Page 37 of Save Me Enemy

There's no one in the halls this time as I descend the stairs, and I can hear Killian and Jax in the kitchens talking loudly about how I’m dying. I cover my ears and push out the front door. I’m haunted by my illness, surrounded by it. Why can’t I just be normal?

There's a station wagon out front, and someone is bent over the passenger side seat looking for something. I storm up to the car and knock on the roof loudly, and the woman is so startled by me that she hits her head on the ceiling of the vehicle and curses.

“Have you been sending me notes?” I demand.

The woman turns around and I stagger back a step, stunned.

It’s Catherine, the cook.

“Yes, dear, that was me…” she says, rubbing the back of her head.

I feel bad that I made the sweet old lady hurt her head, but if she really is sending these notes then she isn’t so sweet after all is she?

“Why would you do that? How could you be so mean? I have so much on my mind and now I might die before I have this kid or he’ll die with me after he’s born and that in itself is too much to handle! Why would you dangle false hope in front of me if the pack healers can't even do anything?”

Catherine blushes, stepping back from me as I shout at her, having the decency to look abashed.

“It’s not false hope, honey…” she says, trying to soothe me. She reaches out to stroke my arm but I shy away. She nods, understanding, and wrings her hands as she looks all around and tries to find a way to explain things. “I know a scientist, Cricket. He’s been working miracles… He told me he knows how to fix you. How could I just let that go? I had to tell you! I don’t want you to die!”

My heart stops. That sounds real, that sounds possible… I look over my shoulder at the house and bit my lip.

“Come with me, dear, we can go now. I’ll take you to him and he can start treatment. I know it will work, I just know it!” Catherine grabs my elbow and steers me towards the seat. I try to pull away, but doubt tugs at me. “Give me a chance, dear. You can trust me.”

I look into her eyes, wrinkled with age, eyes glassy with unshed tears. She really wants to help, I can feel it. “What about Jax?” I ask as I slip into the car.

“Don’t worry about him, dear, he’s so busy arguing with the Doc. He won't go looking for you for some time. When he does, I’m sure we’ll be back already with wonderful news.” She closes my door and hurries around the car, looking at the house nervously before she takes her seat across from me and slowly pulls away from the house.

When it’s out of view she sighs heavily and her shoulders relax.

“How do you know this scientist?” I ask her, nervous energy making me grip my hands in my lap.

Catherine smiles fondly as she recounts her memories. “Oh, I met him a long time ago, back when Evelyn and I were children. We went to the same school, all twelve years. He was an amazing friend. He’s gone on to do great things while I became Evelyn’s cook…” There's bitterness in her voice at the end, and something tells me that isn’t the job she wished she had.

The ride is quiet after that, so Catherine puts on some soothing music. Instead of taking me to the highway she takes a side road that winds through the mountains. Before too long the stress of the day starts to settle in and my eyes start to drift closed. I set my head on the glass, sweltering in this summer heat, and fall asleep.

Hoping, dreaming, that there’s a way for me to live.

I wake some time later when I feel the car roll to a stop. I sit up, rubbing my eyes, and look around. There's a small cabin in front of us, garbage and various metal scrap piled all around it.

“A scientist lives here?” I mumble.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover, dear,” Catherine says and smiles, but her lips twitch nervously. “He’s expecting us, we should go in…”

The door to the cabin opens and a man steps out, his face veiled in shadow. I sit up a little straighter, conscious of how desperate I am. I have no idea where I am or who this is, but I came here willingly. I came here on the slim chance that he can save me.

He steps closer, and although his face is still in shadow, I register the name tag on his shirt.

Corey.

My eyes flash to Catherine, and there parked beside her is Chase’s stolen motorcycle.

“Catherine, what is this?” I shriek, trying the handles, but she locks them quickly.

“He’s not supposed to be here!” she says quietly, her hands clenching the steering wheel over and over.

The fear in her voice makes my blood run cold.

“Cricket! Little bug! Looks like the cat brought the prey back to me!” His grin is so full of evil, his hands clenching and unclenching as he stalks towards the car and tries the handle. “Open the door, Cat, share your prize!”

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