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Rated: 13+ · Draft · Fantasy · #1551876
This is a chapter I'm working on, the scene just popped into my head.
“I want in”, I blurted.  While silently congratulating myself on my eloquent diplomacy, Leon leaned back in his chair and considered me. Openly and unashamed, and then fluently went back to reading his papers. The bastard.

         “The Pack I mean.” Real smooth Kate, if he wants to do things the hard way you can bludgeon him to death with your wit. I was spared a passing glance, with a raised eyebrow to boot. Oh goody was that a smirk? So glad to amuse you your Majesty will my opening position be court jester?  I jumped a little as his gravely voice broke sliced through the air.

         “We’re all out of Brownie positions kid. Try back next year.”
         
         “What?”

         “You’re not Pack material.”

         “What does that mean ‘not Pack material’? I sprout fur for Christ’s sake, I qualify. End of story.”  The only response I got was a turned page.  “So that’s it? I just walk off into the sunset? What if I get into trouble? That’s bad PR for every shifter, but especially you. You answer for every action every shifter has ever made, whether they’re Pack or not. At least here you can keep an eye on me, do damage control if necessary.”

         “Are you trying to blackmail your way into the Pack Ms. Genter?” Shit.

         “No-”

         “Good, because I don’t take well to threats.” He never raised his eyes the entire time. Sonovabitch. Another page turned and the silence grew heavier with each passing second.  He looked up from his work as if surprised that I was still there. “Is there some other matter you wish to address Ms. Genter?” This was the Lord of Beasts now, no Leon left.

         “Why?” I hated myself for the small crack in my voice.

         “We don’t know you.” Ahh the royal We, it was almost endearing. Almost.

         “You know me.”

         “We know what you told us and what can be observed, but that’s not nearly enough. You’re Kate Genter. Maybe 120 pounds soaking wet. 5‘4 give or take half a inch. You have brown hair and brown eyes. Irrational, prideful, quick tempered.” A shrug. “Useful for describing you to the cops when pressing charges, but not enough to join the Pack.”

         My whole body seemed to pulse for a second. “What about the blood I shed Leon? Isn’t that enough? I’ve fought beside you, worked my fingers into dust for you. Stuck my neck out and put my life on the line. All for you! All for the Pack!”

         “No, not for me and not for the Pack. For you Kate, every punch you threw, every wallop you took. All of it was for you. So you could have something to fight for, somewhere to belong. You did it so you could have a purpose, a reason for being. And that’s why you can’t come into the Pack. Because what kind of life did you lead where you have nothing to live for? The furthest back I’ve ever heard you talk about your past was a year ago. I have no idea what the hell you’re running from, and you refuse to tell me. I can’t protect you from something I don’t know exists.”

         “I can hold my own, I’m not asking you to protect me. I’m asking you to let me in the Pack.”

         He shook his head slowly as he said, “That’s what being in the Pack means. Your enemy becomes mine and every other shifter’s out there. We’re one unit, and we live and die by that, and we’re only as strong as our weakest person. What’s your weakness Kate?”

         “I’m not weak”, I grounded out. He didn’t answer but stared at me, it felt as if he knew me better then I knew myself and didn’t need to be told what went on inside me.

         “I’m sorry Kate.” What he said didn’t even register to me until I was halfway down the hallway. I returned to my room and got my backpack. Leon looked genuinely  surprised when I returned as I locked the door and dumped the bag on his desk. My bag. It looked so out of place on top of the deep wood of the mahogany . That bag had seen life and had the scars to prove it, the worn in leather dully shined as if in agreement.

         “That was my mother’s. I don’t know how long she’s had it, but its been around for as far back as I can remember. She gave it to me when I was 16. Said how it loyally served her through all of her adventures and knew it would do no less for her baby girl.” The words sounded mechanical even to me. I met Leon’s eyes for moment and then went digging through the bag. I could feel him patiently sitting there, as if he had all of eternity. I threw the bag on the floor when I found what I looking for. I put the dog-eared picture of a woman laughing as if life could never touch her.  Her hair was slightly disheveled and turned a lighter brown where the light touched it vividly framing her oval face. The golden red undertones of her brown skin was played up by the setting sun and the colors were highlighted in her deep brown eyes. Her full cheeks rose to meet her almond eyes crinkled with joy. Her smile was like a full slice of delight and her chin was frozen with little dimples. I swallowed before saying, “That’s my mother, Faith.”

         “She’s beautiful.” I barely heard him as I put another picture down. There were 3 men standing there, but the olive complected man on the left commanded your attention. His 6 foot frame seemed to tower over the other men even though the one to the far right had him by an inch. His pitch black eyes stared right back at you, and the grim set of his chin suggested a rapidly disappearing patience. His body suggested muscle without bulk, and the way he held himself said he was in perfect control. It probably wasn’t the best picture to show when making a first impression but I didn’t care. I remember how he would toss me in the air, his wavy hair always messy. The way his chuckling would vibrate from his stomach into his arms and then through me. The sound of his heartbeat as he cradled me against his chest and his stubble would scrape against my forehead. It was amazing how in my mind the sensations of noisy kisses and bruising tickle sessions went together perfectly with the stern faced man staring up at Leon.

         “That’s my dad. His name was John. I think you two would’ve gotten along swimmingly.” Leon just smirked in response. I put the third picture down, it was my family sitting on a rickety dock. The bright blue sky contrasted sharply with the bleak grayness of the water. I could taste the brisk autumn air of the beach as if I was there yesterday. I pointed at the little boy beaming at the camera. There was a windburned redness beneath his bronzed beige skin. His eyes were bright and dark like our father’s, framed by long lashes. He was the kind of boy that mothers would coo over and remark how he was as pretty as a girl, and when he grew up would hide their daughters from. I remember how I would squeeze his cheeks and tease him by wishing I was as pretty as he was. I couldn’t help the smile that came on my face as I remembered how his elbows and knees would dig into me as he tackled me to the ground and we wrestled. I didn’t bother trying to hide the longing in my voice when I said, “That was Alan, everybody called him Allie-boy. I called him Allie when I was mad at him.”

         I didn’t notice how long the silence went on as I stared at the faces of my family until Leon said my name. I knew what he was asking even though he would never come out and say it, he wouldn’t push me. He would wait as long as I wanted, but I opened this wound and it was for a damn good reason. I wouldn’t run with my tail tucked between my legs now. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.

         “I was in my room when I heard the truck pull up. I was half sleep so I don’t know how I knew something was wrong. Either way I was at the window staring at a truck parked more on the lawn then the driveway, when I heard my dad run into the house and yell for my mom. By the time I was half-way down the steps my parents were arguing as my dad was throwing coats at my mom and brother. I couldn’t tell what was going on because everytime one would get halfway through a sentence the other would talk over it.”

         “Stop it John, you’re scaring the kids-”
         “Just put the goddamn coats on Faith-”

         “I’m not doing a thing until you tell me what the hell is going-”

         “And get in the truck!”

         I was stayed on the steps and stared at them. I glanced at Alan with his arm through one sleeve, the other half of the coat dragging against the floor. One side of his face was red and rippled from his sheets as he stared up at mom and dad openly confused about what to do. I looked up as my dad turned and started towards the stairs. Our eyes locked then he lifted me like I was 6 and set me down at the bottom, with a little push he started me off towards mama. “Go put your coat on Kit-Kat, we’re going for a little drive ok?”, his voice was sweet and gentle but he was already leaping up the steps with urgency.

         “John-”

         “Faith just do it, please.”  Dad turned around and was gripping the banister with white knuckles and looking at my mom with an emotion I never saw on his face before. Fear. Time stood still for a moment as my mom just gaped at dad, then turned on her heels and kneeled down to put my brother’s coat on for him.

         “Kate go get you and your brother’s boots out of the closet please. Get your coat too, not the yellow one but the brown one with the down feathers.” We heard my dad tearing through my parent’s room upstairs, but didn’t say anything about it. My mom was buttoning her coat when he reappeared in the room, an old cigar box I’ve never seen before tucked under his arm as he loaded bullets into a gun I never knew existed. Alan whimpered as he buried his face in my coat and hugged me. I put my arms around him but watched along with my mother as the man that made me banana pancakes that morning shove the last bullet home. “What is it John?”, my mom sounded like she could hardly breathe.

         “I don’t know. We gotta go babe, I’ll explain in the car.” We were all on the porch when the back door pounded as if somebody was kicking it in. My dad’s face went blank, there was no fear there as he handed the box to my mom and stepped back into the doorway. Holding out the box he said,“Here, its all there. The keys are still in the truck, there’s almost a full tank of gas. Drive as far as you can on it and then catch a bus somewhere. Anywhere you want, but don’t go anywhere near family or friends ok?”

         “No John”, mom’s voice was firm and her jaw was set but her eyes sparkled with tears. She stepped away from the box like it had the plague and balled her hands into fists. The back door was starting to splinter and I could hear the tinkle of glass shattering. Alan was gripping my hand so hard that I couldn’t feel it, but I didn’t care and squeezed back.

         My dad smiled as if he didn’t have a care in the world but I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed as he said, “You don’t bring cash to a gun fight babe. You take the kids and be safe but you keep your heads down ok? Start over but cover your tracks alright?” He didn’t wait for answer as he brought my mom close to him and kissed her. Usually I would look away or tell them to cut it out, but there was something in this kiss that made my throat burn with tears. I don’t know how but my mom was holding that box with a death grip and staring at the floor with tears in her eyes. Suddenly my dad kneeling down in front of me and my brother his voice cracked a little, “You two be good and listen to your mother. And help her out whenever you can, and don’t give her grief. You two are smart and good kids. I love you guys and am so proud of you.” In that moment his face was my world, and it felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest when he stood up and told us to go. The next moment the three of us were staring at the closed front door.

         I looked up at Leon, his hands were folded on the desk and his eyes were studying my face. “Mom did what dad said and packed us all into the car. It was like she was on autopilot, I don’t even think she knew what she was doing really. She had the car all straightened out and was about to drive off when we heard the gun shots. Then it was like something inside her snapped. The next thing I know she was pulling me into the driver’s seat telling me to drive off if she’s not back in 5 minutes. The last time I saw her, she was walking through the door. It was so quiet I don’t even think me or Alan breathed. Then all I could hear were muffled thumps and stuff being knocked over. Then nothing at all. I should’ve drove off then, but the next thing I know Alan is kicking open the door and rushing out. I grabbed him and tried to pull him back, but all I remember is holding his coat and seeing him run off into the house. I guess he wanted to protect Ma, but I was supposed to protect him.”

         “Kate-”, Leon started. I shook my head, steadily blocking any offered comfort. I stabbed my index finger at his picture.

         “When dad died all we heard were the gun shots. I guess he knew that dad wasn’t trying to fight for his survival but ours, so he took him out quick before we could get away. It didn’t last long with mom either, but you could tell she was putting up a fight. Maybe that’s why he didn’t kill her outright, making her pay I guess. But with Alan-” I broke off for a second. “He only got out one scream. Just one but my God, it just kept getting louder and louder and I thought it would never end. It didn’t even sound possible for a human to make a sound like that. And then it was over, just like that. The quiet was so much worse then the scream.”
© Copyright 2009 J.T Moore (peanutter at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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