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Should have known this would happen.
Should have fucking known.
Wait. Even worse. I did know. I had a feeling something terrible was going to happen the next time I shifted and blacked out. Telling myself I hadn’t planned on it doesn’t make me feel any better. It’s not going to bring that girl back to life. Nothing can do that.
I sit up in bed, hugging the covers to my naked chest.
Cheryl watches me with her big dark eyes. She looks sad and feels guilty.
Her lips are still naked, and she’s wearing one of Everett’s shirts.
“Hey,” I finally manage. “You’re supposed to be wearing red.”
The shirt is black. Fitting for a funeral. The color, I mean. Not the style. It’s much too casual, and it’s not really acceptable to show that much leg at those things, is it?
She looks down and gives me a sad little twitch of a smile.
“I’ll wear whatever you want if you’ll show me what to put on.”
Nice try. I’m not going to be enticed out of bed that easily.
“Why don’t you put on a fashion show instead?” I suggest, though it’s an idle thought.
I’m trying to be normal, but I don’t know how to be when it feels like nothing’s going to be the same ever again. I’ve got a dark cloud over my head today. Nothing’s going to make it go away.
She moves to the closet and pulls the doors open. Strips out of Everett’s shirt and stands there naked, her back to me, hands on her hips as she looks at the clothes hanging on the rails inside.
This woman would do anything for me.
She’s so much more than I deserve.
More than anyone deserves.
She believes in me, and she loves me. Even when I’m like this.
I killed someone, and she’ll protect me even if kills her.
Fuck. This is fucked up.
She turns to me. “I don’t think I own enough red clothes.”
She motions to rail after rail of black, dark blue and purple dresses.
“Wear a purple one,” I tell her, knowing it’ll please Noah.
That’s who she needs to think about now. I’ll be gone soon.
“Oscar…”
“Go shower and change. I’ll do the same after you’ve picked out my clothes for me.”
She gives me a worried look, and she calls in our Beta before she steps into the adjoining bathroom, because, clearly, I can’t be trusted to be left alone right now.
I’m not sure what they think I’m going to do. I know I can’t run from this.
All I can do is wait.
Noah leans against the dresser, his gaze cautious. We haven’t always gotten along, but he’s been like a brother to me. Instead of our usual asinine bickering, we wait for Cheryl in awkward silence.
