Rejecting Him

With no one else in the apartment save for me, it was as if the place was too spacious, too empty. I always spent my nights off at the club with Maya, but ever since the pack meeting I felt myself turning into something of a recluse. Maya had taken to Bryson like a fish to water, so I was happy that she had someone to keep her company while I locked my doors and windows, drew the shades, and curled up on the couch with my bat laid across my lap. Bryson made her happy, and I was glad for that, but the same could not be said for me and Warren.

After the encounter in the parking lot, I knew I had every reason to be afraid of him. That knowledge alone left me with a bittersweet relief; I wasn't paranoid, at least, but when I'd have more people on my side, only God knew. The fact that my pack--my family--had voted for him left me wondering just who I could trust now.

Even though it would upset Mom and Dad, who were helping me pay for my little one bedroom apartment, I started keeping all the lights on at night. Whenever I turned them off I felt the shadows creeping up on me, closing in on me, suffocating me. My room was a solitary island of darkness in the apartment's sea of light.

When I finally slipped off to sleep, it was well past midnight. Warren's grinning face was all I was able to remember from the jumbled chaos of my dreams. Every time I woke up, my blankets would either be twisted around me or sitting bunched up at the foot of my bed.

I was exhausted. I was angry. I wanted to cry.

Most of all, I wanted my life back.

~~~

A sharp knocking on my door drew me at once from a (blessedly) dreamless sleep. I sat up, immediately awake, and shot the door a frightened look. As far as I knew, Warren didn't know where I lived, but it wasn't like he couldn't easily find out. My scent could easily lead him to my door, failing an easy-to-please pack member that wanted nothing more than to obtain Warren's favor.

More knocking. I slowly tip-toed over to the door from where I'd passed out on the couch and peeked through the peephole. Dad was on the front porch, his muscular bulk filling up all the peephole allowed me to see. His face was a stony mask that refused to betray his emotions; he was my dad, though. I knew him too well, and I sensed the anger--or perhaps the disappointment?--smoldering just beneath his stoic exterior. That alone was enough to make the wolf in me want to tuck her tail beneath her legs.

The human side of me wouldn't do that, though. Not when I was almost certain of the reason Dad was here.

I bit my lip. I wasn't so sure I wanted to let him inside, and honestly, if we were humans I'd be tempted to crawl under my blankets and wait for him to leave. But we were werewolves, as well as adults. He already knew I was here, since the strength of my scent would be a dead giveaway. Also, like any adult, I knew I had to grow a spine and handle my problems instead of hiding from them.

Composing myself as best as I could, I carefully unlocked the door and swung it open.

Dad stood tall and rigid, his gaze fierce and unmovable. He had always been this way when dealing with serious pack business, while playing the part of a warm, loving dad at home. But today he wasn't Dad, and he wasn't Alpha Ken Greenwood. The weariness in his eyes, behind the fierceness, had turned him into someone else entirely.

"Hi, Dad."

"Callie." Dad nodded, once, in a curt greeting. "May I come in?"

It wasn't a question. I stepped aside to let him in.

Having crashed on the couch last night, the living room could have certainly looked better. Dad wrinkled his nose at the blanket sprawled haphazardly across the couch. On the coffee table sat a book, laying open on its face where I'd left off, and an empty tub of ice cream with a spoon still in it. Next to that was an empty pizza slice box.

"Sleepover?" Dad said, looking back at me. I just shrugged.

"If you could call it that."

Dad's lips twitched in what I thought may have been a smile. He cleared his throat.

"You know, Callie, it's been a while since we've really had any one-on-one time together, wouldn't you agree?"

"We've both been busy," was all I said in return. I'd have to be stupid not to know why I was here.

"I know. The Seattle pack-well, they just know how to keep me on my toes."

"How so?"

"That's Council business, Callie."

I sighed. Maybe Alanna was right about the pack's grapevine.

~~~

Picking at the salad before me, I watched the humans walking by. It was sunny and cloudless out, and the downtown air was fragrant with the scent of flowers. It was one of those days where even people on their way to work seemed to be in a leisurely mood.

I turned back to Dad. The most we'd said to each other was nothing but small talk, comments on the weather and our food and such. A silence had then fallen between us. I was sick of us avoiding the obvious.

"Dad, I know. I know this is about Warren. Whatever you have to say, just say it. Please."

Dad sat back in his chair and set down his silverware, carefully aligning his fork and knife on the table. He rested his hands in his lap.

"I'm really just at a loss for words, Callie. Why would you do this?" he said. I frowned.

"What do you mean? Why did I reject Warren?"

"Yes."

"He's a rogue. He's been following me. He invaded my territory. After the meeting he flipped out on me in the parking lot. I won't have someone like that in my life."

"It's not common for a werewolf to reject an Alpha, though."

I sighed harshly. "Well, I'm just doing what's right for myself. To hell with how common it is!"

Dad leaned forward, glaring. "Callie, listen to me. What you did was not unwise, but it was very disappointing. Warren is the Alpha. You are my daughter. Honestly I expected more from you. Being imprinted upon by the new Alpha will keep the title in our family-"

"What about me, Dad? What about my safety? Doesn't that matter to you?" I exclaimed, fighting to keep my voice at a normal level. Had we been at home, I'm sure I would have yelled. It wasn't like me to talk back like I was now, but given the current situation, I'd long since stopped caring.

"Yes, of course it does," Dad countered. "But we're not like humans. You know this."

"Oh, trust me, you've made that more than clear to me. I'm done here. Good bye."

Seething, I threw down my napkin and stormed away.

~~~

I smelled him before I saw him, and inside I felt the now all too familiar mix of rage and fear begin to rise. A sliver of cold slid down my spine.

"Excuse me, miss?" I practically heard the grin in Warren's voice. I turned slowly to face him, holding the white dress I'd been re-buttoning between us like a shield. It was a slow day in the fitting rooms, and I was close to falling asleep on my feet. The last thing I needed, however, was this kind of diversion. Saying I could do without it was an understatement if I ever heard one.

There was a certain smile I always wore with rude, entitled, or otherwise unpleasant customers. It was bright and overly cheery in a Barbie doll sort of way. I wore that smile now; no matter what was going on outside of work I wouldn't let myself get fired because of Warren.

"How may I help you?" I greeted him.

Warren returned my smile with a crooked grin of his own. He held up his arm, over which were draped several items. I hated when people did this, as it sometimes made it harder for me to count the merchandise. But, I guess, it was better than having all the hangers tangled together.

I counted his items, holding them apart like I was trained to do. Anyone working fitting rooms had to hold the items apart while counting so that, if there was anything hidden among them, it would fall out and expose potential shoplifters.

All of Warren's clothes were either black or very dark in color. Three shirts, two pairs of pants, and a pair of sneakers.

"Here's your number," I said, handing him a plastic card with a number five on it. "The men's fitting rooms are down that way. I'll hold onto your shoes." I never let go of his eyes as I spoke. Maybe it was just because I was a werewolf, but something told me inside that he was just waiting for me to look away.

Warren's fingers brushed lightly against mine as he took the number. I couldn't help but recoil; my smile slipped a notch.

As he tried on his clothes I found it hard to focus on my task of preparing the merchandise to go back onto the floor. It wasn't difficult by any means; re-tie any sashes, zip zippers, button buttons, and cross the straps inside dresses and some tops over the hangers. But just knowing Warren wasn't all that far from where I stood put me on edge. My fingers, usually so nimble from years of buttoning buttons were now clumsy and my legs felt weak like jello. The hanger that I'd hung the white dress from clattered to the floor. I bit my tongue to hold back an oath; not for Warren, since I couldn't care less what he thought, but for the sake of my job.

I gave the phone on the wall across from me a longing gaze. I had half a mind to page my coworker Patrick so I could go on my brake. Warren would know, though, and the last thing I wanted to do was show him how much he scared me.

"Careful now," he called, a hint of silent laughter in his voice.

Oh, shut up. "What are you doing here?" I asked, picking up the dress and dusting it off.

"Shopping, of course. What does it look like I'm doing?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Well, why here? Why this store? There's a mall just a little further down the way."

Warren chuckled. "You just can't beat the prices here."

Yeah, fifty dollar bikinis are just fantastic.

Another chuckle, this time at my silence. "Of course, sometimes it's nice just to look. To get ideas of what I want. Wouldn't you agree?"

It was like having an ice cube slip down my spine. "N-no," I stammered. Then, more forcefully, "No."

"It's definitely not for everyone," Warren said.

"I'll say."

I couldn't stand shoplifters, especially the younger ones who thought that hiding merchandise on their person or popping tags was the height of innovation. Right now, though, I'd do anything to have to deal with them instead of Warren.

"Say, Callie, how does going out to dinner this Friday sound? Just you and me, of course."

I'd rather stay home and down an entire bottle of Ipecac. "No, can't."

The lock on Warren's door clicked, causing my heart to give a nervous leap. He strode over to the counter and planted his hands on its surface. "Can't? Or don't want to?" Warren's eyes smoldered. I swallowed a lump of fear.

"Can't," I repeated. "Girl's night."

It was a lie since girls night was always on Saturdays, but I'd say anything to get out of one-on-one time with Warren.

"I see..."

"Look, I'm working, and I can't just freely socialize with visitors. Is there anything else I can do? Or will that be all?"

"No, that's fine."

Warren was just short of snapping at me. He vanished back into his fitting room, then returned and thrust all but a pair of black jeans into my arms. Snatching his black Converse from off the countertop, Warren calmly strode away. The anger seemed to rise off him like heat waves. I half expected him to come back later that afternoon, but to my relief, he never did.

~~~

Though I had lied about girl's night, Maya still managed to drag me out of the apartment anyway. My reclusive behavior hadn't gone unnoticed by her, and while I had trouble telling her what all was going on, she firmly believed that a night out clubbing with the girls would be good for me.

A Ke$ha remix thumped over the speakers as we stepped into the darkened club to have the inside of our wrists stamped by the door woman. She was quiet, with a sleek black ponytail, a black t-shirt on and a pair of capri jeans. Maya and I left our purses at coat check since it was a pain to constantly fuss over them all night. Of course, that didn't stop Maya from storing her phone and some twenties in her cleavage. The act made me wrinkle my nose; being paid in money that had been stored in that area was one of my least favorite parts of my job.

"Oh, come on," Maya called above the music, shooting me a look. "Until they start making clothes with actual pockets I'm gonna store stuff where I can!"

"Suit yourself!" I called back.

It didn't take too long to find our friends, Jamie and Della, on the dance floor. Jamie, who I had met through my Yoga classes, was a bit on the shorter side. She had fiery copper hair that contrasted her sparkling silver dress. Her eyes were an icy, clear blue, her skin a soft milky white.

Della, on the other hand, was a full-figured diva with dark black-brown skin. She used to work with me until she moved and, for the sake of convenience, transferred to another location. Tonight she was a sight to behold in her purple dress and matching eye shadow. Unlike me, she relaxed her hair almost religiously. A purple feather had been clipped in for decoration.

In all honesty I was glad that Maya had dragged me out dancing. As the bass thrummed up my legs, through my body, I realized how much I missed this. I missed being able to knock back a few drinks with my closest friends and dancing the night away.

I missed not being afraid.

~~~

Bottoms up, ladies!" Della crowed, bustling toward our table with bright green jello shots in her hands. Before me sat my unfinished Vodka Cran, but since tonight was a night of letting loose for me (Maya had seen to that), I eagerly slurped down my shot. A drunken cheer erupted at our table.

"Next round of shots is on me!" I called.

"Hows about a little tequila?" Maya replied with a wink.

"Maybe!" I winked back.

"Have at it then," Jamie said, raising her glass of Purple Kool Aid. "I think I'll stick with this."

"But it's girl's night!" Maya exclaimed. "Live a little!"

Jamie just chuckled and shook her head.

A smell, familiar and dangerous, drifted through the club's haze of sweat and attraction. I shivered. Of course he would find me. He always did.

"I'll be right back," I said to my friends, sliding off the high metal stool. Hopefully our drinking had made the tremor in my voice unnoticeable to them.

"Where are you going?" Jamie asked with a frown.

"To the bathroom. Y'know how I get with alcohol." I shrugged but she nodded in understanding. Alcohol tended to run through me very quickly. "Watch my drink for me?"

"Course, dear."

I wove my way through the mass of bodies, first around the back to make it look like I truly was heading to the rest room, then toward the front door. The closer I got, the stronger Warren's scent became, until I was almost choked with it. I raised my hand to cover my nose and mouth, but the knowledge that no one here could smell him like I smelled him made me force my hand back down again. Squaring my shoulders, I stepped out into the night.

The area in front of the club was divided with a thick, red velvet rope. Those inside the rope had come out for air, to cool off, or to smoke. They were an immediate reminder to me that, whatever transpired between me and Warren, we'd have witnesses.

On the other side of the rope was Warren himself, cigarette in hand and a small, close-lipped smile on his face. His eyes slid up and down my body in a way that suddenly made me feel like I was naked. If he was a spider, then I was the unfortunate fly caught in his web.

His eyes locked onto mine. I froze. The only thing that made me feel in any way secure was the soft shuffling of the security guy's feet behind me.

"Warren," I said softly. His smile widened, and he tapped some ash onto the ground.

"Hey Callie."

"What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to talk to you."

"This is a bar," I pointed out, as if that would help any. He looked too young to come in, much younger than his supposed twenty years, but that didn't mean a thing. Some of my parents' friends still got carded now and again. Slower aging was all part of being a werewolf.

"I know. That's why we can talk out here," he said, spreading his arms to indicate the sidewalk. I shook my head.

"No, my friends are waiting."

"You're not alone?"

"Why, should I be?" I narrowed my eyes, crossing my arms.

"Well as your mate I think it's better if we spend more time together. Alone." He raised an eyebrow, blowing out a steady stream of smoke. I caught myself staring at his lips and looked away.

"I am not your mate, Warren. I rejected you. Remember?"

People were looking now. A girl with a hot pink Mohawk sneered and shook her head. A distinct heat rose in my cheeks.

"Well, maybe we just started off on the wrong foot," Warren reasoned. Though he still wore a friendly, inviting smile, his eyes were anything but. I trusted his eyes more than I trusted his smile.

"Be that as it may, I'm just not interested in you. I've met someone else."

I gasped, my hands flying up to my mouth, but the damage was already done. Warren's entire face darkened under a storm cloud of rage. The image of Warren from last night in the parking lot flashed in my mind and I took an uneasy step backward.

More people turned their attention to us. I wished they would just look away, but that was unlikely. No one needed to tell me that Warren and I were making a scene.

"Who is he?" Warren asked softly, taking his own step forward. From the corner of my eye I noticed the security guy stepping closer as well.

"It doesn't matter. Who I see is my business, not yours," I said pointedly.

"It is when I'm Alpha," he countered.

"You ain't shit, buddy, now leave her alone," the security guy interjected.

Warren and I threw him shocked stares. The security guy was built like a brick house with a barrel-like chest and thick, muscular arms. He was dressed in a black t-shirt with SECURITY printed in white across the chest, denim pants, and large black boots. His eyes were hidden behind shades. Were it not for the shades, he would have reminded me of Walter from Breaking Bad.

"Whatever it is you guys got goin' on, you need to take it somewhere else," Security continued. Warren glared darkly at him, then turned his glare onto me.

"Callie," he growled through gritted teeth, shaking a finger in my face. "This isn't over. Next meeting, you and I are going to have a long, long talk." With that, he turned on his heel and stormed off.

I deflated with relief against the cool brick of the club. Security seemed to give me a sidelong glance.

"D'you know that guy?" he asked.

I shrugged. "It's complicated," was all I said, as if that could possibly explain everything this human had just seen.

"Well, if you see him again, come let me know." He gazed sincerely at me over the top of his shades. A ghost of a smile played about my lips.

"I'll keep that in mind."