Chapter 17 The Box
That evening I couldn't settle. Every time I picked up my book, I found myself staring at the same page. My thoughts kept circling back to the library. To Jackson.
My cat paced inside me just as restless, impatient and loud. I hadn’t let her out in over a week. That was on me, and she had reached her limit.
I pulled on loose shorts and an old tank, laced up my sneakers, and slipped out the back door.
The night air hit cold enough that my breath fogged in front of me.
I crossed the yard and stepped into the treeline, walking until the house lights disappeared behind the trees.
Once I was deep enough, I stripped, set the clothes aside, and exhaled.
The shift came easy. Bones reshaped under my skin, fur rippled outward in a dark wave, and my cat stretched hard into the new body. She surged forward with a low, delighted growl and shook out her coat.
Then she ran.
Pine needles softened under her paws. The night air cut crisp and clean around her as she vaulted a downed log, cleared a narrow stream, and cut hard between two close oaks just for the pure thrill of the speed.
The tightness in my chest loosened with every stride.
It felt good to let her run. She had earned it.
After a few minutes, the cat slowed, then stopped at the edge of a clearing. Her head lifted, nose working the air.
Jackson.
His scent was faint but unmistakable. Woodsmoke, pine, and that particular warmth she had catalogued since their first meeting in these woods. Her interest sharpened. She was about to follow it when something else caught her eye.
A large cardboard box sat in the middle of the clearing, like someone had simply set it down and walked away.
Jackson was forgotten.
She padded forward and circled the box slowly, nose pressed to every corner and seam. Then she backed up a few steps, wiggled her butt, and launched herself inside.
She landed, turned once, then sprang back out as though the box had bitten her. She stared at it, tail flicking, then launched herself in again. Out. In. Out. Each jump faster and more committed than the last.
This is beneath you.
She finally stayed inside. The walls pressed in on all sides, a perfect fit. She stood up, back brushing the top flap, and turned in a tight circle. A deep, satisfied purr rumbled through her chest.
You absolute child.
Then the real fun began.
She jumped back out, rounded on the box, and attacked the flaps first, grabbing one in her teeth and yanking it backward.
Cardboard tore with a satisfying rip. She batted the loose flap across the clearing, watched it skid, and immediately went back for more.
She shredded the corners, peeled long strips from the walls, and eventually dismantled the floor from the outside, hind legs kicking furiously as she worked.
When she was done, the box was a scattered pile of cardboard confetti across the clearing.
She sat in the wreckage, one paw resting on a torn strip, looking extremely pleased with herself.
...I’m not cleaning this up.
That was when she noticed the black wolf.
He stood at the treeline, massive and still, a dark shape against the darker woods. It looked like he'd been there for a long time, watching her destroy the box. His posture held no threat. More like quiet amusement.
My cat looked at him without startling or backing away. She flicked her tail once, then gave a small, deliberate tip of her head. Come here.
The wolf stepped out of the shadows, moonlight catching along the ridge of his back. He approached slowly, giving her space, letting her decide. When he stopped about ten feet away, those pale eyes never left her.
After a moment, she stepped over the cardboard wreckage, stretched, and padded over to him. She stopped just in front of him, nose twitching as she took in his scent. Then she rose onto her hind legs and bumped her head against his jaw.
His tail started wagging.
Well. Someone was happy.
For a moment they just stood there, close enough to share breath, noses almost touching. Then she twisted away hard and bolted, a streak of golden fur cutting through the trees. He gave chase without hesitation.
They ran hard. She darted between tight gaps and under low branches, using her agility.
He powered through open stretches, closing the distance with raw strength.
She would pull ahead, then slow just enough for him to catch up, brushing against his side before darting away again.
They chased each other in wide loops, splashed through shallow streams, and vaulted fallen logs together.
It looked like play, but it didn't feel that simple.
Eventually they circled back to where I'd left my clothes, both breathing hard. She gave her coat a vigorous shake. The wolf lowered his head and licked her ear once, slow and possessive.
Then we shifted.
I pulled on the shorts and tank, shoved my feet into the sneakers, and looked over at him.
He stood a careful distance away, both hands cupped low, his hair disordered and steam rising off his shoulders in the cold air.
Broad chest still rising and falling. Heavy shoulders.
The flat line of his stomach, muscle shifting with each breath.
Steam curled off his skin, making him look half-real in the moonlight.
He was a sight. He had to know it.
When I looked back up, he was watching me with an expression I couldn't quite read.
“You followed me,” I said.
He shook his head once. “No. I was already here.”
“Why?”
He was quiet for a beat. “I thought you might come out tonight. I didn’t want you out here alone.”
“I’m always out here alone.”
“I know,” he said. “That’s the problem.”
My gaze slipped, tracing the line of his collarbone and over the broad plane of his chest, lower still. I caught myself and looked away before he noticed.
“Harper… it’s dangerous right now.” He took a small step closer. “Two people are dead.”
My gaze snapped back to him. So they had found Richard.
I kept my face blank. “Two people?”
“They found another body this morning. Richard Calloway. Same neighborhood. Same… style.”
I let my expression show the right amount of surprise. “I hadn’t heard.”
Jackson’s voice softened. “I don’t want anything happening to you.”
I looked past him into the trees, needing something else to focus on. Somewhere out there was the wreckage of a large cardboard box.
"You always bring boxes into the forest?"
"Only when I think they'll be appreciated," he said.
“You’re strange.”
He shrugged, eyes soft.
My cat kept trying to close the distance. I refused to let her.
I adjusted the strap of my tank and took a small step back. "I should head back."
He nodded once. “Goodnight, Harper.”
“Goodnight, Jackson.”
I turned and walked into the trees. A few minutes later I felt him moving through the woods behind me, keeping his distance. He didn’t come close. He didn’t make a sound. He simply followed, a silent shadow making sure I got home safely.
He’s protecting me from the killer.
The irony burned.
I let myself in through the back door, locked it, and went to my bedroom. I dropped onto the edge of the bed and reached for my phone on the nightstand.
Three texts from Cassidy, all in the last hour.
Cassidy: omg did you see the news
Cassidy: they found a body in town. another one. ppl are saying its the same person
And twenty minutes later:
Cassidy: also apparently there was a witness this time??
I read the last line twice. Then a third time.
My cat, purring moments earlier, went completely still.
A witness.
Did someone see me?
I sat on the edge of the bed in the dark and made myself breathe. Once. Slow. Then again. Then I reached for my laptop.