Werewolf Compilations

Chapter 94

Maybe I'm an addict. Maybe he's my own personal drug, my own breed of liquor. When I look at him

now, in the front seat, driving, I can't help but think about jerking the wheel and colliding with the

monstrous tree just ahead. It's the call of the void. It's that one split second where the real darkness

within seeps out and takes over. My eyes stare at the wheel, my hand fists my shirt, then I glance off

out the window.

I try to do things that are good for me, sometimes. I convince myself that I'm not going to give in again,

but when you're addicted to something, who knows. Maybe I don't care anymore. Being hurt is familiar,

unlike our moments when he's kind to me. Those moments are more frequent, and I'm worried that I'll

grow used to them. Is it wrong to feel grounded when I'm hurting? I don't know anything else. What if I

don't like being happy?

My mother acts like she understands me when really she thinks I'm pathetic. She doesn't like me deep

down, I know it. It's hard to like me, I think.

I try to do things that are good for me, sometimes, but sometimes I like being this person. I understand

this person. I've grown to accept that this is who I am, so maybe James is good for me either way. If

he's bad, then it will be... Well, that wouldn't be easy. Maybe I'm wrong. I don't think I can take it when

he hurts me. I've learned that. I've felt it before when I was here the first time. I know that.

When I'm with him, I can't be the hurt person or the happy person. That is, if he is this drug, if he is my

own bitter taste. If he's telling the truth, if he's been genuinely trying, then I don't know what to expect. I

don't know how to be happy.

If people are afraid of the unknown, am I afraid of happiness? Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

I said I was going to test him, and I am. There needs to be a lining of caution tape around him at all

times. I practically told my mother that I was going to prove her wrong, but that may be a long journey. I

can't be a strong Luna if I don't trust my Alpha and if I don't feel stable. It's a staircase. Climbing will be

hard, but eventually, I'll get to the top. She'll grab at my feet and pull me down, this comforted-by-

sadness part of me, but I could always try again.

Happiness is a fear I can conquer with him. I just pray he is telling the truth.

He was honest about the green-eyed girl, and that gives me hope, but I know about him and hope. So,

I'll take my time, nice and slow, something sure. James needs to prove himself.

A hand rests on my arm, and I suddenly come in contact with light. My eyes shy away, my fingers

rubbing into them. Once aware, I peer around and realize we're back and that I fell asleep. James

looks down at me. "We're here. I'll grab your things, go on inside."

I nod and slip off my seat, my feet landing abruptly on the hard ground, telling me it is time to move.

When I open the front door and walk through, everything comes back to me in one harsh wave. For a

moment, I doubt if this is a good idea, then I venture on to the kitchen. I hear them, Gail and Theresa.

James wants to keep me from his father. It's simple. There are things I want to keep from him, things I

would lie about to protect. I would never want him to know about my insecurities, the ones that keep

me up at night, the ones that I have a hard time admitting to myself. Eventually, he may find out,

though. That's the problem. Eventually, all secrets a revealed.

Part of me wants to go back home just so these insecurities never reach the surface.

I lean into the kitchen and the two turn. Smiles come to their faces, and I find it relieving. "We knew

you'd be back," Gail says while nearing me. She wraps her arms around me, warming me in a motherly

hug.

"It's so good to see you again, dear," Theresa says.

I sit down with them at the table and chat about things that had happened while I was back home.

Obviously, I don't mention Noah or James' visits, but I do tell them that it was very hard. "I'm glad to be

back," I say. "Things are going to get better between us." If he doesn't lie again.

James steals me away, and I follow him upstairs. The familiar hall, and the haunting doors that sit at

the end taunt me. When we reach the top, I notice James walking towards his bedroom with my things,

and I am quick to stop him. I slip past him and stand in his way. "I'll be staying in my old room," I tell

him bravely.

I do understand his assumptions, though. We did lay together that one night, and he did sleep in my

bed last night.

His free hand loosely grabs mine. "I would like it if you stayed with me, so I know you're not off in the

forest in the middle of the night.

I let my hand drop. "Not yet. Not until I can trust you."

"Then at least promise me you won't leave the house past twelve. I just want to know that you're safe."

I take a breath and compromise, wanting everything to go smoothly. "Okay."