Page 3 of Spike

I stood before the mirror in the bathroom, a stranger staring back at me—frightened and pale.

A denim jacket hung loosely over my shoulders, the fabric offering little comfort against the chill in the room.

Straightening the jacket, I took a deep breath before shouldering a backpack that contained all of my life's belongings.

In my transient existence, I didn't own much; living out of my car dictated that less was indeed best.

Last night had been a blur. I remembered being ushered into the noisy pack house, Jack smiling way too broadly at me.

Chugging down that evening's dinner—stew and bread—a warm shower, and finally collapsing on a warm and wonderful bed.

Jack hadn't made any unwanted advances towards me, and I counted that as a blessing. He hadn't asked me a lot of questions either.

The simplicity of the interaction felt like a respite, giving me a space to breathe in this unfamiliar territory, but now it was time to go.

"You can do this," I whispered to myself.

I gave my new room a final glance. For the first time in my life, I had four walls and the protection of a pack.

I didn’t need to worry about the cold anymore, but in hindsight, I realized I could live without these comforts.

Honestly, I couldn't put a finger on why every instinct in my body urged me to leave, but Jack's grin lingered in my mind.

There seemed to be some sinister edge to it. Was my mind playing tricks on me? On hindsight, he had to want something else from me... right?

Doubt gnawed at the edges of my thoughts, leaving me uneasy and questioning the true nature of the warmth Jack had extended.

Perhaps I shouldn't have come here, shouldn't have been so quick to believe in the assurances of a complete stranger. It wasn't too late to correct my mistake.

I pushed open the door, half expecting Jack to have sent his buddies to keep a close eye on me.

Relief washed over me as I glanced down the corridor and found it empty. With purpose in my stride, I walked, silently hoping to avoid any encounters with the other wolves.

I couldn't bring myself to refer to them as my pack mates just yet. I had only arrived the night before, and aside from Jack, I knew no one.

Perhaps there were good people among them, but I wasn't planning to stay long enough to find out.

I groaned as I made a wrong turn into a familiar corridor. I'd been here before, I realized.

Two women chatting nearby paused from their conversation to give me a scrutinizing look. I quickly turned away and pretended I knew where I was going.

After some trial and error, I finally found myself looking at a familiar foyer. The front door lay beyond.

Tugging my backpack strap, I started for it, but a lofty voice stopped me cold.

"Leaving so soon?" someone asked.

"Don't turn around, keep walking," I told myself, reaching for the door handle.

Then a hand landed on my shoulder.

"Hey, I asked you a question."

Immediately, I felt cornered. I slowly turned around to face the speaker. It wasn't Jack, but the red-haired towering giant was one of the buddies Jack introduced to me the night before.

His name was either Clive or Chris, I thought.

"Well, I figured I could go outside for a walk," I replied, glad my voice came out even. "You're... Clive, right? Jack's best friend?"

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