Page 89 of Wicked Wolves and Tangled Truths
His eyes narrow.
“You owe me and you fucking know it. You want me to stop hating you? You want Clan wolf to stop hating you for what you put us through the summer before junior year?”
His mouth presses into a sharp line and he gives me a single sharp nod.
“Then help me talk to her. She doesn’t feel comfortable with me.” He snorts and the urge to punch him in his smug face is strong, but I ignore it. “I care about her. I want to be there for her. Help me talk to her and I’ll forget what happened. We’ll wipe the slate clean.”
He considers this. It’s no secret I hate him. I’ve hated him since junior year. He used to be my friend. We were like brothers. All four of us. But then he had to go and fuck it all up. He broke faith. It’s not something I’d ever forgive but hell knows desperate times call for desperate fucking measures.
To get Isa back, I’ll do damn near anything.
“You’d do that? Forget what happened?” He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Forget what I did, and all I have to do is get Isa to talk to you.”
I nod.
“I can’t make any promises.”
“I don’t need promises or assurances. I just need a chance. One chance to make this right.”
“Okay.”
I exhale a breath. “Okay.”
39
Isa
Rafael calls me now. All of the Hellbound High wolves do. Jordy sends me a joke each morning. Or a funny meme he found online. He wants to make me smile. And while I appreciate the gesture, it’s a lot to take in. The sudden shift in their behaviors.
One second they hate me. Now it’s like they’re smothering me in distant affection.
Desmond is the only one I talk to at school. He sometimes walks me to class when Zheng isn’t around. He makes sure no one gets too close. I didn’t ask him to play guard dog, and when I told him as much, he just gave me this serious stare and carried on like I hadn’t said anything. I’ve learned not to push. If he wants to make himself late to class each day, that’s his prerogative.
Rafael messages me each morning. A variation ofgood morning, beautiful, and calls me every night. I don’t respond to the texts and never answer the calls. He doesn’t leave any voicemails which is probably for the best. Hearing his voice at school is bad enough. If he left me messages, I know myself well enough to know I’d replay them again and again, obsessing over the sound of his voice. Trying to peel back any hidden meaning. It’s already what I do with his texts. Sometimes he adds an emoji and it’s enough to leave me guessing, hoping. For what, I’m not really sure.
But without fail at nine o’clock each evening my phone lights up and his name flashes across the screen. A part of me has come to look forward to that phone call. When eight fifty nears, I start counting down the minutes, hoping he’ll call, and that alone scares me. Because sooner or later, he’s going to give up. He’ll stop calling. He’ll stop texting. And he’ll move on. I want him to move on.
I can’t afford to need anyone else in my life. I’ve lost too much, and I don’t think my heart can take any more. It doesn’t matter that I miss him or that his presence sets my heart racing.
What happens when he’s no longer there?
I’m already dreading when the calls stop.
It’s been a week since he found out about the brutal attacks. A week of pretending I don’t want him. Of trying to convince myself that I’m better off without him. But I’m slipping.
I catch myself staring at him when he’s not looking. And I hang onto every word Des says whenever he mentions Rafael. How he’s doing. Where he’s at. What they’re eating for lunch. It’s borderline obsessive and I know it, but I’m desperate to know every little detail.
Zheng has mentioned him a few times, too, which was surprising at first. He’s always made it clear how he feels about Rafael. I know they have history, and while I’m curious, I also know it’s none of my business. But even he’s tried to convince me to talk to Rafael. To at least hear him out. He thinks it’d be cathartic for me. And maybe it would be. But….
“Hey, Isa?” A hesitant voice calls out and I turn away from my locker to find Jordy standing a few feet away. He mashes his lips together, his eyes on the ground near my feet. “You doing okay?”
“Hey. Umm, yeah. How are you?” I glance around the hallway, class will be starting soon.
He shrugs and looks up, giving me a small smile. “I’m good. I, uh…” He trails off and looks away. “I wanted to try something. If you’re okay with it?”
I nod and brace myself.
Jordy takes a step closer before dropping to his knees. He turns his head to the side exposing his neck.What?
