Streak of Black

For a second, not even I can believe I did that. It didn't feel like me. Sure, the wind felt wonderful rushing against me, but it didn't feel like me. I wouldn't do anything that crazy or suicidal. I could have been killed.

'You wouldn't do that, but I would.' Monique’s voice in my head is unwelcome, and I choose not to argue right now. I don’t bother gracing her with a response.

Meanwhile, I look into the back at my Pack. They're all staring at me like I'm insane. "What?" I demand defensively. Even if that’s nothing that I would ever do, I still hate being judged. I grope for a somewhat believable answer. "If I wouldn't have done something unpredictable, they would’ve shot me for sure. The way that I decided to go, they were caught completely off guard." Because that’s logical.

I sigh and leap over the armrest and into the back of the van, scaring Charlette with the thump that I make. Ryder shakes his head and quickly wraps me in a warm embrace that he refuses to release me from as we zoom quickly away from our assailants.

Rudi speeds up as we hear them get closer based on the increasing volume of their engine. I look up and see my brother’s concerned eyes meet my own.

'Are you okay?' he asks gently in only my mind. I nod curtly and lean into Ryder, closing my eyes. The anxiety in the air is palpable, and everyone can feel it. No one says a word—even Gabrielle is silent as if she can sense the stress in the air.

The uneven roads that wind through forests eventually smooth out into the neat paved streets, and Damien's crew turns around to return home abruptly. Relief settles over the van as some of the tension of the race slips away, and Rudi slows down to cruise calmly down the streets to a bank. Eyulf and Lovett get out of the van, Eyulf to pull money from his abundant supply of cash and Lovett to keep watch—Ryder was supposed to stand guard, but he refuses to leave my side.

When we first started hashing our plan to deal with the "Charlette Situation," we hadn't really worried about money, because we never have to worry about money. However, Nyx and Nox were quick to point out that they had likely been caught because their uncle continued using his credit card and cell phone to take care of them and check up on things with their family in Greece. Eyulf had agreed that anyone with Damien's resources could easily find someone smart enough with the brains to stay quiet and get them to track us using a paper trail to a place that we're practically expected to run to. It was therefore decided that it would probably be safest to deduct the money now and just pay for anything we have to in cash.

The boys return with a wad of cash equaling around $25,000. "Ryder, how much did you say you'll need for your I.D. guy?" Eyulf asks, already leafing through the thick pile. It always amazes me how calm he is with such great sums of money, but I remind myself that he comes from money—it’s normal for him.

"For all of us, fifteen-hundred, $2000." I can tell that thinking about his past hurts, but he knows it's for the best.

"I still say that that's a lot of money," Rudi calls from the front as Eyulf pulls $2000 out of the pile.

"It's a lot of people, and all of his work is completely legitimate in appearance, not like some others who ignore minor flaws. This guy makes it perfect or starts over. Besides, that's the discounted price."

"How do you know you'll get the discount?" Charlette asks uncertainly with a cautious tone.

Ryder leans back and refuses to look at anyone. "Because I have dirt on him, and I scare him."

No one says anything else except Rudi who only asks occasionally for directions. We pull up to a small house with a one-car garage. Ryder didn't want me to come, but I refused to allow him to walk into this alone. He already warned the others not to interfere if they heard fighting. Crisp, early autumn air surrounds us as we get out of the van. Ryder walks with purpose up to the garage door and raps three times, slow but harsh knocks. The door begins to creak up on its hinges to reveal a thin, greasy looking, brown haired boy who stands in the doorway next to the button that opened the garage.

"Ryder," he exclaims, seeming delighted to see him. "I thought you were dead. What a...a pleasant surprise. Your mother will be thrilled. Although I must note that you’re a bit...bigger than I remember. Nevertheless…" He closes the small space between himself and us within seconds and leans in close to me, seeming to want to sniff me. Before I can say or do anything, Ryder places his arm possessively around me and glares at his "friend." The boy pulls back, his eyes the only part of him revealing his terror as he plants a confident, sly grin on his face. He focuses his attention on me while talking, not bothering to even glance at Ryder. "What's wrong, old buddy? Not a fan of 'sharing' anymore? He reaches out to pinch my cheek, but Ryder steps between us and pushes Kain away. Kain backs off but keeps the smug grin on his face. You know how it used to be. I'd get the I.D.s and you'd get the drugs and we'd all go—"

"I'd never share anything with you, scum!" Ryder growls viciously through gritted teeth. I haven't seen a look like that on his face since we met, and it almost scares me.

"Oh, now let's not be so cruel, Ryder—not in the presence of a lady—" the boy reprimands provocatively, trying to stir up a fight and break Ryder's control. I want to smack him for it, but I can't interfere. This is Ryder's fight.

Ryder growls at him, revealing his sparkling white and very sharp teeth, and he leans in closer to the boy. I again find myself struggling to stay put, choosing to do so by looking around. The garage is pretty bare. The floors and walls are made of bland cement, and it's fairly empty. On a dark, cherry-wood desk in the far left corner sits a lap-top and a desktop. Next to that is a very high-tech printer, the main attractions of the room. Along the walls are variously sized brown boxes that are organized by size and numbered labels that mean nothing to me.

The boy now has all of his attention focused on Ryder again, obviously afraid for his life. He still tries to hide it, but we all know that he would bolt if given half a chance. "Temper, my friend," he mutters, struggling to maintain control of the situation.

Ryder takes a step closer, and the boy is smart enough to back away this time. "I'm not here to play games, Kain, so cut the crap. I'll need 11 passports and 10 drivers’ licenses. Tonight."

Kain's fear washes away, and a stern, business-like expression takes its place. "Whoa, man, that kind of order will cost you. Especially if you want all of that tonight—you know how it works. For you, $4000, take it or leave it."

Ryder steps even closer, removing his arm from around me. The look on his face is terrifying, harsh, and cruel. Kain tries to back away again, but Ryder matches him step for step. "$2000. That's as high as I'll go." Ryder's tone is low and somehow manages to be calm but threatening at the same time. I gulp, afraid for Kain despite how disgusting—how despicable—he seems to be. "Don't think that time has made me forget everything you ever told me while drunk. I have it all, and an anonymous police tip is all that's necessary to make your little 'business' shut down.

Kain huffs and shakes his head, smoothing out his t-shirt in a blatant attempt to avoid eye contact with Ryder. "No," he says firmly, still not meeting my mate's eyes. "You know what, you'll never change, will you, Ryder? Once an asshole, always a—"

Kain doesn't even see it coming. Before he can finish the sentence, Ryder snaps, and his hand is wrapped around the other boy's neck. As he's shoved violently against the wall, Kain struggles, trying to shove and kick Ryder away but only managing to knock over the stacks of boxes lined up against the wall. He finally stops struggling as he begins to pale, and his sputters and gasps for air become more desperate.

"Ready to agree to my terms?" Ryder demands, his voice harsh, cold, and unrecognizable. Kain can't even shake or nod his head from the death trap he's in.

'Ryder, stop!' I beg, not daring to interfere but not wishing even this scum to die. 'He isn't worth it. This isn't you!'

'You heard him.' Ryder's voice in my head sounds angry, scared, desperate, and agonized all at the same time. I've never seen or heard him like that, but the thought of the solid boy I've known for almost three years turning into this terrifies me. But he's not done. 'You heard him—I’m an asshole who'll never change. This is the way I used to be, this is how he knows me! Why should I show him mercy?'

'It isn't you now! You're different now in more ways than one. Please, stop for everyone's sake. He's going to die!' I haven't seen him this over the edge since we met, and I don't like it.

His face is conflicted. He's torn between me and the person he used to be. I know how he feels, being torn between myself and Monique, but Kain is turning blue. Finally, Ryder's hand drops, and his victim sinks to the floor, gasping and clutching his throat protectively. He glares up at Ryder and me, his breathing deep, delayed, and ragged.

"Fine!" he finally manages, his voice hoarse and raspy. "$2000!"

"Deal." Ryder stares disdainfully down at Kain. "Louve, go get the others, please." He refuses to look at me, and his tone is eerily calm. I resist the urge to shiver as I turn and head back to the van. Before I can even reach for the handle in the back, Lovett shoves the heavy door open. He gives me a hug, but I don't meet his eyes, ashamed of not making Ryder stop sooner.

"Come on guys," I mutter solemnly. "Let's go."

They begin piling out, Charlette behind them all, while Rudi turns off the car and gets out through her door. I know that the Pack heard what happened and that Rudi was probably giving a full visual report, but no one says anything. Kain is still rubbing his throat when I get back while he pulls a camera out of his desk drawer. Ryder stands in the far corner, not making eye contact with anyone.

"Alright," Kain mutters bitterly, all eyes turning to him. He pulls down a blue screen from against the left wall. "Line up one by one, and I'll take your picture. After that, just...go sit against the wall and...don't touch anything."

We do as he asks, and Rudi takes Charlette and Gabrielle to pick up some food for everyone after their turns. Ryder's acquaintance sets to work as soon as all of the pictures are taken, but I pay him no mind. My thoughts continue to wander to Ryder who disappeared after his turn in front of the blue screen. I'm not sure I want to know what he's doing, but the concern is eating away at me. I have no clue if he's taking his frustration and anger out on buildings or civilians...or his family. I can't stand the anxiety that flows through my body like a dam giving way.

I sigh and rise. "I'll be back," I mutter to my friends as I duck out of the garage. I don't even need to follow Ryder's scent trail—I know where he's going. It's where I'd want to go. He's going home.

I remember where his old house is from when I came with him after he Transformed. I approach the dark, two story house and see him standing rigidly in front of the driveway staring up at the house. He doesn't even notice me until I walk around him to look at him face to face—his is completely blank.

"Ryder, why are you torturing yourself?" I ask softly when he finally notices me. I put a gentle hand on his arm.

He sighs and looks away. "I don't know," he mutters miserably with a clear undertone of frustration and rage. "I...I just can't let go. I keep telling myself what an awful person she is and what she did to me but…" He closes his eyes and shakes his head. "I just can't explain it, Louve. There's just something that makes me come back. Being back here and forced to look at these places that I once haunted...it brings up some...unpleasant memories that I would've much rather stay buried. Forever."

"But Ryder, standing outside of your old house, thinking about your brother and your mother will never help. Thinking about all of that rage and regret will never help. You need to let go. Just stop torturing yourself. You're tearing yourself apart, and I hate to see you so down."

Despite my gentle tone, he gets defensive. "Why don't you take your own advice? You're doing the same thing." He jerks away from my hand as if I burned him and takes a few steps back, sneering. His voice is shaky and almost makes him sound insane. "What, is there a double standard here I should know about, another hypocritical, 'You do as I say, I do as I want?' That's not the way things work, Louve."

"Ouch, that was a little harsh." I cross my arms defensively.

He mimics me, and I let out an annoyed sigh. He does the same, continuing to irk me. "What's wrong, Louve? Did I touch on a sensitive area?" His face and tone become even more sarcastic. "Sorry."

I suck in air through my teeth, trying to maintain control despite Monique urging me in the background to tell him off. "Yeah, you did." I let out my breath and take a step closer, refusing to back down despite the threatening way he looms over me or the clear challenge on his face. "I just can't believe that you would say that. After everything we've been through? I'm working on my stuff, but I'm also trying to just help everyone deal with everything that's been happening! It's like one roadblock after another with this Pack, Ryder, and I'm responsible for keeping those under control as well as keeping in control of myself. So please, Ryder, cut me some slack and just help me help you because it kills me to see you as scared and angry as you've been all night!"

He looks about ready to hit me, and I'm ready to take it. I hold my ground and refuse to back down as I stare pointedly up at him. He continues to loom over me with a stormy glare on his face. And finally, the anger in him gives way to a strange emptiness I’ve never seen in him. The look on his face almost makes it look as though he’s not even there. I step closer, almost hug him, but pull away at the last second. It seems as though the years of turmoil he muddled through before I bit him are finally taking their toll. I can feel his strong emotions radiate through the Bond, strong enough to make me almost think they’re my own.

And then he blocks his emotions, and I don’t even have that to help me understand what he’s going through.

"Ryder," I whisper with a gentle fierceness, trying to break through his emptiness. "Let it go. They aren't worth it. The only way to move on is to not give them the satisfaction of being the ones to break you. They aren't worth your pain or anger or hate because you’ll be the only one who will get hurt in the end." I look into his blank face and search his stormy eyes. "Let it go, Ryder. Let it all go. They aren't worth it. Forget the past, focus on the future."

He doesn't respond. His face is impassive, and he refuses to look at me. Only his eyes allude to the feelings of rage stirring within him, but I can tell that he’s completely shut down. I’ve never seen his normally kind blue eyes turn so dark and stormy.

"Ryder," I beg. "Ryder, are you okay?" My voice is thick and husky with restrained tears. "Ryder, please, answer me. I just need to know that you’ll be okay." I gently place a hesitant hand on his arm, but he’s as aloof as a zombie.

He turns and begins walking away. "Go away, Louve, I’ll be back soon." His voice is as cold as the icy waters of the forest stream in the winter, and it chills me to the bone. "I’ll be back later."

Alright, no more Miss Nice Wolf. I intercept his path and snarl at him, my eyes and abnormally sharp canines glimmering in the waning moon and streetlight. "Alright Ryder, you are going to listen and you are going to listen carefully." He pauses and gazes down at me with depthless eyes. "Now, I’ve tried being patient and compassionate and sympathetic to your tough situation. But I can’t anymore—not when you’re being like this. Ryder, don’t shut me out. Our Pack loves you, but you know that they wouldn't try to help you as much as I am right now. But I can only help you if you’ll God damn let me!"

He rolls his eyes and sucks air in through his teeth. "What do you want, Louve? I’m not in the mood."

"Yeah, I can tell. You wanna know how I can tell? Because I’m watching what you’re eyes tell me—I’m listening to what the Bond tells me, and it tells me that you need help. It says that you don’t want to be alone. I know you’re just trying to be strong, but Ryder, it’s not healthy! Don’t shut me out."

"Too late." He shoves me aside and keeps walking.

I stumble but don’t fall thanks to my advanced werewolf coordination. But his words are a knife in my heart. "Ryder…what do you mean?" I ask cautiously.

He lets out an exasperated breath and turns around to look at me. "It means I’ve shut you out. Honestly, I feel absolutely nothing from you right now. I feel nothing from anyone in the Pack. For now, my head is my head, just like it used to be, and I’m fine with that." He begins walking away from me.

I momentarily panic. Shutting out a Pack is very difficult, and yet, Ryder managed to do it. When a werewolf cuts off a Bond, no matter how rapidly, it could mean willingly leaving the Pack, and that process is sometimes irreversible. The only thing that may be working in our favor is the fact that I can still feel Ryder’s turmoil swirling around inside of me but only very distantly thanks to weeks of practicing emotional blocking.

"Ryder, please, let me back in. Don’t cut everyone out." I finally try one last option when he continues to ignore me. I grab his arm, twirl him around, and slap him clean across the face with a loud WHAP echoing through the otherwise silent night.

He blinks in disbelief, stepping back. "You hit me?"

I sigh with relief. While he may not be the kind, compassionate Ryder that I’m used to, at least he’s finally allowing himself to express his rage through facial expressions. "I had to—you were being an asshole and you needed someone to slap some sense into you. So I did."

"I can’t believe you hit me!" Good, he’s releasing his anger.

I raise an eyebrow and cross my arms. "You pushed me first. Just giving you a taste of your own medicine."

"Who the hell are you right now?" He shakes his head.

"Says the guy who’s not only cutting off his emotions but who’s also cutting off his entire Pack. But fine, if you’re so pissed off, hit me. I’m begging you. Give me your best shot if it’ll help you deal with this."

"What the hell are you talking about?" He rolls his eyes and huffs at me, but doesn't dare lay a finger on me.

"Better yet, punch me! I'll heal immediately and slapping is for girls anyway. Hit me, Ryder. You know you want to." I make taunting, patronizing faces at him to match my tone, and I can feel his anger growing.

"Don’t test me, Louve. I’m not in the mood!"

"I told you, I’d do anything for anyone in my Pack. If that means taking a punch or two here and there to help you relieve your fury then so be it. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll hit you again."

He steps closer to me, and I hold my arms out, welcoming his abuse. "Go on, you know want to." I glance down and see his clenched fists. "Go ahead, Ryder, I can take anything you have to offer."

He breathes out in exasperation once more before grabbing me and crushing his lips against mine. We stand in the middle of the street for a few minutes, our lips locked together before he finally pulls away.

Not having expected that, I’m a bit breathless. "Well that’s one way to release your anger. Feeling better?"

He nods and glances at his house. "A little. But what do you say we get rid of this anger once and for all?"

"You don’t mean—"

"I think it’s time to bring my girlfriend home to meet my mother." He grabs my hand and leads me up to the house, leaving me helpless with no option but to follow him.