Something is telling me that’s not the way I go out though, not how I’m supposed to leave this world, just like something is telling me this is exactly where I’m supposed to be right now.
Which is why I grab my wallet and keys, push open the driver door, then lock the truck up like it’s Fort Knox before shuffling my way across the street to the blue door of the shelter. There’s a spotlight lighting everything up, a clear sign that they’re taking new intakes.
Bet they’ll wish they had a no vacancy sign up instead once they get a load of me.
Or maybe they can direct me to the nearest funeral home instead.
I do not want to fucking be here.
It takes everything in me to knock on the door, but I do it because I know my mates would want me to. They’re looking down at me, wherever they are if they’re anywhere at all, wanting me to keep going. That’s the only reason I’m even here.
They made sure I survived, and I’m going to keep doing that for as long as I can because of them.
The street is quiet, not a single car passes by as I stand here, and there’s only the sound of a light breeze to keep me company. One that could easily knock me over from all the blood loss and trauma. I’m seconds away from dropping to my knees when the door finally creaks open.
“I was in the back when you knocked…” A woman with blonde hair piled in a top knot stares at me for a long secondbefore she opens the door wide without any fanfare. Thank fuck she doesn’t. I’m so grateful for it, I honestly don’t think I’d be able to handle someoneoohingandahhingover me. Especially since it would be the morbid kind of gawking and nothing else.
I’m definitely the human equivalent of a car crash right now.
“I’m Aurelia, and we are going to do the world’s fastest intake,” she says, ushering me inside before she helps me sit down. She bites her lip as she picks up her phone, looking at me for a beat before she takes a breath. “I’m going to send a text to someone. It’s not the police, it’s to our on-call nurse. I want her to take a look at you. Is that okay? A nod or head shake is totally okay.”
I didn’t even think about anyone calling the police. I suppose I do look like a victim of a murder scene, because I am. For all she knows, I could have been the one on a killing spree.
If that were the case, I wouldn’t be here.
Too bad it’s not.
“No hospital,” I rasp, those words taking a lot out of me.
“Absolutely not,” she agrees, her fingers flying over the screen. “You’re really hurt and I want to make sure you make it through the night.”
There’s no apology in her blue eyes, she’s simply telling me how it is. I can appreciate a straight shooter, that’s how I am, too.
Bet she’d shit if I told her I wasn’t worried about making it through anything at all, let alone tonight.
“She says she’ll be here in five minutes. Now, can you tell me your name?”
Aurelia wasn’t kidding about taking minimal information from me, and I can’t help the way my brow raises in question as she produces a tablet out of nowhere and inputs my information as quickly as possible.
Granted, it’s only my first name and a couple brief stats, but still, she’s quick.
“Policy and red tape kills, Olive, and I’m not a murderer.”
My slight nod is all it takes before she continues.
“There are no alphas allowed here unless it’s well known beforehand, and never in the shelter behind me. We offer everything that you’ll need to start over, regardless of your circumstances. If you need legal representation, it’s yours without any questions asked. If you’re hiding from someone, we can help you change your identity. We have a work program, which is a fancy way to say that we offer help in finding a job or assistance in going back to school,” she explains. “I don’t know what you’ve been through, Olive, but it’s obvious that you’ve walked through Hell and are coming out the other side. All of our services are free of charge, including counseling. None of it is mandatory, okay?”
It’s so difficult to do anything other than nod weakly at her but it’s all I’ve got at the moment, and no sooner do I give her one than she’s rushing to the door to answer a knock I definitely didn’t hear.
“Hurry,” Aurelia mutters under her breath, ushering in a woman wearing scrubs.
“I usually offer a private room for this, but I’m not going to move you,” the nurse says. “I’m Laurell Price, and I’m going to clean you up. This means I’m going to need to touch you. Are you ready for that?”
Honestly, I’m not, but her tone is so kind that it has tears burning in my eyes, and a sting of what I can only describe as regret piercing my gut.
This place would have been amazing when I was a kid and I know without a doubt, if I’d have brought my brother with me, we wouldn’t have had to worry about anything ever again.
I wouldn’t have met my pack if that were the case, which also means I wouldn’t be here right now, trying desperately to calm my nerves while a perfect stranger asks to touch me. But meeting those men was the best thing to ever happen to me and I’d do it all over again, gunshot wounds and all, just to have those few years with them.
