Chapter Twenty
Oliver
So the good news is, I found Dalton. He seems fine and not hopped up on drugs. Or maybe he is, who knows?
What I do know is I have a fucking knife against my throat.
Dalton is a lot taller, bulkier, and stronger than when I ran into him on the elevator those couple of times. And the grip he has on me? Definitely shouldn’t be possible for an eighty-year-old.
“I thought you had a lot to say to me, seeing you set those WRB pigs on me,” he snarls.
My body is all tingles at this point, my heart hammering against my spine. “I… what?” Fuck, I need to get away from him. The guy is definitely on something.
He isn’t a guy, is he? A smart-ass voice says in my head.
Not the time, voice!
Shouting is out of the question. I can literally feel the pointed end of the knife against my throat. Fighting him is also out, considering I can’t move my body right now.
I feel a sharp pinprick on my neck.
“I was going to make it out!” he growls, his body shaking with anger.
“Don’t…please, don’t.” Fuck, I’m going to die today, aren’t I? “You can still make it out,” I suggest, my voice breaking.
The pain sharpens. “They won’t let me now! All because of you!”
A whimper leaves my mouth. My body shivers violently. “I’ll talk to them,” I attempt. “They’ll let you go.”
He laughs, and it vibrates through me, making my whole body shake. It sounds almost manic. “You know the worst part? I was well and truly done. I never wanted it to get this bad, and with Aurelia taking over, I wasn’t going to stick around.”
His daughter?
“I was trying to save those humans you found in the apartment,” he shouts. “But not anymore. You humans deserve to die.”
I NEED to get away from him.
Why did he say human, specifically?
I swear to god, voice, if you don’t shut the fuck up right fucking now.
I’ve seen so many videos on self-defense, but I can’t remember a single trick right now. So, I do the best thing I can think of. I jam one hand under the knife and use the other to poke his eyes. Losing a hand is better than losing my neck, right?
He lets out an inhuman snarl, but I’m already running away from him, fingers intact. I hear footsteps, and his hand brushes against mine. I open the door and slam it shut.
Fuck, I’m now trapped in my bedroom.
The door vibrates behind me as Dalton slams against it.
I look around to see if I can move something to barricade the door. No, I don’t have time. It’s already cracking, his body ramming against it repeatedly.
I switch on the light and run towards the in-suite bathroom, closing the door behind me. One more barrier.
I reach for my phone, but of course, I left it on Matt's kitchen counter. My heart is going a mile a minute. My entire body is trembling. I'm hopped up on adrenaline, but I have nowhere to run.
At least I didn't freeze this time.
When I hear a loud crack outside, I duck behind the bathtub and huddle against it. I pick up my back scrubber, an impulse purchase, and hold on to it tightly like it will protect me against the werewolf.
Werewolf. The word appears out of nowhere. My show's characters. That’s who Dalton was behaving like.
It sounds funny. So funny. I would laugh if I wasn’t on the verge of screaming.
The glowing eyes. The expanded height and body mass. The eighty-year-old walking with inhuman speed, bulked up with muscles. The growly inhuman voice. It’s all that I write about week after week.
This is so silly. How is this my life right now?
The bathroom door shakes with a loud bang, followed by another. I just sit there, wide-eyed.
Oh yeah, there’s the freeze response.
I grip the stick tightly, almost cuddling it.
The wood gives out with another crack. A final bang, and there’s a large hole in the wood. My mind takes a second to appreciate how the tightly screwed hinges didn’t give out until the very end.
My very end.
Dalton’s face thrusts through the hole. He smiles at me, his face more defined than normal. There’s barely any fat on it, and his jaws are sharper. He’s almost human but not quite.
His smile is pure evil. His eyes are trained on me like I’m his next meal. He slips his hand in and flips the lock.
I can’t hear a thing over the roar of my blood and pounding heart.
Suddenly, Dalton is smashed away from the door. A loud grunt, and he’s not in the frame anymore.
I get a glimpse of another face. Matt. A wave of relief crashes over me, and I nearly sink into the floor.
But then I look at him closely. His sharp jaws are so much sharper than before. His face is human but not quite.
The relief is immediately replaced by fear, maybe worse than before. I push back against the tub, my body wanting to create as much space between us as possible.
His face drops right in front of my eyes.
Then he’s pushed away.
“Matt!” I shout, standing. Fuck, I need to save him! I dash to the door and see Dalton and Matt fighting.
I pull it open before realizing it's not much of a fight, not really.
Matt punches Dalton hard in his abdomen, and he goes down like a sack of bricks.
I shut the door and slump against the wall next to it. My body screams that it still isn’t safe to go out. Not yet.
I hear footsteps in my bedroom. Then a light knock.
“Oliver?” someone hesitantly calls. Nick.
Does he know about Matt?
You’re so stupid!
Yeah, okay, Nick’s a werewolf, too. Are all Matt’s friends werewolves? Will they hurt me? No, if Matt trusts them, they won’t.
Matt wouldn’t hurt me. Even my extremely stupid mind knows that.
But do I really want to go out and deal with things right now?
“It’s safe, Oliver. I promise. Will you please come out?” Nick says, gently coaxing.
I guess I don’t have a choice anymore.