Outsider (Outsider Series) (26 page)

“To my room,” he said.

I couldn’t help the blush that flooded my cheeks. “Does your mom and Gram know about this?”

“Mom knows,” he said and then grinned wickedly. “And what Lucinda doesn’t know won’t kill her.”

I laughed at that. “You’re probably right. I think it’ll take a lot to kill her.”

“I agree completely. She’s tough as nails.” He turned down the left hallway and then stopped in front of
a
door
. He put his hand on the knob and said, “Promise not to laugh?”

“I won’t laugh,” I said rolling my eyes.

“Promise?” he smirked.

“I promise,” I said.

He swung the door open, turned the light on, and said softly,
almost shyly,
“This is my room.”

The walls were a blue gray color that instantly calmed me. He had a queen size
bed pushed against one wall;
it was
dark
wood with a high headboard with spindles
and four posts
.
The posts at the bottom of the bed were shorter than the ones at the headboard though. His sheets were
a medium gray color and the quilt that covered his bed was various shades of gray and blue.
The window beside his bed overlooked the backyard and the left window overlooked the side yard. There was one door that I assumed was his closet, the one we came through, and a third door that I assumed to be an attached bath.

A couple of guitars hung on the wall, along with what looked like a violin, and ukulele. The floor was covered in a squishy white shag carpet that felt heavenly against my feet. Several bean bags chairs littered the floor in front of a
flat screen T.V. I could see an
Xbox and PlayStation. Boys and their games, I thought to myself. His dresser matched his bed and the top of it was surprisingly neat. Even his bedside table wasn’t cluttered. His bedside lamp made me laugh. It was a bulldog wearing headphones with a gray shade. I noticed the light on his dresser was a stick figure playing guitar. A dear head made out of twine hung above his bed. An aged wood mirror hung above his dresser.
What looked like an old
work bench
sat in the corner serving as a desk. The top of it was littered with a
pieces of paper covered in blac
k ink and in the midst of it sat a very sleek looking laptop. I suppressed a chuckle when I saw the mini fridge beside the desk. Various wall art was hung about, intermixed with sports trophies and pictures of Caeden as a child.

I saw one of Caeden, fishing with his
dad;
he held his catch proudly in the air displaying his missing front teeth. There
was a picture of Caeden holding a newborn Bryce. Another showed Caeden dressed as Superman and Bryce as Batman as they posed on the porch steps. There was a picture of just their dad setting up a tent, his smile was much like Caeden’s, but his
eyes
were a deep rich brown. One picture that made me smile was of their dad, Caeden, and Bryce all lined up in a row playing golf, all were in the same pose. Arms swung back, club in the air, and foot crossed watching to see where the ball would land. There was another one where Caeden was rolling around in the sand at the beach trying to fend off Murphy’s massive tongue.

I turned back to look at him taking in all that made up his room, made him, and smiled.

“Do you like it?” he asked sheepishly. “I think my mom might have gone a little crazy at Pottery Barn.”

“I love it,” I said, “it’s very you.”

He laughed and
looked
around. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“I like how you have pictures of your family out. It’s nice,” I said.

“You can’t forget my friends,” he said pointing to a recent picture of the pack that looked like it had been taken over the summer. They all smiled goofily as the ice cream they held ran down their fingers in sticky rivulets. He looked at me. “I need to get a picture of you up here,” he said.

“Oh no,” I said, “no pictures.”

“Oh, yes,” he said wrapping his hands around my waist and kissed my cheek. “I have to a have a picture of my girl.”

“How about this, you can have a picture when I’m not covered in bruises, deal?” I suggested.

“That sounds fair,” he said and moved towards the third door. He opened it and sure enough it was a Jack and Jill bathroom. “There are towels and wash cloths under the sink
and so are spare toothbrushes
.
”
He looked in the shower and smiled shyly, “I don’t think you want my and Bryce’s guy smelling stuff so I’ll go see if I can borrow something from my mom. I’ll be right back,” he said.

I proceeded into the bathroom, avoiding the mirror at all costs,
and turned on the shower getting it nice and hot. I had just pulled out a towel and cloth when he returned with various shampoos and body washes. He dumped them on the counter and then went to the other door that led to another room. “Bryce,” he called. I heard a mutter from inside and then Caeden said, “I just wanted to let you know that Sophie’s using the shower so please don’t break the door down.” Another grunt and Caeden closed the door. “Little brothers,” he muttered. He looked around the bathroom obviously embarrassed. “I’ll… uh… leave you to it,” he cleared his throat, “Take your time and I’ll find you something to wear.”

“Okay,” I said. “And thanks.”

He kissed me quickly on the cheek and then closed the door behind him.

Everything in the bathroom was an updated black and white look. Much like the kitchen below. I grabbed a bottle of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash and placed it inside the steamy glass shower. I stripped my clothes and threw them in the trash can. I never wanted to see that outfit again. I climbed in the shower and flinched at the feel of the water beating down on my sore body. Instead of healing it was hurting. Silent tears leaked out of my eyes at the pain. It was a miracle I didn’t have any broken bones. I began gently scrubbing the dirt and grime from my body. The water that s
wirled down the drain was brown and red
and nearly made me sick.
It took me forever to wash the dirt and tangles from my hair. My hair felt like one big rat’s nest. Finally satisfied that I smelled decent and didn’t resemble a sewer person I climbed out of the shower.

Upon hearing the shower cut off Caeden knocked on the door. “I found some clothes and my mom gave me a hairbrush,” he said through the thick wood.

I made sure the towel was secured tightly around my torso before opening the door. His eyes glazed over when he saw me. “I know,” I said, “I still look horrible.”

“You’re beautiful,” he said, “you always are.”

“Even when I’ve been strapped to a table and tortured?” I asked
softly
.

“Even then,” he said. “Oh, here,” he said handing me the clothes.

“Thanks,” I said, “I won’t be long.”

I closed the door again. He had brought me a pair of his old boxers and a gray t-shirt. I found myself inhaling the scent of him that wafted off the shirt. A slight smile lifted my lips. Even his scent was perfect. I was thankful for the hairbrush and set to work brushing out the clump of hair.

I was still shocked by my appearance in the mirror but I knew it couldn’t be half as bad as what I looked like before. My body was littered with bruises. I resembled a human punching bag. And speaking of bags, the ones under my eyes were the size of Alaska. My lip had a cut in it that was blistering around the corners. And there was no hiding the emblazoned,
Liar
, on my arm. It shone like a beacon. I quickly worked out the tangles in my hair as exhaustion started to take over.

After I brushed my teeth
I opened the bathroom door and turned off the light.
Caeden was stretched out across his bed in sweat pants and a Cage the Elephant t-shirt. He was strumming his guitar and humming to himself. He put the guitar down and opened up his arms. “Come on baby,” he said, “you’re home now.”

I crushed myself in his arms. He held me closely but still hesitantly. “Oh Caeden,” I cried. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

His hands tenderly stroked my hair. “When I got back…” he choked on his words. “When I got back to the store and you were gone and I saw the mess… I just knew it was them. I had wondered at the other set of tire marks but it didn’t click with me until I came inside and you were gone. Normally, I can contain my wolf but I was so scared for you that I shifted right there in the store and ran out the back. Imagine the people who saw a wolf running down the road? Thank God it had snowed and many people weren’t out. I called the others and then we had to meet with the council. It’s against our laws to attack another pack without just cause. I was furious. The Grimm’s had you and I had to sit around and wait for council approval. It was maddening. Finally we got approval but then were faced with the problem of finding you. We had no idea where you could be. But Archie knew. It’s a miracle you already found your familiar. Without him I don’t think we would have ever found you but I would have never stopped searching. I can promise you that. I would have searched for you until I was old and gray.”

I snuggled closer to him. “I believe you. But I didn’t want you to find me.”

“Why?” he asked puzzled.

I traced
the wrinkle in his brow. “Because they were using me to get to you. They were going to kill you. I could take anything
they
dealt me if it meant you were alive. It was worth it as long as your heart kept beating,” I said putting my hand over his steadily beating heart to reaffirm my point. “Would you not have felt the same?”

He sighed. “When you put it that way I would’ve felt exactly the same.”

I cupped his face with my right hand. “I love you,” I said.

“I love-,” and then he stopped. He grabbed my arm and sat up so that I was sitting in his lap. He held my arm out. “What is this?” he asked angrily.

I rubbed at the letters like I could erase them. I couldn’t though. “Travis,” I whispered fearing his anger.

“Why?” he practically growled. He gently traced the word with his finger but it still sent a shiver of pain up my spine.

“Because I lied,” I said simply. “I told him that I was really adopted, which of course I’m not, and he didn’t believe it. So, he did this,” I said holding up my arm.

“I hate that they did this to you,” he whispered.

“What’s done is done,” I said.

“Maybe…” he said, “maybe not.”

“What do you mean?” I asked puzzled.

“Well…” he said thoughtfully. “In the legends mates could always heal one another. I don’t know how it’s done but I can try,” he said. “It should be instinctual. I was just scared to try in front of the others,” he said looking down at the comforter in shame, “in case it didn’t work.”

“I understand,” I said. “But try. Please,” I begged.

“Okay,” he said his hands fluttering around my body like a spastic bird. “Um… lay down.”

“Alright,” I said climbing off of his lap and stretching out on his bed.

“Okay… Concentrate… you can do this…” he muttered to himself. He closed his eyes and a wrinkle formed in his brow. Suddenly his hands began to glow.

“Wow,” I murmured. “Amazing,” I added when his hands began to glide over my cuts, scrapes, and bruises. Not only did his hands heal me but his breath did too. He would breathe on
an injury and it would disappear just as quickly as it did with his hands.
The healing process accelerated right before my eyes. Cuts sealed, scabbed over, and then disappeared altogether. Bruises rapidly changed colors and then faded to a healthy pink. His finger skimmed my lip and I felt the split seal and be replaced by healthy pink tissue.

Last he came to the word,
Liar
, engraved into my skin. It tu
rned to a faded white, shimmery
scar
,
but would not disappear beyond that. I watched sweat break out on Caeden’s brow as he concentrate
d
. The light flared brighter and still it stayed. He removed his hand and leaned down, as if
to kiss it, and breathed on it like he had with some of my other injuries. Nothing.

He sat back and looked at me. “It’s okay,” I said.

“No it’s not,” he groaned. “I can heal everything but this, why?”

“I don’t know,” I said and cupped his cheek with my hand. “But I don’t care. You healed everything else and I feel amazing. This,” I said looking at my arm, “is nothing.”

“It’s everything,” he said.

I bit my lip to hold back tears. I sat up and looked him in the eye. “Does it bother you that much? Are you grossed out by a scar? Do you… do you see me differently now? Am I forever marred in your eyes? What is it? Why does it bother you so much?” I demanded.

His eyes were full of hurt. He gently traced my jaw. “I could never see you differently no matter what. You could be covered in burns from head to toe and you’d still be the most beautiful woman in the world to me. What bothers me
is knowing
that Travis did this to you and that it will be forever imprinted on your body. A sickening reminder of what they did to you. That’s what bothers me.”