Chapter 9 - Kyle

The next morning, I feel like a man who’s been to hell and back, and it doesn’t help to know that it’s the literal truth.

I make coffee while I wait for Leslie to wake up, wondering what I should tell her. The details of the nightmare are pretty fuzzy, but I know what it would have been about.

I can’t hold back a shiver as I think about the things I witnessed while I was undercover with the Sawpit Pack. They are savage beasts, there is no mistaking that. I spent a lot of time in rough areas while I was growing up, but these guys are next-level.

Beyond that, in much older memories, there is a kind of pain that I can’t begin to fathom. Even though I’m sitting safely in my kitchen with my hands wrapped around a hot cup of coffee, I feel terrified and exposed.

There are things lurking in my past that no one should know. Especially Leslie.

I hear her footsteps in the hall, and I look up, trying to arrange my face into a welcoming smile. The frown she gives me as she walks through the door makes me doubt that I pulled it off.

“Good morning,” she says softly.

“Good morning,” I answer. “I made coffee.”

“Thanks.”

The silence that falls then is beyond awkward. I struggle to find something to say that will put last night’s events aside without me actually having to explain anything.

“Are we leaving soon?” she asks, sitting down with her coffee. Relief floods through me, a powerful wave of tingling warmth.

She doesn’t want to talk about it, either.

“Yes, in a few minutes. You’re ready to go?”

She nods, not saying anything. She’s wearing a nice pair of fitted dark slacks, a pretty silver blouse, and a black jacket. While I go and help Bae at the sporting goods store, she wants to look around for work. I told her she doesn’t have to, but I won’t stop her if it’s what she wants to do.

Even though we only sit together for a few minutes, it feels like hours of awkward silence, and the pressure tires me out. Leslie looks calm and relaxed, as if last night barely fazed her at all. I’m grateful for it. I don’t want my trauma impacting her in any way.

The only way to protect her from the darkness inside me is to keep her far away from it. Sharing it with her to ease my own burden would be selfish beyond belief.

When we head out to the truck, I distract myself with the basics of pulling out onto the street, but as the silence between us deepens, I get so anxious that I have to break it somehow.

“What kind of work will you be looking for?” I ask, trying desperately to have a normal conversation.

As if I have any idea what “normal” actually is.

“I’ll just ask around at cafés and stuff for now,” she answers. “Do something like what I did at Gladys’s diner. The girls told me I might be able to support myself as a dressmaker, though.”

“What, really?” I ask, surprised.

“Yeah,” she answers, laughing softly. “I made my wedding dress, as well as this jacket. It’s hard to find clothes that fit me well.”

“That’s amazing!” I say, meaning it. “Anything you want to do, I support you completely.”

“Thank you, Kyle,” she says softly.

The conversation kind of dies after that, and after I park behind Bae’s store, she heads off into town, looking confident and calm. As I watch her walk away, I feel my own anxiety rising again.

I know it’s because she’s my lucky charm and around her, I feel safe. But I’m also stressing out because when she’s out of my sight, anything could happen to her.

Some people say this kind of anxiety is unnecessary—a kind of hypervigilance that is unfounded because the world is safe. Those people are fools. The world is dangerous, and anything can happen at any time.

After a day of working in Bae’s store, I meet up with Leslie to head home. She got a casual job at the ice cream parlor that she’s happy with, even if it’s not going to be her permanent job.

A few days go by, and it gets more and more difficult for me to let Leslie out of my sight. Even when her parents have her car brought over from Silverton, I insist on driving her to and from work.

“Kyle, is this really necessary?” she asks, sighing as she gets into my truck one morning. “I’m perfectly capable of driving myself, or meeting up with the girls and getting a lift.”

“I just prefer it this way,” I answer, focusing on pulling out of the driveway so I don’t have to look at her. “I can manage.”

“But I’m supposed to be doing this myself,” she protests. “It’s about my independence.”

“And I want you to feel independent,” I agree. “But I also want you to be safe.”

“Why wouldn’t I be safe?” she asks, a bit exasperated.

I don’t answer, I just glare at the road. I’ve been back in Silver Meadows for over a month now, and I still haven’t adjusted. Living with the Sawpit Pack, I was always on alert, in a permanent state of stress. Fights broke out daily, even between friends. Theft and destruction of property occurred often, and when we went out to hunt, it was every wolf for himself.

“Is Silver Meadows dangerous?” Leslie asks softly.

“No,” I answer automatically. “But there’s always a threat to the pack’s safety.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, sounding alarmed.

I realize that I’ve stepped in it and I better pull myself out fast. “Just the normal things,” I say, making an effort to sound reassuring. “The packs in this area compete for resources, just as the towns themselves compete for tourism trade. It’s not a big deal, but we are always checking things out, just in case.”

Leslie stares at me as if she’s not convinced, but she doesn’t press the issue any further. Luckily, we’ve arrived in town, so I can safely keep my secrets a bit longer.

Leslie goes off to work, and I help Bae out for a few hours. At lunch, we go to meet Jack, Seth, and Carson behind Shelley’s.

“Thanks for coming in on short notice,” Bae says to the others. “I had a text from Kelta early this morning, so I needed to call an emergency meeting.”

“What’s this about?” I ask warily. I hadn’t been aware there was official pack business today.

“It’s the Sawpit Pack,” Bae says, sitting down. “They’ve moved territory again.”

I feel a horrible, deep chill in my bones. Fear rises in me, and it sends my wolf into a snarling frenzy of defensive rage.

I try to stay calm, wondering if the tempest in my soul is visible to the others.

“What’s the news?” Jack asks.

“They’ve pulled out of the territory to the south,” Bae says. “The space around Mount Wilson near Ophir.”

“That’s good news,” Carson says. “If they kept pushing there, they would be heading towards Silverton. We’d have to go to war against them to protect our allies.”

“Yes,” Bae agrees, nodding. “But as things are, they have pressed north past Norwood towards Orchard City.”

There is a murmur around the table as everyone takes this in.

“What is happening with our partners in Lake City?” Seth asks. “Are they worried?”

“A little, yeah,” Bae answers. “The Sawpit Pack is pretty big, and it looks like they are sick of living off our crumbs.”

With every word, my anxiety rises another notch. It’s entirely possible that the Sawpit Pack knows I’m still alive. If they’ve been watching Silver Meadows from a distance, scouting territory from Ophir all the way to Orchard City, they might be onto me.

And what would they do to me if they found out I betrayed them?

I can’t hold back a shudder. I saw firsthand what they do to traitors. It’s not something I want to think about.

“Kyle,” Bae says, breaking through my thoughts. “Do you have any idea about their motives?”

I shake my head. “They are driven by lack of resources, as I said. For quite a few generations, the pack was small, only a couple of families. Over the last ten years, there was an explosion of numbers. I think the old alpha—the one you killed—started taking in outcasts from other packs. It changed the dynamics of the pack considerably, and I think some of the older families might have been killed.”

“Jesus,” Seth mutters.

“I know,” I say, nodding slowly. “They are bad news, all of them. When they make a run—either to get resources or to take territory—it starts off as a necessary action, but once they get going, they murder and destroy everything they see. It always gets out of hand.”

“Yes,” Bae says. “I remember.”

“What did Kelta say, exactly?” Jack asks.

“Only that they had moved out of the south territory and gathered near Orchard City. I believe they are just lightly pillaging on the outskirts, but haven’t made an impact on the city itself yet.”

“They want a regular income stream,” I say. “The new alpha—Jethro—he’s trying to set up a supply run of goods he can move, sell, and steal. Black market type stuff.”

“Like Pete,” Jack mutters. Bae nods.

“We’ll keep an eye on it,” Bae says. “It’s not our business if they start tearing up Orchard City—we have no ties there. If they move towards Lake City, or Silverton, then we’re on high alert.”

“Unless they start dirty dealing, and their goods have to come through Silver Meadows,” I say softly.

Bae looks at me and nods, the tense look on his face showing me he’s already thought of this. He’s worried, too.

The meeting breaks up. I find Leslie and take her back to the truck so we can head home. Not long after we hit the road, she sighs and shakes her head.

“I just can’t do this anymore, Kyle.”

“What?” I ask, alarmed.

“This nursemaid bit where you drive me everywhere. I’m used to looking after myself.”

“That’s exactly why I should be helping you out,” I answer, but she shakes her head.

“Look, I know we talked about it this morning, and I was prepared to let it go. But it just bugged me so much throughout the day, I knew I couldn’t leave it alone.”

Instead of protesting like I want to, I keep quiet and let her talk.

“I need independence, freedom. I can’t stay harnessed to you constantly. I’m just… used to doing things on my own, and I don’t feel good at all with the way things are.”

Even though I’m trying to be reasonable, my fear is churning my guts into frothing rage. I can’t believe she’s asking me this right after I find out that the Sawpit Pack is on the move.

“I just want you to be safe,” I snap, not looking at her. “The only way I can ensure that is to be with you as often as possible.”

“I think I’m pretty good at keeping myself safe,” she snaps back. “Since I’ve just done it all by myself for over a year!”

All my arguments fall flat. I have no words to say against this, and I sure as hell don’t want to bring up the last year. I’d love to explain, to be completely open with her, but I would only be putting her in danger.

A sigh eases out of me, but it does nothing to settle the tension in me.

“Okay,” I agree reluctantly. “I understand. I’m sorry I snapped just now, and I’m sorry for being overprotective. I didn’t mean to hurt you, and I’ll do everything I can to make it up to you.”

“Thank you, Kyle,” she murmurs. “That means a lot.”

“I just want to be worthy of you,” I say very softly. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Leslie doesn’t answer, but when I glance over at her, the smile on her face is so bright that it seems to make her glow. She looks like a perfect angel. A sweet girl who deserves only love and safety.

And no darkness.

I have to protect that light. It is the only thing that matters to me. And to do it, I have to hide my past.