Page 18 of Bad Wolf

“Hi, oh wow, you came back,”Hope’s shrill voice alerts me to the fact that someone is in the club in the daytime, which rarely happens.

I continue to evaluate what’s best for my new set as it all needs to be run by the stage manager, that dreaded song now dead and buried, when I hear, “Do you know where I can find Wren, uh, I mean Raven?” A voice I haven’t heard in what feels like a lifetime echoes down the corridor.

“Oh yes right, well she’s just through there. You’re lucky, we’re not always here on a weekday. Let me take you.”

“No that’s okay, we’ll manage, is she alone or…”

“Oh yes, she’s by herself as always,” Hope says, making me cringe. Honestly, could I be any more of a loser?

“I see. Well, thanks then.”

Footfall sounds closer. I think I make out two sets of steps and look around the tiny room I’m in. There isn’t even a window in here I can jump out of, and I know there’s no escape when the doorway fills.

It’s actually comical that someone can be so tall and wide that they fill that kind of space. And it’s not just this one. It’s all of them. All the Maddens are built like this except for Coralie, she’s just as gorgeous though.

“Can we come in?” Casey asks.

I tentatively nod and he’s followed by Coralie and Scott, who always intimidated me more than the rest.

“Yes. Let me, let me just move these,” I say as I collect up the scattered lace bras and satin corsets I was sorting through, and motion to the tiny red couch.

“That’s okay, we’ll stand,” he says, probably knowing that the thing would crumple under his size.

“So that was a shock seeing you the other night, Wren. How long have you been in Miami?” Casey’s tone is even but guarded.

“My dad drove us here the day after the, umm, party.” I lower my eyes unable to make contact with theirs, and I let them do the calculations for themselves.

“And college?” Scott clips out.

“I’m enrolled in a few online courses at Florida State.” There’s no way I’m telling them I didn’t even end up going.

His eyes narrow like he’s trying to read my mind and Casey just nods.

“What trouble are you in, Wren?” Coralie asks, but the softness I remember in her voice has been replaced by wariness.

“I’m not,” I answer far too quickly.

Always defensive. Always ashamed. Always too prideful. Scott shakes his head at me, not liking the lie.

“Well, technically I am, but it’s notmytrouble.”

“Is it drugs?” Coralie asks.

At least it’s a question and not an assumption, but three sets of blue eyes still do a full body scan, I suspect looking for a tell that will give me away.

They won’t find one. The thought of losing control like that, chemically altering the way I feel, however low I can get sometimes, would never be worth losing myself like that.

“No, never,” I tell them vehemently.

“Debt.” Scott, blunt as ever, hits the nail on the head. Jesus, all that’s missing is a goddam swinging lamp, the kind you’d find in a dingy CIA cell or something.

I do shake my head though, “Not mine.”

More nodding, more trying to work out if I’m lying or not. These two boys, well men now, standing in front of me, have only ever been kind and protective. Casey and Coralie were three grades above, and Scott two.

This cold façade they have on isn’t really them, and it’s obvious they just want to know what the hell happened to me. The fact that even Coralie is cautious makes my stomach roll.

You never hurt a Madden though. That shit list might as well be etched in blood with how they all stick together, and no doubt my name is unlined. And how do I know this key piece of information? Well, we all go way back. Scott and I the furthest.

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