Chapter 16: Mazie

16

MAZIE

E yelids fluttering open, I was greeted by the soft glow of twilight filtering through gauzy curtains that weren't familiar. The events from earlier that day hit me like a ton of bricks. I'd left Ajax and the pack. The reality of everything threatened to sweep me away in a wave of hopelessness. I didn't want to slip back into my old life. That would have been akin to attempting to wear a dress that was two sizes too small. I wasn't that girl anymore. Yet, the only person I could think to run to was the one who had been kind to me.

I was in Mrs. Thompson's house, lying on a plush couch after a long nap. My body ached with bone-deep fatigue, the kind you get from doing too many squats in the gym. But it wasn't just my body; my spirit was battered, too. Looking out her front window, I could see my little cottage next door. Two children were playing in the fall leaves, their cheeks pink from the chilly air and their laughter ringing in the breeze.

"Did you rest well, dear?" Mrs. Thompson's voice sliced through my thoughts, sharp as the winter chill outside. She stood in the doorway, her anxious gray eyes surveying me with an unreadable expression .

"Fitful," I admitted, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from my hazel eyes. The world sharpened into focus, along with the reality of my situation. "Thank you for letting me stay tonight, Mrs. Thompson. I promise I'll have something arranged for tomorrow."

"Never you mind that." Her tone was kind, her expression concerned, as she smoothed her silver hair back into its tight bun. "But we need to think about your next steps. Are you certain you aren't in any trouble? I was so worried when I saw you were missing on the news. I felt terrible knowing that you hadn't been checking your mail. I should have gone to them right away, dear. I'm so sorry."

"Oh, no! Mrs. Thompson, I never expected you to go to the police. Honestly, I got into a minor accident," I admitted.

She quickly looked outside the window where my car was in the drive.

"It's been repaired," I added hurriedly. "I was staying with some people while I recovered and then… well, I didn't want to leave. I can see now how difficult it must have been to have a stranger in the way."

Mrs. Thompson walked over to the couch and sat beside me. She cupped my cheek with a weathered hand and wiped away a tear with her thumb. "Mazie, you've always had an air of fragility about you. I used to worry about you living alone in that house daily. I only saw you leave to get groceries or go to your therapy appointment. I suppose when you didn't come home. I thought you'd finally found your wings and blossomed."

More tears ran down my cheeks as she embraced me tightly. It felt good to be held by someone who had known me when I was so broken and still cared about me.

"But child, despite the heartache leaking from your eyes," she teased, and I laughed through my tears. You've changed. You aren't the same person who left all those weeks ago. You've an inner light that shines so brightly that it nearly takes my breath away. Don't allow whatever happened to change who you've become. No matter what you decide, you have a place here with me."

I blew out a deep breath, feeling the weight of those words. I had thought I'd been all alone in the world. But the truth was, Mrs. Thompson had always been there. I just hadn't let her in. How many others had tried to get to know me, and I'd inadvertently shut them out? I'd been so wrapped up in myself that I'd forgotten about anybody else. It was a pivotal moment that I'd never forget.

"Thank you, Mrs. Thompson," I said, wiping the rest of my tears away. "You have always been there, and I want to be there for you, too."

It was time to figure out what the following steps would be. It meant facing the world again, piecing together the shards of my fractured existence.

"Oh! I meant to tell you," Mrs. Thompson exclaimed with a rueful smile. My memory isn't what it used to be. Anyhow, I remembered seeing your therapist on the news, Dr. Baker. I hope you don't mind. I called her office and spoke to her. She's so thankful you are safe, dear."

My stomach clenched. The thought of speaking to Dr. Baker again had me feeling nauseated. She'd belittled my ability to think and act for myself. However, Mrs. Thompson could not have known that. She had watched me go to Dr. Baker's office for years.

"That was kind of you to reach out, " I muttered, the memory of Dr. Baker's stern face clouding my mind.

"Perhaps she can help you." Mrs. Thompson's apprehension fell away. I've given her a ring, and she said she would come by the house—free of charge. I wasn't sure where things stood for you financially. Wasn't that kind of her?"

"Oh," my voice hitched with sudden worry. Clearly, reaching out to Dr. Baker set off alarm bells in my head. The thought of seeing the woman escalated those alarm bells into tornado sirens. "Very kind. I have to run an errand, but I will be back."

I hurriedly started to clean up the blankets and straighten the pillows on the couch. All I knew was that I couldn't stay here. My umbra, sensing my unease, threatened to come out. I fought my claws from extending. This response was new to me. The last thing I wanted was to shift in front of Mrs. Thompson.

"Are you quite sure, Mazie?" Mrs. Thompson's brow furrowed. It would be best to have all the support you can get right now. Oh, never mind; she's pulling into the drive.

The doorbell chime sent a tremor through my already jittery frame. Mrs. Thompson glanced at me with a look that mixed reassurance with concern as we both made our way to the front door. There, framed in the morning light, stood Dr. Baker, her posture exuding a controlled calm that somehow managed to slice through the chaos of my thoughts.

"Hello, Mazie," she greeted, her voice a smooth balm. "It's nice to see you in person. I understand you've been through quite an ordeal."

"Hi," I replied, my voice a pale echo. The vulnerability gnawed at my insides like a starved animal, desperate and raw.

"If you would like, I've arranged for you to stay at a hotel for a few nights. It will give you some time to get back on your feet."

"She's welcome to stay here," Mrs. Thompson interjected.

"That won't be necessary." Dr. Baker brushed her off like a gnat. "Let's go somewhere private. We can talk about everything," she suggested, reaching out a hand that seemed to promise safety.

"Thank you," I whispered to Mrs. Thompson before she again hugged me. Afterward, we packed my suitcase, and I placed it in the trunk of my car.

"Before you check in, Mazie, let's go for a drive and talk about your adventure," Dr. Baker suggested. I didn't want to be alone with her. Yet, I had spent hours upon hours with this woman, telling her my deepest, darkest secrets. Maybe she could shed some insight into the disturbing text messages I'd received. I just had to protect the pack.

The drive was quiet, Dr. Baker's car humming along roads shaded by towering pines. My gaze wandered outside, but my mind was caged in its darkness, clawing for a sliver of hope.

"Everything will be alright, Mazie. You're not alone," Dr. Baker said, casting me a reassuring glance.

Her words should have comforted me. Instead, they snagged on the barbed wire of my skepticism. But the loneliness clutched at my chest with icy fingers, willing me to grasp any semblance of connection, even if it was as fragile as a spider's web.

I was lost in thought and didn't notice when she avoided the freeway entrance to downtown, where her office was. I'd closed my eyes, attempting to get some sleep on the thirty-minute commute to her office. Instead, I'd fallen asleep. I was awakened by the car coming to a halt and turning off.

The dark of night was the first sign of something awry. The second was the forest surrounding us. We were in a secluded location that I didn't recognize. Dr. Baker's demeanor shifted subtly—a predator masked by a caretaker's smile. "We're here," she announced, grabbing her bag and exiting the car. "Come along, Mazie."

I got out of the car and took a deep breath, letting the smell of the earth fill my senses. My umbra was already itching to shift and find our mate. Fighting her back, I turned to Dr. Baker. "What is this place?" I began, only to be cut off by her soothing tone.

"Somewhere safe. For people like you." Her words were coated in honey, yet they buzzed with an undercurrent I couldn't catch. She'd come up beside me and touched the small of my back. "Don't be shy now, Mazie. We've work to do."

Turning to ask a question, my voice froze in my throat as I felt the sudden prick of a needle. My head whipped around to see Dr. Baker retracting a syringe, her eyes no longer warm but cold and calculating.

"Wha—?" I stammered, shock rooting me to the spot.

"Shh, it's for your own good," she soothed, her voice warped by the drug coursing through my veins.

Panic surged, a primal scream from deep within, but my body wouldn't obey. My legs buckled as darkness crept into the edges of my vision, swallowing me whole. I could hear my heart thudding, a distant drumbeat fading fast.

"Trust is a dangerous game," I wanted to say, shout, roar. But the world slipped away before the words could escape, leaving only silence and the black void of unconsciousness .

A groan clawed out of my throat as I blinked against the harsh light, the aftertaste of betrayal bitter on my tongue. It reeked of damp earth and fear wherever Dr. Baker had taken me. I pushed myself up, each movement sluggish, fighting through the fog in my mind.