my long trek—the gas station hadn’t had anyone who’d looked willing enough to give me a ride. Plus, the clerk would have probably called it in.

I trudged north for an hour, lost in my thoughts of this life and past lives. Why had the Taupe Lady directed my dreams to Gabby and Michelle’s pasts? Why in order? And why couldn’t I recall all the details like I could with other past lives? Because they weren’t dead yet? It made sense. How could I remember everything when everything hadn’t yet occurred? Why direct my dreams at all, though? She claimed she couldn’t interfere, but then did just that, hadn’t she?

Something had me lifting my head instead of watching my feet. The trees around me had lost their leaves, and I could once again see my breath in the air. I huddled in Luke’s jacket and wondered if he’d figured it out yet.

A twig snapped, and a group of three men stepped from the woods onto the shoulder in front of me. Steam rose from their skin. Shorts provided their only covering. Their smiles froze my insides. My feet stopped moving, but my mind whirred with possibilities. Distract and run!

“He went that way,” I called pointing to my left. They all turned, and I sprinted to the right, crashing into the trees and ignoring the bite of the branches as they whipped my face.


Comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Options

not work with dark mode
Reset