I Missed You

Our plane flew out of the Nassau airfield on late on Sunday afternoon. The Bodyglove shoot had been exhausting; we had visited a dozen or so locations, some at different times of day or night, to get the shots the photographer wanted. Time was money, I quickly learned. The small army of specialists in makeup, hair, lighting, and photography worked smoothly to go from setup to setup.

There was no changing room; three people held up towels, and I stripped off the old outfit, was handed the new one, and put it on in thirty seconds. I went from sand to surf to boat to underwater then back; after the sunset, it was streets, restaurants, and nightclubs for the casual wear. I didn’t get back to the hotel until past one, and we started shooting at six Sunday morning. That day was shorter, as they saw how the shots had turned out the day before. The photographer was relentless, moving and posing me as he took shot after shot. I hoped they would give me copies of the best pictures, but they didn’t. Phones weren’t allowed, so Mom didn’t even have her own photos.

Modeling isn’t easy. I worked my tight ass off. We signed the contract when we arrived, and a hundred thousand dollars (before taxes) went into my account. I’d get more for each appearance, and twenty grand for each day of modeling. It was exciting because money was freedom. It meant I could study whatever I wanted, without having to worry about how the Pack would benefit from it.

The cargo hold held three large suitcases of new clothes; it was everything I had worn, and a lot that I hadn’t. Now that they had my exact measurements, Mercedes promised me a few more boxes would get shipped straight to my house. When they said they wanted me to wear their clothing line, they weren’t kidding. The contract had significant penalties in it for being photographed in clothing from other designers unless Bodyglove didn’t make an equivalent. That meant I could still wear my North Face ski jacket, but I needed a Bodyglove shirt underneath.

I’d even talked them into sending a smaller collection for my Mom and Amy. It wouldn’t do to be photographed with them and have them not wear the same brand, right? They wouldn’t get paid, at least not yet. I hadn’t given up on bringing Amy into the campaign when she was ready.

Mom was sitting across from me, with Colleen across the aisle sleeping. “Mom, why haven’t you said anything about Amy except that she woke up,” I said as the plane climbed to altitude. “Surely, you know more than that.”

“I didn’t want you distracted by something you could do nothing about,” Mom replied. “Try and get some sleep before we get there.”

“WHAT. IS. HAPPENING.” I may have put a bit too much growl into it, causing my mom’s wolf to flash a rebuke. I growled back even more; this was my best friend!

“Amy has been in and out of consciousness since yesterday. It is still too early to tell, and the doctors have a lot of testing left.”

“MOM! What happened?”

I could see the sorrow in my mother’s eyes; Amy was like another daughter to her. Tears started to fall as her carefully-maintained façade crumbled like a sandcastle in the rising tide. Liv had to take a drink of water and compose herself first as the pit in my stomach spread. “The blow to the back of her head was in the area of the occipital lobe. The skull fracture was depressed, and the doctors had to remove the pressure on that area of the brain. It’s not uncommon for it to take time before you know if the damage is temporary or permanent.”

She was starting to scare me. All kinds of things went through my mind. “What happened, Mom?”

“That area of the brain is where visual images are processed, recognized, and sent on to other areas of the brain. Amy woke up, and she couldn’t see,” Mom said as she started to cry.

No. Not my best friend! “How bad,” I asked.

“The doctors don’t believe it is her eyes or her optic nerve. She can sense light and dark, but cannot focus and cannot make out objects or faces. She says it’s all a blur.”

Oh, my Luna. Amy, who never hurt anyone, had her sight taken from her in a cowardly attack.

I felt anger rise within me. Anger at Todd, who hit her and did this to her. Anger at the Killington Pack, whose Alpha had set it all in motion. Anger at Beta Max, who got off way too easy with his quick death. Anger at myself for not sensing them earlier or reacting faster.

And anger at the whole fucking Werewolf system that wanted my stupid Mantle so badly, they would do this to my best friend to get it.

“God, Mom,” I said as I started to cry. “What do I do now?”

“You be there for your best friend and help her get through this,” Mom said. “Brains are complicated; she could make a complete recovery in time, or she could have this the rest of her life. Either way, she’s your best friend.”

She was, she still IS. My mind was going a mile-a-minute trying to think of what this all meant. “What does Beta Susan say about the treatment?”

“She will be in the hospital for another week, at least. The doctors glued the bone back together and put in a protective metal plate. She’s still on strong drugs to keep the swelling down, and she’s not allowed out of bed.”

“Is she all right otherwise?” So much could happen with a brain injury, enough that I stopped researching it because it drove me nuts after I got home.

“Susan said she has no paralysis; she can hold objects, drink, and her speech is not affected. Her thinking isn’t back to normal, but that’s probably due to the painkillers and other drugs. Her wolf is still there, and she can link with her mate and Pack. She won’t be allowed to shift until surgeons remove the plate, though.”

That was better than me; I didn’t know if my wolf would come out if I asked her. She was still there and still hurting. “Did she agree to let me use that photo of us diving for the poster? I know Susan said it was all right, but I’d feel better if Amy said so.”

“She remembered the shot and was thrilled to be along for the ride,” Mom said. “Kai wasn’t as thrilled to find out his mate’s ass would be on the walls of teens everywhere.”

“We’ll get him in one of those tight men’s suits, and put both of their asses on the next poster,” I said with a laugh. “Get that tween girl demographic something to look at.”

“Then you’ll have both of them growling at people in the lines,” she replied. “You’ll need to catch up on homework while you are waiting to testify tomorrow.” The Council had waited until Amy woke up, to see if she could add anything to the testimony. She told them and the FBI that she saw nothing and remembered nothing.

She never had a chance. I should have brought someone to watch us. I should have been more vigilant. I was the one facing danger, not newly-mated, sweet Amy.

“How long do we have at the hospital?”

Mom looked at the time. “Maybe an hour before visiting hours are over. At eight, it’s off to the hotel. The plane leaves at six in the morning, after the mandatory pilot rest.” I loved the convenience of the private jet, but it did have limits. I started signing a stack of photographs that Mom would use for those who donated via the website and not a live event. I’d never been so glad that my signature wasn’t legible before this. Signing your name hundreds of times in a row felt like punishment.

I handed over the stack before we landed and grabbed my overnight bag before we got out. Susan was waiting by her car, and I ran to her and hugged her. “I’m so sorry,” I said.

“Hush, girl. Amy needs you to be strong for her right now. She’s starting to feel depressed as the reality of her blindness hits. She needs to know you don’t think of her differently, and you’re still her best friend,” Susan said.

I backed off and let Mom in. “I will,” I said. We got to the hospital just before seven, and visiting hours ended at eight. Susan got us up to speed on what was going on, so I didn’t have to ask Amy questions about it.

“Go, we’ll let you two have some time alone,” Mom said. Kai was back in Oregon for school, so she was alone in the room.

When I got off the elevator, I ran ahead, following the scent towards her room with the bag I had for her. “Amy!”

She looked towards me, her nose up as she smelled the air before she smiled. “Vicki!” I moved to her side, and though her eyes were looking, they didn’t track me. She was using scent and hearing instead. I set the bag on the table and leaned down, kissing her forehead gently while I held her hand. “I’m sorry,” she said as tears formed in her eyes. “I didn’t stop them.”

“I’m the one who is sorry, I should have insisted on an escort,” I said. “The whole thing sucked.”

“It did,” Amy said, “And I don’t have to go to any of them again until I’m a Beta.”

“Bitch,” I teased.

“Model,” she teased back.

“True, but I brought you goodies. I’ll send more when you get settled.” I pulled a few of the items out, describing them as she felt the fabrics. I had a bunch of swimwear, shirts, beach wraps, and dive tops. “This bikini will look fantastic on you when you take your man out on the beach in San Diego,” I said.

Amy snorted. “After BUDS, he probably won’t want to see sand or surf for a while,” she said. BUDS stood for Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL course in Coronado, California. The class had a dropout rate that could go over ninety percent. “He talked to his commanding officer about a hardship discharge, but he can’t get one since we weren’t married when I got attacked. If he doesn’t take his commission, he has to go to the Fleet as an enlisted sailor.”

“You told him no?”

Her voice got high and whiny. “I thought you understood! I want to marry a SEAL. I want to live overseas. I want to be the wife of a Special Operator!” I laughed as I caught the take-off to the line from that classic old movie my Mom liked, ‘An Officer and a Gentleman.’ Richard Gere is over eighty years old, for crying out loud.

The visit was just what we both needed to cheer each other up. Amy told me about how wonderful Kai and his family had been to her, and I told her about modeling and fundraising. I asked her about school; it turned out she finished two of her classes, she’d have enough credits to graduate. The teachers agreed to let her work independently, and so she could finish school in a few weeks. “Maybe I should do that,” I said.

“You need to finish your project, Vicki. It’s been your dream to do something big for shark conservation, and you need to go for it. Mom said that you’ve already raised over two million dollars.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty wild,” I said. “We’ll have enough for the first production run, and we start aquarium appearances again next weekend.” The first appearance at the Minnesota Zoo had been, well, a zoo. I walked into the auditorium as a bunch of boys yelled, “SHARKBABE! OOH LA LA! SHARKBABE! OOH LA LA!” I blushed but got through the talk and signed photos and posters for hours.

We raised over fifty thousand dollars that day.

Our team was thrilled at the exposure, and we put a million deposit down on the first units last Friday. The deliveries would start in two weeks.

Mom and Susan came to the door. “It’s time to go,” Susan said. She wasn’t allowed to stay past visiting hours, and she would be going back to the hotel with us.

“Dang it,” I said. “I miss you, Amy.”

“I miss you too, Vicki. Make sure those bastards pay for what they did at the trials.”

That was the next stop; Killington, Vermont, the winter playground where the Council was going to hold trials on the senior Pack leadership. I couldn’t give Amy her sight back, but I could make sure she got justice.