Chapter Five

Dylan

You know, dreaming is a funny thing. One minute you’re happy the next sad then happy again and then it abruptly ends. My dreams are normally like movie trailers. The minute one gets good it’s on to the next one. In all of my years I can’t remember ever having what I would call a full dream. They have a beginning and a middle but they damned sure never have an end. Unless you can count me waking up drenched in sweat or tears, I tend to have those endings pretty often.

I roll out of bed after that doozy of what can only be described as a nightmare, and trudge to the kitchen. The clock on the stove says it’s half past one and I groan out loud. I have to be a functioning human being in less than four hours. Instead of trying to force myself back to sleep I just get a pot of coffee started and head to the bathroom to start slowly getting ready.

After using the restroom I take a look at myself in the mirror. The dark circles I try so desperately to hide are getting worse thanks to nights like these and is that the start of wrinkles I see? I huff out air through my nose and splash water onto my face. Nightmares always ruin my entire day and I’m getting an early start on the self-loathing today I guess. I pat around on the counter for my towel to dry my face off and feel it fall to the floor. Letting out yet another groan I ease down to my knees and grab it, drying my face off before I stand. By this time the water on face was freezing so it woke me up and felt extremely good to get off. I go to stand but something in the trash catches my eye.

Upon first glance it looks like a slightly used feminine pad which grosses me out until I realize I haven’t had my monthly yet. I still reach out and grab it with my pointer finger and thumb, picking it up like it’ll bite me. It isn’t until I feel the texture that I realize it’s the bandages I put on Dean when he was here. I smile lightly at the thought of him, it’s been almost a month since then and getting to know him slowly via text has been really fun. My smile fades when I see the amount of blood that’s actually on the bandage. Even though I was able to stop his bleeding and stitch him up there should have been more blood here than this. Just as I’m about to dive deep into thought my cell phone rings. I drop the bandage in the trash and rush to the phone. It must be an emergency if anyone’s calling at two in the morning.

“Hello,” I breathe, answering the device without looking at it.

“Open your door,” a familiar voice says and I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face.

I check my appearance in the mirror beside the door. My hair is still in the sloppy bun I put it in, my face looks a little less exhausted thanks to the cold water, and my lips are slightly chapped. I grab my EOS lip balm and slide some on before opening the door and leaning against it slightly, my attempt at being alluring.

I watch him as he takes in my appearance from head to toe, stopping to linger on where his shirt stops mid-thigh.

“Can I help you with something Dean Jarreau?” I ask sweetly, I couldn’t tell you why I’m being so…playful with him.

His eyes finally drag back up to my face slowly and he gives me that self-assured grin of his I love so much, “Actually, you can. I’m freezing my fucking balls off out here.”

I giggle at his dirty mouth and step aside. I’ve come to know over the past month that he adores the word fuck and any variation of it. How far that goes I haven’t discovered…yet. He plops down on my bed and lies all the way back. He’s so long that he stretches the entire width of the bed and his feet are still firmly on the ground.

I climb into the bed beside him with my knees beneath me, “So what’s up?”

He’s been coming over like this for the past couple of weeks when he gets too stressed only it’s normally right once I get off of work so he ends up spending the night. He sighs and rubs his hand down his face before resting both of his hands on his stomach.

“Do you ever get the feeling that sometimes we interrupt fate?” I look at him disconcertedly and he explains. “What I mean is, do you ever think that sometimes things are meant to happen and we get in the way and fuck it up?”

I take the time to think about my answer and then shake my head, earning a questioning eyebrow raise from him.

“I’m a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. If it was meant to happen then it would’ve. What is this all about Karter?”

He sits up at the use of his first name, I never call him that unless I’m serious and I am. Five times in the past two weeks he’s come here and each time I’ll try to find out what’s wrong only for him to bullshit me. He just keeps talking in circles until I fall asleep. Not from boredom but like I said he only comes after I get off of work. I was beginning to think he was just using it as an excuse to stay the night which I didn’t mind because he kept the nightmares away but now, with him coming so early I know something must actually be wrong.

He takes his time before answering. I watch him and I can see him calculating a lie that he can tell me that I’ll actually believe.

“The truth, Karter,” I state, looking straight into his pale green orbs I’ve grown so fond of.

He pulls his light pink lip into his mouth, wetting it.  “I keep feeling like I should’ve died that night,” he says, his eyes looking down at the comforter like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

My eyes bulge and I search for words to say but every single one escapes me all except his favorite, “Fuck.”

Karter

I’ve come to the conclusion that I am a piece of shit. I just lied to one of the most important people in my life right now. I wanted to tell her the real reason I came here. I wanted to tell her everything about me, about her, and who we are to each other. I wanted to spill everything and let the chips fall where they fell but instead, I lied. I’ve been coming here for the past couple of weeks when things get too heavy at the pack house. Being near her takes the edge off and lately I’ve really needed it. Questioning more than one hundred confused wolves about treasonous acts is definitely not a fun task. The resounding wave of hurt and anguish each wolf leaves the room with is unbearable. For the past month the cloud filled with it hasn’t lifted from the property. No matter how much we explained that questioning them was a formality and that we were just covering all of the bases, each wolf took it personally. A big part of me wishes to just drop the entire thing. It’s damaging the trust within my pack. Countless wolves have come to us ratting on other wolves about “suspicious” behavior only to find after further investigation that it’s nothing. Neighbors are turning on each other all in the name of loyalty to their Alpha.

I guess what I told Dylan wasn’t a complete lie. Initially I toyed with the idea that maybe I was meant to die that night. That maybe without me, the pack would be better off. Those thoughts however, were quickly shut down and replaced with ideas that hurt me to the core. I’m not fit to lead. That night when all hell broke loose, I ran. Alpha males do not run. Cowards do. Men who are weak and not suitable to lead anyone run. Alpha males, Alpha wolves fight, to the death even. The fact that my first instinct was to protect my own life shows my weakness, shows my inadequacy. I’ve been thinking lately that maybe that was the shooter’s plan all along. To show that I’m not a capable leader, that I’m not ready to be the Alpha, that I’m selfish and inexperienced.

The more I evaluate that night and run it through my mind frame by frame, I realize it was probably the mate bond that made me run. I came straight to Dylan’s doorstep when her home is miles away from mine and I passed a neighborhood’s worth of houses before getting to hers. I actually spoke with my grandmother about it. She is one of the wisest people I know and her knowledge about mate bonds is infinite. She told me that because my life was in immediate danger from the silver that my wolf instinctually sought out his mate. She assured me that because I’m an Alpha my wolf couldn’t fathom the thought of leaving the earth without at least seeing his one true love. It was romantic in a strange way but it didn’t make me feel any better. Now not only am I a lying, weak, selfish piece of shit, my wolf is a fucking hopeless romantic too.

I finally look up into Dylan’s hazel eyes and I can’t stop the small smile that forms. She looks so worried about me and I realize I zoned out after I told her that, she’s probably been calling my name this entire time.

“Stop smiling and answer me,” she snaps, sitting up on her knees with her hand on her hip.

She’s going to be one hell of a mother. She has that whole reprimanding attitude thing down.

I sit up and turn to her, a subtle reminder of who the bigger person in the room is. She shrinks back slightly and sits back on her knees. I look into her eyes and see the fear she holds within them. She probably thinks I’m going to hurt myself.

I shake my head and decide to get her mind off of my moment of weakness, “Do you want to go out Saturday night?” I’ve been aching to ask her out on a proper date.

There are three prominent emotions that flash across her face so quickly had I not been paying such close attention to her I would’ve missed them. First there was elation, next confusion, and finally annoyance, each emotion aside from the first confusing the fuck out of me.

“Did you seriously just do that?” she asks with an attitude, sitting up on those knees of hers again.

I raise an eyebrow at her and give her my signature smirk, “Do what?”

She rolls her eyes and in a huff leaves the bed.

“So that’s a yes then?”

She growls and slams the bathroom door behind her making me laugh.

Dylan

This man will most definitely be the death of me. How can you go from one minute saying something so saddening and downright heartbreaking to smirking and asking me on a date the next? Whiplash party of one, your table’s ready. Seriously. The idea of him being okay with being dead makes me want to puke and he just glosses over it like he never said it. Not to mention he went totally absent on me for like ten minutes! I go through my normal morning routine and come out of the bathroom ready to go to work. As I figured, Dean has breakfast made for me with a cup of coffee sitting beside it on the table.

“You never told me why you were up so early,” he says as he sits down across from me with a plate of his own.

I look at him from behind the safety of my coffee mug. The warm liquid slides down my throat and I can feel it slowly bringing my body to life. I savor the taste which he surprisingly got perfect, lots of sugar and lots of cream. I let it wash down the snarky comment I would’ve immediately given him and through the rejuvenation I feel from the energy it gives me I provide him with a slightly less snarky response.

“Thank you for all of this,” I state calmly, “But if you aren’t going to tell me why you said that borderline suicidal shit in there then I won’t be speaking with you about anything. And I for damn sure won’t be telling you why I was awake.”

I fork a few pieces of egg and stuff them into my mouth wanting to moan at the flavor but I won't give him the satisfaction. I love breakfast foods especially eggs and Dean is the freaking best at making eggs.

I can feel his eyes on me but ignore him and we finish eating in silence. I want so badly to speak to him since I have to leave for work soon but I’m a woman of my word. I've let him have his secrets up until now but when he lets one slip out he has to know I’m going to want an explanation.

After another fifteen minutes of silence between us I’ve washed the dishes, made my bed and straightened my bathroom. I’m grabbing my lunch and purse when he grabs my hand. Goosebumps instantly shoot up my arm, that’s been happening a lot lately and I hate it.

“Look…I…” he begins but stops abruptly, biting his lower lip. He truly looks lost for words. I can tell he’s not a man used to explaining himself. “I’m not suicidal.”

I look at him and raise my eyebrow. I know he better give me more than that.

He sighs and runs his hands through his hair stopping to tug it slightly. The action is so quick had I blinked I would’ve missed it. I feel my nipples harden at the sight and I mentally reprimand myself. Not the time Dylan.

“I can’t tell you everything now Rose. I want to…but I can’t. I just had a moment where I took a look at my own mortality. I’m not suicidal. I’ve got a very pretty girl with hazel eyes I want to continue to get to know.”

That cocky ass grin of his get to me, not to mention his sweet words. I sigh and start to walk to the door with him still holding my hand. At this point he’s intertwined our fingers and is holding onto my hand tightly. We step outside and I lock the place up before turning to him.

“Fine,” I say, finally deciding to end my silent treatment, “You’re entitled to your secrets Dean, we did just meet. I just want to know you’re safe.”

Saying the words out loud surprises me but most of all it scares me. It’s one thing to feel that way but to realize it and say it out loud is a horse of a different color.

He looks amused by my admission, making me regret saying anything at all and I think he sees it on my face because he quickly tries to recover the situation.

“I’m glad you care about me Dylan, I really am,” he says, looking into my eyes and I can tell he speaks the truth. “So about that date…”

I grin as we walk to my car. He opens my door and I get in but he holds on to the door so I can’t close it without answering him. I try to pull the door closed anyway but he holds it firm, that smirk of his plastered on his beautiful lips.

I sigh dramatically, “I guess I’ll go out with you. Since I’m what you have to live for and all.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “Hardy har har. Watch out folks we’ve got a comedian out here!” he yells as if the neighbors actually wanted to know.

“Would you shut it people are still sleeping,” I whisper, playfully swatting at him. As if me whispering now is going to take away his previous outburst.

He laughs heartily and shakes his head, "I’ll be here at six, dress casually.” He closes my door and walks away effortlessly to a silver BMW.

He thinks he’s so damned smooth but I can’t help the butterflies that take off in my stomach at the thought of a real date with him. As I watch him pull off the thought dawns on me that not once since I’ve seen him off these past visits has he left in the same car. I shake my head at the thought. He’s definitely hiding something.

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AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Thank you guys SO much for the reads. I gained a “fan” but they deleted their account :( However the reads have been great! I’m happy people are enjoying the story so far and hopefully the “fans” and votes and reads will continue to grow! The school semester is coming to a close and I should be able to update more. If you guys like what you see so far please follow me! I promise not to disappoint :) Anyways I’ll probably update again tonight or soon! Thanks again for reading!