Page 45 of Just Dare Me
He frowns with concern. “No.”
“Then what? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t want to…” He gestures at my mangled hip and then my neck, which feels like it’s on fire. “Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Yes.” I step into him, burying my face in his neck to hide fresh tears. With obvious relief he melts around me, clutching at my back and burying a hand in my hair. Everywhere he touches me sends pain shooting through my body, but I don’t care. Just like I don’t care that this isn’t the way I’d envisioned our rushing-into-each-other’s-arms happily-ever-after moment. All that matters is that it’s happening. The days, the steps, the number of breaths until we’re back together—they’ve all been counted.
But just to be sure, I ask, “You’re free now? You can stay?”
His lips mumble against my forehead. “That’s right. I’m not the prize anymore. No one needs me now but you.”
A sad smile plays at the corners of my mouth. How have I survived months without hearing this shit? “I love that you would say that.”
“I love that you would love that.”
“I’m too easy.”
“I told you.”
When a cold shiver travels up my spine and rattles my shoulders, Jay tries to pull away. I hold him tight. “Don’t. Not yet.”
“I brought your clothes.” He drapes my Tigers jacket across my shoulders and rubs my back to warm me up. My wounded leg is starting to ache. I need to take my weight off of it. But I don’t want to move.
“Danny and Charlotte?”
“Fine.”
“Charlotte was fine?”
“No.”
“Right? She’s mad at me?”
“I don’t think she knows what to feel. She looked like you just now. Totally out of it.”
“She’s mad at me. She thinks I should’ve shot Tabitha instead.”
“I think we have other things to worry about right now. Look.” He steps back and turns me around to see a mix of coyotes and foxes—my family—standing far off in the woods, watching us. “I should go,” he says.
I pull him into my side. “No.”
“But look at them. They won’t come near me.”
“It’s not you, Jay. It’s me. Something happened. When Little Bunica…when it was all over, something went out of her and into me. I felt it. Istillfeel it.”
“Dominance,” Jay guesses correctly. “Are you saying they’re afraid of you?”
“Maybe not afraid. More confused. Come here.” Holding his hand, I kneel down beside Bunica’s body and bow my head. Jay does the same. From the corner of my eye, I see my family advance, but with caution. They follow Nolan’s lead, circling around us once, then approaching from the opposite side of Bunica.
Mom shifts first. With tears flowing, she kneels beside the mound of gray fur. She reaches out to touch the top of Bunica’s head, but then she pulls her hand back and looks at me. I wasn’t expecting her sudden eye contact, and now I’m held in the grip of her gaze. We haven’t acknowledged each other since the day I quit the pack and kicked dirt at her feet. The memory makes my heart ache.
“You feel her dominance?” she asks.
I’m so surprised she would talk to me that it takes a moment to compose this detailed response: “Yes.”
“You’ve been feeling it ever since she shifted?”
Her words slap me upside the head with a huge DUH. Why hadn’t I connected those dots? Right after Bunica shifted, we went to the dog shelter, where Muppet acted scared of me. I remember thinking how strange it was that a dog—any dog—would be afraid of me. The kennel worker had said labradoodles were an especially sensitive breed. I don’t explain all this, of course. I only repeat simply, “Yes.”
