Chapter Thirteen
Lawson
Thinking about them makes the rage I feel constantly flare. Since moving here, I have tried to ignore everything that happened.
“You don’t have to explain if you're not ready,” Haven whispers.
“I do. It’s not over.” I look at her, and she frowns.
“I have to start at the beginning.” I stand up, unable to stay still while I spill my guts.
“Hunter told you some things. I was adopted. They seemed kind,” I laugh.
“What a joke. I was starving for attention and parents that wouldn’t die.
I was young, and I can’t remember all the details.
What I do remember is the pain of being punched in the face for not doing the chores as they expected.
They lived on a piece of land with a pack.
Some shifters do, surrounding themselves with others of their own species.
In this case, there were all kinds of animals living there.
Their rules were brutal. Once a week, they held trials.
Those who wanted to move up in the pack had the opportunity to fight their way to the top.
The kids didn’t fight until they were ten. ”
“Ten?” she gasps.
“Our worlds aren't the same. By the time we turn ten, we have seen things, experienced things that humans can’t comprehend.
We're taught about our animals as soon as we can talk.
Usually, by then, you have seen your parents or relatives shift.
We know there is magic in the world, and we're supposed to keep it a secret from humans.
If your family is loving, they protect you until you're ready to protect yourself.
If not, you're thrust into a cruel world that would hunt you rather than try to understand you.” I lean against the wall, crossing my arms. “Our parents were loving until they were killed.
They taught us everything they could while they were alive.
“When I was ripped away from my brothers, I thought it might be my chance to live well. I was wrong. My new family lived in a way that didn’t seem right, yet when I was submerged in it, my past faded away.
Every day for two years, I asked to find my brothers.
Every day, they told me no. When I cried, a belt was snapped across my back.
I was forced to watch their trials and lectured that one day soon, I would be fighting for my place.
” I roll my eyes. “I didn’t want a place there.
The men were always angry. The women were beaten down, tired, and abused.
My mind was constantly whirling, never knowing how to act.
I remember how my brothers and I were taught, but as time went on, those memories became fuzzy.
I hated it there,” I hiss, running my hands through my hair.
“But the fucked up thing was…I began to love it.”
“Lawson,” she whispers, and I shake my head.
“I was fed. They hunted all the time, and my stomach was never empty. I liked some of the kids. The adults were rough, and some were mean as fuck. We shifted all the time and didn’t worry about humans seeing us since we lived in the middle of nowhere.
I love being a jaguar. My parents instilled that love.
It was stifled in the foster home. We couldn’t shift, always fearful of being caught.
My adopted mom wasn’t the soft woman she appeared to be.
She was the queen of the pack and brutal.
The women fought just as the men did. She earned her place like everyone else.
I still had dreams of being with my brothers, and when the time came for me to earn my place, I pleaded once again to find them.
My foster dad said that if I moved up in the pack, he would help me find them, and they could join us.
“He gave me motivation. It worked just as he planned. My first fight was against one of my friends. There were no rules. If someone was killed, it meant they weren’t supposed to be in the pack.
I’d seen it, but it didn’t register that it could be me who died.
I fought for the chance to be with them again.
I had him. He was on the verge of collapsing.
I couldn’t kill him. I thought I had gone far enough.
They disagreed. When I wouldn’t finish him, my adoptive parents ordered the pack to do it.
” I close my eyes, swallowing hard. “I didn’t want to watch, but he made me.
He told me this was the way our world worked.
” I open my eyes and look at her. “It was either kill or be killed. Usually, there wasn’t death at the end of a fight, but he wanted to teach me a lesson.
The pack would dwindle quickly if they eliminated half, so I knew it was because of me.
“After that, I fell in line. I did what I was told. I fought whoever they put in front of me and hoped I wouldn’t have to kill again.
The first several times, I threw up afterwards.
I was scrappy and tough. I didn’t lose many fights.
Our life as a demented family continued, and I found my place within it.
I never forgot what I was fighting for. When I turned sixteen, I saw a pack member kill a human.
He brought a woman home. His friends enjoyed tormenting her, and when she ran, they chased her.
” I slide down the wall, bending my knees and propping my elbows on them.
“I thought they would get in trouble.” I hold my hands in front of my mouth.
“My foster dad, Frank, laughed. I decided at that moment to leave. He must have sensed the change because the next day, he sat me down and told me he had been looking for my family. He apologized, saying he found out they were dead.”
“No,” Haven cries.
“I told him I didn’t believe him, and somehow, he convinced me.
” She stands from the bed and sits in front of me.
“I was feral after that. My fights were ruthless. What did I have to lose? There was no going back. I immersed myself in the life that was given to me. I lost myself,” I whisper, and Haven scoots closer, curling her hand around my calf.
“I enjoyed shedding blood. I wanted to be the best. I turned eighteen and didn’t leave.
Frank was proud. It felt good. Why did it feel good? ”
“He groomed you,” she says softly. “He took a little boy who needed love and molded you into what he wanted.”
“He did. He did a good job of it,” I say roughly.
“Several years later, we had to move suddenly. There was no explanation, and we didn’t question him.
Everything was packed, and we traveled for days.
Frank had property everywhere. As we were settling in, I overheard a conversation.
Someone was looking for me. Someone named Hunter.
I confronted Frank. He didn’t have to say anything.
I could see his expression as he tried to come up with a lie.
” I bow my head. “I lost it. It took six of the best fighters to control me. I was knocked unconscious. When I woke up, they had chained me up.”
“Oh, Lawson,” she whispers with tears in her eyes.
“The mind is a funny thing. I despised what he had done and how I had to live, yet as I rubbed my skin raw day after day trying to get out of the chains, I wanted to go back. Back to the days of thinking they were dead. It was torture thinking about Hunter searching for me.” I rub my hand over my face.
“Frank messed with my head. He called me a killer. Why would my brothers want me after all the things I did?” I drop my head back, hitting the wall.
“I started to believe he was right. I didn’t want to see their faces after they saw how I lived.
Still, I held onto my anger. It took months of captivity and Frank’s words before I agreed to stay. ”
“Why did he care? What was his reason that he wouldn’t let you go?” she asks.
“Who the fuck knows? He’s demented. He acted like I was a prize of some kind.
If I walked away, he lost. The men made it a game.
How many people can they recruit? Frank wanted to build the biggest pack the shifter world had ever seen.
I was a game piece he didn’t want to lose.
” I tip my head and look at her. “I decided to continue as we had before.”
“How long did you stay?”
“Five very long years,” I mumble, finding it hard to meet her gaze. “I was afraid that if I did leave, my brothers would look at me with disdain. But more than that, I feared that I would miss it.”
“What changed?”
“One night, one of the men invited me to go to the closest town. They wanted to find fresh meat. I was shocked. Not that they would do it, but that they were comfortable enough to ask me. They included me as if I thought it was alright.” I clench my jaw.
“I declined, claiming I was tired. In my mind, I was screaming at them. Voicing the thoughts would have put a target on my back and tipped off my plan. I had to leave. I couldn’t let anything change my mind.
At that point, I didn’t know if my brothers were alive or not.
I didn’t know if they were still looking for me, but I had to try to find them.
I waited. It was days later, when some of the pack went for a run, and the rest were either drinking or asleep, that I left.
I fucking ran. I didn’t try to get anyone to come with me.
Some of them didn’t want to be there any more than I did, but I didn’t care. I saw my chance and got the hell out.