13. Chapter Twelve
“Ow.” I rub the back of my neck, a pinched nerve causing me pain.
I lift my head, continuing to massage the aching muscles. “That explains it,” I grumble with a yawn, stretching my arms to work out the kinks of sleeping on the sofa.
I don’t typically sleep in the living room but last night with Holly, I felt so relaxed and tired. I have never felt that way before. Even though I have so much to worry about, she still made me feel at peace.
“Holly,” I whisper when it hits me that I did not fall asleep alone. “Holly?” I raise my voice, looking around the room for any sign of her. “Holly!” I yell, standing to my feet.
I check the kitchen, the bedrooms, and the bathrooms downstairs. Running, I take two steps at a time hoping she is in my bedroom. Maybe the couch was uncomfortable for her.
“Holly? Are you okay?” Opening the bedroom door, I’m prepared to slide in next to her. I want to wrap my arms around her and pull her close.
Or maybe she can be the big spoon. I love being held. I can’t remember the last time where I was the one being cuddled.
But the room is empty.
She isn’t in the bathroom. The door is open, and the light is off. The house is quiet.
Holly isn’t here.
There’s a sting of disappointment knowing she left without saying goodbye. I plop down on the side of the bed, trying to recall the moment she left. My head is numb. I can’t remember anything. I must have slept like I was dead.
I lie down and stare at the ceiling fan.
Yikes. I need to clean the blades.
Blowing out a breath after a second of gathering my thoughts, I sit up, scratching my bare shoulder.
I freeze.
The morning fog in my mind lifts just enough for me to remember I slept with a shirt on.
“I swear I did,” I grumble, rubbing a hand down my face in exhaustion and slight confusion. “I remember getting dressed, giving Holly clothes, we went downstairs, talked, and…”
Everything after that is blank.
I scrub my eyes and yawn again. I need to get up, get ready, and call Heather. I’ll knock on Holly’s door later. I hope I didn’t do anything wrong last night for her to get up and leave. I wanted her to stay. I didn’t want her to spend the night during a storm alone.
Which reminds me, I need to talk to Caden. He needs to calm down with all these damn storms. Caden is a storm kitsune. He creates storms which gives him energy, but it rains almost every day now. I miss the sun on my skin.
The smell of my automatic coffee pot brewing motivates me to get up from my big comfortable bed.
“Ugh, this sucks. Mornings are not for me,” I groan, hanging my head as I drag my feet to the bathroom.
Flipping on the light, I wince, closing my eyes to slits to protect them from the harsh brightness. I grip the vanity, taking a deep breath to prepare myself for the day.
Looking at my reflection, I reach for my toothbrush when I notice my torso.
My toothbrush falls from my grip. I can’t remember to breathe.
“What in the ever-loving fucking wild is this?” I screech, jumping backward and grabbing at my skin.
I twist and turn, seeing where all the hickey-like spots end and begin. “I’m losing my fucking mind. I’m losing it. Holy fuck, I have a disease. This has to be contagious.” I stare at myself in the mirror in pure panic, noticing perfect red dots all over my body. They kind of look like hickies. How that would be possible, I have no idea.
The black mark is what grabs my attention the most.
It’s spread.
“Holy wild. Holy wild, Holy wild,” I chant in absolute dismay, fumbling with the strings at my sweatpants before tugging them down to my knees.
“Ah!” I’m not proud of the high-note scream, but others would too if they saw what I’m seeing on my cock.
I grab myself, twisting and turning, completely forgetting it’s attached to my body until I tug too hard and grunt.
“Shit, sorry,” I groan in pain, apologizing to my fucking self.
The black mark looks like splattered ink. The largest darkest spot is my cock. More than half is onyx with a few spots that vein out like lightning. It’s those veins that travel up my body and now they have grown, stopping right under pec.
I grip the counter when the room starts to spin. Spots fill my vision as worst-case scenarios run through my mind.
Is this the plague? It can’t be the plague, right? A skin disorder maybe? Cancer?
I slap my forehead when that thought crosses my mind. “Of course it isn’t cancer, you fucking idiot.” I catch my reflection in the mirror, watching my chest rise and fall as I take deep calming breaths.
This is wild. How does this happen?
“Take a shower, relax, and go to the doctor. Everything will be fine,” I say to myself, picking up my toothbrush again. “Just fine. You’re fine, Fitz.” A manic cackle escapes me as I load my toothbrush with too much toothpaste.
Right as I open my mouth to begin brushing, a dark color captures my attention. “What the fuck?” I stick out my tongue, eyes widening when I see it’s black. “What the fuck?” I scream through a mumble. I touch it and then rub it with my fingers. It won’t come off.
“Oh my God. What the fuck is going on? What is this? Am I dying? I have to be dying.”
I scrub my tongue with my toothbrush and the frothy white paste begins to turn grey. There’s nothing I can do about it. I don’t think I’m dying. I guess if I keel over later that will answer all of my questions.
I’m going to drive myself insane with this. All I can do is move forward and keep my mouth shut so I don’t get asked too many questions.
I brush my teeth in a daze, same with the shower, and not even the fun bubbles with iridescent colors bring me out of my trance.
With the same energy, I get dressed.
“Dressed and Stressed should be your motto, Fitz.” Buttoning my jeans, I continue my morning routine on autopilot.
The feather on the nightstand captures my attention. I pick it up, analyzing it to decide where it could have come from. I remember thinking it was her wings, and I’ve never felt so fucking stupid in my entire life.
The feather is probably from my pillow. It’s the only reasonable solution.
“Because monsters aren’t real, Fitz. At least, not for you.” I slam the light off with my fist, rage burning away the morning fog I typically feel this early.
I don’t usually pity myself but I’m so tired of being let down. There is always fucking something that sets me back. I grew up with awful abusive parents. I took a beating from my father the same night I took my pregnant sister away from that house. I was only eighteen years old working two jobs and getting five hours of sleep between each shift. I helped raise my nephew Elijah and being so young, that wasn’t easy for me or Heather. Then, my best friend went missing and was turned into a monster.
I got him back and I couldn’t be happier, but now with all these unknown things happening to me, I’m not sure how to stay positive. I’m tired of always having to keep my head up, of always pushing through and forward. I’m so sick of waiting to get out on the other side. I’m done fooling myself that this ‘other side’ I have made up in my head is better than the side I have been on my entire life.
One step forward, one hundred steps back it seems. I’m tired. To my bones. To my soul. I need a reset. I’m not sure how much longer I can continue to live like this. This fixation I have on wanting a monster mate is out of control. It’s unhealthy. The hope for her is what will ultimately kill me because I know monsters exist. I see Rhett and Creed nearly every day.
Knowing they exist only reaffirms my dream.
I’m starting to think it is too unrealistic to have what Demi and Mickey have.
“It’s time for the real world, Fitz.”
Going downstairs, I don’t even bother with my coffee. I’m too resigned. I think I’ll go to Demi’s Diner instead. Maybe being around others will lighten my mood after I go to the doctor.
Snagging my hat, I plop it on my head as I snag my keys. It’s cool out so I put on my jacket too, tucking my wallet inside the pocket. When I open the door, the cold air hits me, taking away my breath for a second.
The harshness from the blast of bitter cold pulls me from my stupor a little. For some reason, all I can think about is planting a variety of different colored hollyhocks in front of my porch. If I plant them now, maybe by summer they could bloom. Seeing them would bring me so much happiness, reminding me of a time when life was hard yet so good.
When it was just my sister and I living in a one-bedroom apartment and barely making rent, our neighbor would bring us freshly picked hollyhocks from her garden every single week.
They were the only pop of color in our bland apartment. We couldn’t afford anything else. The walls were blank. We couldn’t afford to put photos up anywhere because we couldn’t afford to print them. I gave my sister the closet and I lived out of a suitcase.
I remember asking her why she kept bringing these flowers to us and I’ll never forget what she said.
“Hollyhocks symbolize fortune and eternal life, but not only that, they bring love and healing. I notice you need them all. These flowers will give you what you need in your soul. Think of them like armor, protecting you when you have no idea you need protection. Just wait and see.”
So many years later, I can’t help but wonder if her wild theory was right, and I’m starting to think I need to take a page from her book.
Every week when she came over was my favorite time. I was always curious about what color combinations she would come up with. I became fascinated. All from a simple flower. Do I think those flowers got me to where I am?
No, they are only flowers. And yet, they made me believe in myself and that’s all I needed. Without that neighbor bringing those gifts to us every week, I’m not sure where my sister and I would be. That simple act of kindness lifted us from the mud we found ourselves in.
Thinking of hollyhocks reminds me of my new neighbor. My attention swivels from the empty lawn to Holly’s house.
I’m curious what she is up to. Why would she leave without saying goodbye?
I need to leave her alone. This isn’t fair to her. The monster I see reminds me so much of the symbolization of the hollyhock flower. Resigning myself to a normal life, I swing the key ring around my finger while I head to my truck.
It’s time to put her out of sight and out of mind. That’s easier said than done. I’m addicted to the vision my mind creates when she is around. I want more. I want to stare at her all day, bathe myself in hopes that she is real, and dream of her time and time again.
I’d be so lost in the dreams of her, I’d never want to wake up.
Too bad that isn’t a choice.
Climbing into my truck, I take one last look at her house, drive away, and put her in my rearview.
I press the Bluetooth button on the steering wheel. “Call Heather,” I say with clear and concise dictation so the damn computer can understand me.
“Calling Heather,” the truck’s ‘voice’ replies.
It rings three times before her voice comes across the speaker. “Hey, Fitz.”
“You sound tired. Is Eli doing okay?”
“No… We’re… I won’t be there today, Fitz. We can’t be.”
I rub my chin with one hand, keeping the other on the wheel. “I’m worried, Heather. I need you to be on the lookout, okay? Arm yourself.”
“Why is this different than all the other times he has found you, Fitz?”
“Because out of all those times, he has never threatened to come for you. This time he did. That’s how I know he is serious. The moment Eli is better, you come to me. I have the space. I never should have left—”
“—Stop. You sacrificed so much for me and Eli. You deserved to go do something for yourself.”
“I’ll come to you now. I’ll help you guys get here. Do you need money?”
“No, you send plenty every week even though I tell you not to,” she scolds. “We’re okay. I promise I’ll update you. I need to go. The nurse is calling for us to go into the room.”
“Okay. Promise me you’ll be extra careful?”
“Fiz, I promise. I swear to you. I love you, okay? We will be there as soon as we can.”
I ball my fist as tight as I can, doing my best to remain calm. I’m very protective of my sister. She’s the only one I will change my morality for. I will kill to protect her and my nephew. I don’t care what that would mean for me as long as they are safe.
“I love you too. Let me know what the doctor says.”
“I will. Next time, I’ll have him call you when he is feeling better.”
I grin, excited to talk to him. “Perfect. I can’t wait. Give him a hug for me.”
“I always do. Talk to you later.”
The call ends just as I pull into the urgent care parking lot again. It’s empty because only I would come here this fucking early. Everyone is smart enough not to wake up at this ungodly hour.
I thud my forehead against the steering wheel. “These mornings are getting worse and worse. At this point, I might stay in bed.” I drag my ass out of the truck, pocketing my keys.
The skin on the back of my neck tingles. Every hair stands up on its end and I freeze. I swear to all things wild; someone is breathing on the back of my neck. I lift my arms to show I’m not a threat. My mouth becomes dry. My heart pounds in my chest but to my surprise, it isn’t because I’m afraid.
A small tremble irritates my body as that warm breath ghosts across my pulse on the side of my neck. I swear something slides down my back, bringing me nothing but comfort.
Closing my eyes, I allow the feeling to inject me. Peace eases the panic in the back of my mind. A soft pressure haunts my skin at the base of my throat. Inhaling a sharp breath, I open my eyes and spin around.
Nothing is there.
Only a nearly empty parking lot, the morning fog, and a few frogs croaking in the woods.
“What the fuck is going on?” I ask myself, absolutely discombobulated at how I have found myself in this situation.
I’m not going to be delusional to myself. I don’t know what, but there’s something happening to me. I felt it. I’m going to go with my instincts. Maybe I do have a monster.
I just haven’t seen her yet.
“You don’t need to be afraid,” I announce to the empty parking lot.
If anyone were to see me right now, they would label me unstable.
“I know you’re here.” Someone is fucking here. “I won’t care if you’re a monster DNA experiment. I’m totally cool with it. I love it, actually.” Oh, so fucking much. “I’m someone you can trust. I have friends like you.” I stand in the middle of the parking lot under a dimly lit streetlight calling out to my little monster. Excitement burns me from within. “I’m wondering if maybe you’re my mate? Maybe you don’t know what that means. My friends didn’t until they were taught by other paranormals but if I am your fated mate, it means I’m destined to be yours. I want that, you know. I want to be destined to you.”
Everything that has happened makes so much sense if a monster is involved. It checks all of my boxes.
The question is will my monster come out and play? All I need to do is gain her trust. I’m pushing her, maybe. I need to respect her space.
Except I don’t want to respect her space at all.
“I’ll be looking for you,” I say before stepping through the sliding glass doors of urgent care.
“Oh, you’re back,” the kind nurse I saw yesterday chirps with a big smile. “Same thing?”
My face burns bright red. “Yes.”
“The doctor will be right with you.”
“Thank you.” I turn to sit in one of the chairs, wanting nothing more than to plot how to trap her.
“You’ll be seeing a new doctor today, though. I hope that is alright,” the nurse casually announces.
Quirking my brow, I turn to him. “Why? I’d rather see the last doctor if you don’t mind. She is familiar with…my issue.” I tread carefully, not wanting everyone to know about my medical concerns.
“She didn’t come in. It’s weird. She hasn’t texted. It isn’t like her. The on-call doctor is here.”
“Oh, wow. I hope she’s okay. I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“Me too. She was sweet. She made coming to work easy, you know?”
I nod, understanding exactly what he means.
“I’d rather see the other doctor. I’ll come back later.” If I’m right about my monster, then my marks have to be from her. It’s the only thing that makes sense.
“I understand,” he says, bending down to place his elbows on the counter. “I know this is out of left field, but would you want to go out sometime? You’re cute. You have innocent eyes I want to corrupt.” His eyes roam up and down me.
“Uh, I’m flattered but I’m taken. I hope you have a good day.”
He pouts. “All the cute ones always are.” The chair he is in rolls directly in front of a computer. “Have a great day.”
I give him a wave, having to stop myself from skipping out of there. Granted, I’ve never skipped, but I do run into the fucking ‘automatic’ doors again.
“Mother fucker.” I rub my nose.
A small giggle sounds behind me and the flush from my cheeks spreads to the tip of my ears. When the doors open, I dash through them. My boots scuff against the pavement, the fog a giant phantom snake slithering throughout the parking lot.
There it is again. That feeling of being watched. A big smile spreads across my face, but I don’t think she wants to be close to me right now. I’ll keep my distance.
For now.
I climb into the driver’s seat and then hang out the door, studying the parking lot one last time. “I hope I see you soon. I look forward to it,” I announce, the words echoing between the trees.
Slamming the door, my cock plumps at the thought of her. Her skin is my favorite color, and her wings look so soft. I want to hold onto them while I fuck her from the back. Unless she doesn’t look that way at all.
I could be wrong and if I am, I’ll go get help to see why I want this so much that I’m imagining it.
The headlights pour through the dense fog as I drive to the main road. I’m no longer in auto-pilot. This revelation has zapped me with a bolt of energy. Did lightning strike me? Are all these marks because of a storm?
That would make sense too but it’s not nearly as fun.
This is so fucking wild.
I stop before taking a left onto the main road, noticing two figures in the depths of the fog. Rolling down my window, I shout to the hitchhikers, “Hey. Do you need a ride or anything?”
They stay hidden, keeping their faces turned away from me. “No, we are fine. Just taking a walk.”
An eerie energy has me on high alert.
I pat the side of the truck with my fingers. “Alright, then. Be safe.” I roll up my window. I’m not sure what is up with them, but they aren’t from around here.
Doesn’t mean they are bad people but there is a heaviness in the air surrounding me about them. I can’t stop glancing in the rearview. The two men are standing in the middle of the road, watching me until I can no longer see them.
They don’t sit right with me, and I can’t put my finger on why.
Pulling into Demi’s Diner for a to-go coffee, I keep the two newcomers in mind. If I come across Jake, maybe I’ll let him know.
Heading into Demi’s, the first person I see is Creed. He is sitting in the same booth he always sits at. Caden is coming out of the kitchen with a tray filled with plates of breakfast. Mickey isn’t here because she is very pregnant, but her brother Milo is and he is the one that greets me.
“Hey, man. Long time no see,” a bright smile stretches across his face.
“Hey,” My gaze darts over his shoulder to peek at Creed.
He’s so fucking weird. In a good way.
And in a bad way, let’s not fool ourselves.
Bringing my attention back to Milo, I yawn, covering my mouth with my hand. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been sleeping well. Can I get a large coffee to go?” I ask him, peering over his shoulder to spy on Creed.
He isn’t there.
“You still smell fucking terrible.”
I jump, slapping a hand to my chest. “Jesus, Creed. You scared the fuck out of me. Don’t you know not to sneak up on people?”
“Yes,” he states. “But I don’t care.”
“Of course, you don’t,” I grumble. I’m so not in the mood for him. I lift my arm to take a sniff. “I smell fine. Fucking sandalwood, asshole.”
“You do not smell like sandalwood.” He sniffs me but this time he makes a show, getting everyone’s attention.
With loud deep head turning inhales, Creed smells me from head to toe. A few people turn around in their booths, lifting their brows at us.
“Don’t mind him. He is being treated for his issues. It just takes time.” I give the patrons a quick smile and a wave, hoping it will get these spectators to look away.
“Don’t listen to him,” Creed growls, lifting his nose from my stomach to speak. “He reeks. I’m doing everyone a fucking favor.”
I slap him on the back of the head. “I do not reek. You’re being very rude and intrusive.”
He bites me.
He fucking bites me!
“Mother fucker!” I shove him in the chest, staring at the teeth punctures in my jeans. “You bit me.”
“You wouldn’t stop insulting me. I’m doing you a favor.” He lies down on the ground going as far as sniffing my damn shoes. “You stink. I don’t know what you stepped in, but as Mickey and Demi would say to one another, “Girlfriend, I hate to tell you this, but you smell.” He snaps his fingers, adding a bit of sass. “Or something like that.”
I roll my lips together to keep from laughing. “You do know they aren’t serious when they call each other that? It’s a joke, Creed.”
“Joke or not, the message works.”
“Here is your coffee.” The person who brings me my coffee isn’t Milo. It’s Caden.
Perfect.
“My God, Creed. Leave the man alone,” Caden states. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Yes. Right here. Wherever Demi is.”
“You can leave her side. She won’t blow up or anything.”
Creed sneers, inching closer to Caden. “No, she fucking won’t. Because I’m here.” He points at me, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t know if I like you. You do stink. Deal with it.” Creed marches to his usual booth, snarling at a customer who is simply trying to eat their breakfast.
“He makes my head hurt,” I grumble, only to see Creed flick me the middle finger while he drinks his own cup of coffee.
Damn, I forget he has advanced hearing.
“He makes all of our heads hurt. Don’t worry. It isn’t only you,” Caden explains, not paying attention to Creed’s murderous glare. “You okay? You seem…I don’t know. Different. You usually come in happy and chipper. All life is good and shit. Today, you have a cloud hanging over your head.”
“Maybe the cloud is from all the damn storms you keep here, Caden.” I take a sip of my coffee, and I can feel my morning demon slipping back into his slumber.
That’s better.
“Why don’t you say it louder for the customers in the back?” he whispers through a fake smile and clenched teeth since the bell rings from the door opening behind. “Hi, thank you for coming to Demi’s Diner. Please pick a seat and I’ll be with you shortly.”
The new customers take the booth in front of Creed and Caden points a finger at me. “Listen, Fitz,” he hisses a-matter-of-factly. “I know you think us monsters are happy all the time and you think we have no worries—”
“—I don’t—”
He lifts a finger to silence me. “—But we do. I’m a storm kitsune. I need the rain, the thunder, and lightning to power myself. Some days when it rains, it means I’m sad. I’m fucking sad, Fitz. I’m allowed to be sad. I can’t always control the rain when I get in these moods. So why don’t you stop thinking we are invincible and start seeing us as beings with actual feelings.”
“I’m sorry, Caden. Mostly my points of reference are Creed and Rhett. I do need to be more thoughtful. You’re right.” I take a longer swig of coffee so I can hide the embarrassment on my face. “Why are you sad? What’s going on?”
He waves my concern away. “I’m fine and it’s okay, Fitz. Rhett and Creed are your first experiences with the paranormal. I can understand why you think feelings work differently with us, especially with Creed.”
“He can hear us, you know.” I lower my voice in hopes Creed doesn’t come over and snap my neck. I just know he has been waiting to kill me.
“I know. I don’t care. I have this safety net called Demi, and you have a safety net called Rhett. It’s all the other people who need to be concerned. Granted, Rhett has more humanity. I think it varies from monster to monster. Kind of like humans, you know? They are varied. Some feel more deeply than others and some only have the capacity to only love one person. Demi is Creed’s one person. That’s it. That is who he has space for in the new form he was given. We—” he gestures a finger from me to him. “—Have the ability to care for others. “
“I’m an asshole,” I reply.
Shame is all I am drinking from this cup of coffee.
He shakes his head. “No, you aren’t. Creed is a dick, but we love him anyway.”
“You know I can hear you,” Creed shouts from his booth.
“Yeah, yeah,” Caden ignores him, leaning forward. “And he is right. You stink.”
“I don’t smell anything.” Milo comes out of nowhere, sniffing my shoulder.
I’m so tired of being sniffed.
“You smell fine to me. Like sandalwood.” Milo pats me on the back, heading to the booth filled with new customers.
“Just a hint,” Caden whispers. “The last time this happened was when Mickey got marked by Rhett. No one else could smell his scent but paranormals. If we are the only ones who can smell it, you have a paranormal in your life, my friend.”
“I don’t know who it is. Only Rhett, Creed, and you.”
“It isn’t us, obviously. Be on the lookout. You don’t know their plans for you.”
Oh, I have an idea what her plan is. The only thing I want is to be awake so I can enjoy all the fucking things she will do to me.