Chapter 58: Chapter 58
Heather
In the hall I found my favorite person, Callista, looking through my locker. Half its contents littered the hallway.
I lunged over to her. "What the hell is your problem?"
"You go through my stuff. I go through yours." Callista flicked one of my textbooks down the hall.
Okay. She had a point, but the girl was making a mess. "Can I help you find something?"
"Sure, bruja." The metal clanged as she slammed it closed. "Where’s the gris-gris?"
"The what?" I didn’t need this. Not from her. Not when my wolf was so close to the surface.
"You know—the voodoo charm. The spell. Whatever the fuck it is that you did to him." Callista took a step toward me and crossed her arms. "I want it. Like yesterday."
Was she serious? "I don’t have whatever it is that you’re talking about. I didn’t do anything to anyone." I managed to get out the words through teeth that suddenly felt too sharp.
"There is no way he’d lose control like that without you doing something to make him lose it." She moved closer. "No way he’d leave me. Especially not for some half-human half-witch loser."
"It seemed to me that you two are still pretty damned cozy. So fine. You win. I’m not about to fight for some cheating asshole. He’s all yours. But you need to stay away from me."
She took another step. I didn’t move back. I let her come.
"If only it were that easy."
A frustrated laugh broke free. "You’re crazier than I thought."
She shoved my shoulder until my back knocked into the lockers. "Give it to me."
I didn’t like her touching me. And I sure as shit didn’t like the way she had me cornered. "I don’t have anything to give you. So get your hand. Off. Me."
She snarled and pushed me again.
My tenuous control shattered. Heat burned my skin and my teeth lengthened, nipping my lip. "Get your hand off me."
She moved her hand. Faster than I could track, her fist slammed into my face. My head whipped back, cracking against the lockers. I was too angry to feel any pain.
A door squeaked open.
"Heather. Callista. Stop fighting right now!"
I growled at Mrs. Ramirez. She looked at the ground and stepped back. Mrs. Ramirez whispered to someone to find Brent or Mr. Langdon, but all my focus was on Callista.
The next punch hit my stomach, and the air whooshed out of me. She hit my face again, and I tasted blood.
My wolf growled. A red haze narrowed my vision until all I saw was Callista. My arms rippled as fur covered them. I launched myself across the hallway, throwing Callista against the lockers. The part of me awakening was scary, but I was done being polite.
I punched and her nose crunched in response. I wrapped my arms and legs around her and twisted. We landed on the ground with me sitting on top of her hips.
"Stop. Moving. Now." I put a little power behind the words and she quit struggling. I didn’t let go. I wouldn’t be tricked twice. I sat up on top of her torso so she couldn’t move, and put my hand on her chest to keep her still.
My anger blossomed as I stared down at her. My gloves ripped along the tips as my fingers lengthened and nails grew until it looked like something in between hand and claw. I was torn between what the wolf wanted—to end a rival for good, and what I wanted—to maintain some semblance of my sanity.
Callista struggled under me. If she started to fight me again, I didn’t know what my wolf would do, and that scared me. My nails drew blood as they touched the soft part of her neck. If I relaxed my hand at all, they would tear right through her flesh.
"Once I tell Brent what a freak you are, he won’t want anything to do with you. Look at your arm, caught between forms. It’s disgusting."
Her comment pushed me over the edge. I growled and let my nails penetrate her neck.
"Heather!" Brent sprinted down the hall. "Merde." He dropped down on the floor next to us. "Heather. Let her go." He pulled off his shirt and balled it up. "We’ve got to stop the bleeding.
"
He picked her over me. That thought had the wolf whimpering.
He put the wadded up shirt next to my hand and looked me in the eyes. "Let her go. Now."
Shock pulled me free of the last twinges of anger. All that was left was normal Heather. Blood stained the front of Callista’s shirt. Her eyes rolled back in her head.
Bile rose in my throat.
Oh my God. I’d never gotten in a fight. Until martial arts class, I’d never hit anyone. Never even pushed anyone. I could have killed her. I crawled backwards until I hit the opposite wall of lockers and pulled off my stained and shredded gloves. Each classroom door was open with the teachers guarding it.
Why hadn’t they stopped me?
"I need some help," Brent said. His hand was wet with blood as he put pressure on the wound.
The teachers finally moved into action. Mrs. Ramirez reached them first. "Adrian, go grab Mr. Langdon and Dr. Gonzales. Hurry."
People poured out of the rooms, crowding the hallway. I couldn’t stand them staring at me. I did the only thing I could think of, I ran.
It was cowardly, but I’d hit my limit. Brent called for me to stop. To wait for him. But I didn’t look back. He’d shown me time and again with his actions what he really wanted. Who he wanted. If he cared about me, he wouldn’t have run away all those times. He wouldn’t have been able to.
I flew out the front entryway of the school and followed the road to the main highway. I moved faster than I ever had before, my lungs barely registering the strain.
A sign led to town. I moved on autopilot, not caring where I went.
I slowly started to see familiar markers. And then I just ran faster.
I didn’t stop until I got to the yellow house with the big tree in front. "Mom!" I raced up the porch steps and banged on the door. "Mom!"
Her feet clattered on the stairs as she ran to the door. "Oh my God, Heather. What happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
I looked down to see my shirt and my arm splattered with blood. "I don’t know."
She pulled me inside. "Where’s your other flip-flop?"
My left foot was cut up and bloody from running. Somewhere along the way, I’d lost one. "I don’t know."
"Okay. Wait right here. I’ll get the first aid kit."
I dropped the flip-flop by the door and went into the kitchen. I grabbed milk out of the fridge and the Oreos from on top of the freezer. I’d just burned some major calories and couldn’t let my wolf get antsy from hunger while I was with Mom. I shoved two Oreos in my mouth and chewed quickly.
God. How had the day gone so wrong? I wasn’t a violent person. I didn’t attack people.
I hoped they weren’t kidding when they said we healed fast, but since I was kind of a werewolf—I wasn’t sure if she’d be okay. I didn’t like Callista, but I hadn’t meant to hurt her.
Mom dug through drawers upstairs, and then water turned on, drowning out all the other sounds. She was a clean freak, probably washing her hands. I hopped up onto the kitchen counter to wait.
She came back carrying the first aid bin and a clean shirt of mine.
We sat quietly as she cleaned my foot. I winced as she pulled out some gravel and poured peroxide over it. It bubbled white as it killed germs. I pulled on the fresh shirt as she worked.
She ripped open a bandage and then put it down. "Umm. The cuts have all healed."
I grabbed my foot. She was right. Once the bits of gravel were gone, my feet healed completely. Not even a scar marred them. "Thanks, Mom."
She moved away from me to throw away the dirty cotton balls. "You want to talk about what happened?"
"I hurt someone." Tears streaked down my face. "I’m completely lost, Mom. I don’t know what to do."
"Heather—"
"Brent...he...I can’t...And I can’t control my feelings. One minute, I’m fine. The next I’m nearly ripping some girl’s head off." I covered my face with my hands.
"Heather!"
"I’m not joking. I could have killed Callista. I’m a monster."
"Heather Jones." She squeezed my knee. "I don’t care what happened. You’re no monster."
I wanted to believe her. I wiped my hands down my face. "You don’t know that. Not anymore."
"I do too. I’m the one who carried you for nine months. Who has taken care of you for the past seventeen—almost eighteen—years. I know my daughter. I don’t care what happened—you’re no monster. It makes me so mad that you’d think that. After all you’ve been through. You’re still the same girl."
She was muttering under her breath about having a chat with Mr. Langdon when the doorbell rang.
I jolted down off the counter. "Who’s that?"
She held up her hands. "I’m sorry, baby. I had to call them."
"You didn’t." My own mother turned me in? That was so messed up.
I peeked around the corner to the front door. Through the window I could see Mr. Langdon and Brent.
I flew out the back door, slamming it shut behind me. I didn’t have long to escape and I will make the most out of the few seconds I have.
