Wolf's Girl Ch. 02

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After her final shift and after a trip to the next town over, the one with the big, semi-anonymous supermarket, Mack rushed home with the test kit hidden at the bottom of her bag. Her parents were both out, thank god, so she rushed straight to the hallway bathroom on the upper floor.

A few moments later, she had her answer. She stared in shock at the cheerful little blue plus sign looking back up at her.

Panic overrode all other emotions. Her heart pounded as she hastily wrapped the used test in a wad of tissue and tucked it into the trash can. She had so many questions and no answers. She considered the merits of telling her family it was some random guy. Giles could be left out of this entirely. She'd have to tell Giles, of course. She wouldn't keep a secret like this from him. Not that she could. He'd know as soon as word got back to him that she was pregnant.

She imagined herself raising this child alone. Could she do it? Mack suddenly found her thoughts drifting to cute baby clothes and toys and... a child to love. Not just any child – Giles' child. Mack's worry melted just a little, leaving enough room for a small smile.

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She waited until after dinner and told her family she had to go see a friend. If they thought her behavior was odd, they didn't comment on it. It was nearly 9:00 PM by the time she pulled up to Giles' cabin.

Mack frowned. She had a sense that something was wrong. His truck was parked at an odd angle. All of the lights were off, except for one lamp visible through the window. She kicked something in the dark – a beer can went scuttling.

She knocked. If he didn't want to see her, she wouldn't press it. He'd just have to find out later. "Giles?"

There was no answer.

Mack turned the knob and opened the door slowly. "Giles? I just need to talk. Are you there?"

She heard a soft grunt come from the chair in the living area. Giles was slumped in it. Mack turned on the bigger light and he blocked his eyes with his arm.

"Ow, fuck. Turn that off."

She didn't. Mack now saw that Giles hadn't shaved in quite a while, possibly since her last visit. He had a full beard now. The dark circles framed his reddened eyes.

"Giles, we have to talk. It's important." She hesitated, then asked, "Are you drunk?"

"Just a little." Giles held up the bottle of whiskey that had been dangling from his hand and assessed the amount remaining. A little of the amber liquid sloshed in the bottom. "It's hard for me to get real drunk. Werewolf."

Mack dropped her gaze. Seeing him like this was painful. "Maybe I should come back."

"No, no," Giles answered, waving his arm. "Go on, say what you have to say."

Mack folded her arms and frowned. "No, not like this. I'll come back another time."

"Don't bother."

"What?" Mack stared at him. He'd never said anything to hurt her before. Surely he didn't mean it the way she'd heard it?

"I won't be here."

Mack's brows furrowed. Her heart rate sped up as she began to panic just a little. "What do you mean?"

"I can't stay here. Can't stay in this stupid town, with my stupid sister, and my stupid life."

She put her hands on her hips. She felt tears starting but she willed herself not to cry. "So you're just leaving?"

Giles stared blankly at the bottle, considering it. "S'what I said."

Mack's need to cry was quickly turning to hot anger. She was furious with him. "Stop it. It's just the alcohol talking. You don't know what you're saying. This isn't you."

Giles finally looked at her. He squinted, then laughed. "Girl, you don't know who the hell I am."

Mack had never before had the urge to smack sense into someone but she did right this moment. Taking a deep breath, she walked over and sat down next to him on the floor. "I'm not walking out of here with you like this. I can't. Whatever else you are to me, you're my friend."

"Would you cut that shit out, Macks?" Giles snapped back at her. "You put me on this pedestal like I'm some kind of perfect god. I'm not. I can't live up to your image of me."

Mack's mouth twitched. That one hurt. "Is that what this is? Your using the fact that I – " she almost added the words 'love you', but right now was not the time for that confession. "– see you as a good person as an excuse to be... like this? That doesn't make sense."

"Makes perfect sense."

Mack didn't know what to say. Nothing she could say right now would put him in his right mind. Silence settled over the room.

"I killed him."

Mack looked up at his face. Giles wore a haunted expression. She was almost scared to ask: "Who?"

"My father." Giles' tongue was loose now. He let out a sigh. "He was a mean son-of-a-bitch, my old man. Meaner drunk. He used to beat the shit out of my mom an' me. I kept my sister out of it as best I could. We were all scared of him 'cause he was a big, mean werewolf." The last part sounded mocking. "Your father was around then. He remembers."

"Does he know you –?"

"He was the first person I went to." They say friends help you move and good friends help you move bodies. Carson was a good friend. Giles put his fist to his forehead and squeezed his eyes tight. After everything they'd been through together, for him to betray his friend like this....

Mack's eyes went wide. She didn't like thinking about the implications of what Giles had just said. With her voice barely above a whisper, she asked, "What happened?"

He glanced at Mack. "What do you think happened? One night he started thrashing my mom again. I guess he forgot that I wasn't a kid any more. I was an even bigger, meaner werewolf. Laura was six. She barely remembers any of this. She likes to pretend nothing bad ever happened to her, that her life was always perfect. Her way of dealing with it, I guess. It's why I always spent more time with your family than hers. She doesn't like to be reminded of where she came from."

Mack put a hand on his. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "But it was obviously self-defense. Nobody could blame you for that."

"My mom did. Or, I don't know... I don't even understand any more. She – " Giles ran his fingers through his hair. "She went crazy that night. She ended up in a hospital and never came out. I tried to visit her a few times. She'd start cryin', calling me by his name, begging me not to hurt her, asking where the kids were."

Mack closed her eyes. "That's awful." She added softly, "You're nothing like him, you know."

"You don't get it, Macks!" Giles pulled his hand away. He got up from his chair and paced over to the kitchen counter. Pointing at his chest, he declared, "I am him. I'm just like him. Just like every man in my whole damned family. We're all trash, every last one of us." He held up the bottle in his hand as though it were evidence of this, looked like he was about to throw it, then thought better of it and set it next to the dishes. It wobbled, nearly toppling over.

"Giles, what are you talking about? You'd never do those things," Mack countered. "You're not like that at all."

"Really?" Giles demanded. "How do you know that? How do you know I wouldn't turn into that? My mom loved him, you know. He was good to her at some point. Maybe one day he just lost it." He closed his eyes tight and held his fists to his head. He was starting to lose his buzz already. "It's like a fucking curse on my bloodline."

Mack opened her mouth. She almost told him then. But no, she couldn't, not like this. Giles would be his old self again soon and then she'd tell him. She'd tell him when he could share in the joy she felt. Instead, she tried reasoning with him. "What do you mean, a curse?"

Giles looked up at the ceiling, then explained patiently, "I can trace my werewolf ancestors back to Europe a few hundred years ago. The one who spawned my line was... not a nice guy. Rape, torture, murder, you name it. Other werewolves tried to stop him. He was eventually caught by the Church and put on trial. He escaped. His descendants came to the States and started the same shit all over again. I can't come up with a single werewolf I'm descended from who wasn't rotten. Including my asshole father. There's been bad blood between your family and mine going back for generations." He shook his head. "Not any more. It ends with me. There's no good reason for me to bring any kids into this world." He stated these things as if they were simple facts, nothing more. If he felt any self-pity, it didn't show.

Mack pressed her lips tightly together, fighting back tears. "Please say you don't mean that, Giles. Please."

Giles glared at her. "Stop it. Just stop. Whatever girlish fantasies you've had about us, Macks, they end now."

So he didn't love her. She already knew that. She knew she should tell him about her pregnancy right now, but his words hurt. She didn't want him to know just yet. It was her small way of punishing him, hurting him back. Mack set her jaw. "You were the only one who ever understood me." she answered him. "And you've been so good to me. I'm trying to be here for you now, when you need someone the most, and you're pushing me away. I just don't understand why you think you're some kind of monster."

Giles worked his jaw and turned his back to her. He held on to the counter with both hands, straining it with his weight. Damn it. She wasn't listening. He had to make her see. He had to show her... "That's it, isn't it? You've never seen me like I truly am. I think it's time you met my other side. I'll show you what kind of monster I am." The last few words were accompanied by growl. He began to unbutton his jeans.

"Giles..." Mack, still seated on the floor, scooted back. She'd never been afraid of him before but then he'd never spoken to her like this.

He quickly cast his clothing aside, then slowly turned his head to face her. The shadows on his face were all wrong. His eyes, normally so compelling and kind, seemed to reflect more light than they ordinarily did. They shone with anger, without a trace of his usual humanity. His features stretched and morphed into a hideous approximation of an ordinary wolf. His lips pulled back to reveal a set of long, sharp canine teeth. The ominous growling grew deeper.

As Giles' height and width expanded, his skin stretched and pulled in all the wrong directions. His growl turned into roars of pain. As close as she was, she could see that his fur didn't sprout from his skin. Instead, fine cracks spread out over it, revealing the bloodied gray fur beneath. At first, the fur was red and wet, but as the skin peeled away, so did the blood. All of it turned to a fine ash, then nothingness as it fell away from his body, leaving no evidence he was ever human. His bones popped and contorted. His hands stretched until they ended in long, ghastly claws.

Mack watched in fascinated horror as Giles' already massive frame grew to fill the small room. The more space he took up, the further she retreated, until she was up against the far wall. He towered over her now, having to crouch slightly to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. He was a giant, far bigger than the other werewolves she'd seen.

The werewolf that used to be Giles took two steps closer to her on its massive hind legs. Mack's whole body shook with fear. She knew it was Giles – her Giles – but she couldn't help her reaction. He wouldn't really hurt her, would he? What if becoming a werewolf somehow made him lose control? What if he forgot himself? She read only fury on that terrible, inhuman face. Her body shook with adrenaline.

The werewolf slowly lowered its head until its bared fangs came within a foot of her face. Mack felt the sudden urge to run but her body refused to move. She wanted to plead with him but the words died on her lips. Giles, please be in there...

The beast belted out a roar, louder and more terrible than she could have imagined. It was rage. Pure rage. She closed her eyes tight against the onslaught and shivered. The werewolf turned and busted the door open with one angry swipe of its enormous arm and bounded out. The door slammed back, hanging crookedly by one bent hinge.

Mack didn't move. She began to sob. She didn't know if she was crying out of fear or sorrow or if it was for Giles or herself. She hugged her knees, put her head down, and let the tears come.

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At some point, Mack must have fallen asleep. She awoke to the cold gray first light of dawn, still on the floor of Giles' cabin. The door still hung loosely by one hinge, letting the icy October air inside. And yet, she was aware of the cold but not bothered by it. At her back, down her legs, surrounding her, she felt something incredibly soft and deliciously warm. Fur? She didn't recall Giles owning a fur blanket.

She reached back with one hand and tentatively felt for what it was. As she awoke fully, she realized it was a solid form. Giles. It was Giles' own body, still huge and covered in fur, that enveloped her in warmth. She felt his chest expanding against her back with each hot breath. He was asleep. Strange, she would have guessed werewolves just turned back into humans when they fell asleep.

Mack very much wanted to stay in that fur. How much more luxurious would it feel against her bare skin? But after last night... no. It was time to leave. Very slowly and carefully, Mack slid out from under his great arm. She turned to look at him.

The beast's face looked nothing like Giles and yet it somehow reminded her of him. He had thick gray and white fur, with black markings on his face and pointed ears. It was a terrible, monstrous face that bore only passing resemblance to ordinary gray wolves, but she found herself appreciating it's strange beauty. It almost made her smile.

Mack couldn't help herself – she reached out and very lightly touched his face. Her fingers stroked the fur on top of his head, then down one shoulder. She quickly pulled her hand back, taking care not to wake him up.

She retrieved the blanket from his bed and placed it over him. He would be pretty cold if he woke up later on the floor, completely naked.

"I love you, Giles," she whispered.

Without pausing to look back, Mack headed out the door.

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Her parents would freak. She'd never stayed out all night, not even when she'd been dating Connor. It was completely unlike her. As Mack drove home, she prayed her parents hadn't called anyone to report her missing.

She didn't know what excuse she'd give them. It hardly mattered any more, she realized.

Mack soon reached home, parked her truck outside, and headed in. Upstairs, she found her bedroom door open. Her mother was sitting on the side of her bed. Andrea wore a long nightgown, warm bathrobe, and slippers. It was obvious by her tired expression that she'd gotten very little sleep, if any.

"Mom?" A knot of worry twisted in the bottom of Mack's stomach. "I hope you weren't up all night waiting for me..." she started.

Andrea didn't look up. Her attention was focused on something in her hands."I made excuses to your father for you. I told him you were at a friend's house. I assumed that much was true." To Mack's surprise, her mother didn't sound angry. Her voice was merely soft and restrained. She'd probably been rehearsing for hours what she wanted to say when her daughter finally walked in the door. "I wanted him to get some sleep. I thought I'd get the full story from you before we talked to him."

Mack had no idea what to say. She opened her mouth to answer, but her mother held out her hand, showing her the pregnancy test Mack had used the day before.

"I emptied out the trash cans last night. I noticed this," Andrea explained. She looked worriedly on her daughter's face. "Is this accurate?"

Mack's felt her stomach drop. She nodded.

Andrea placed the used device into the bin next to Mack's end table. She held out her arms to her daughter, waiting for a hug.

Mack hesitated, then rushed forward. In one movement, she sat down and let her mother embrace her, returning the hug with a tight squeeze of her own. She didn't let go. "Mom, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," Andrea whispered over her daughter's shoulder. "Well, obviously this isn't ideal, but... it's happening. I don't want you to be sorry for having a child." Andrea pulled back to look into her daughter's eyes and smiled.

Mack smiled too, not without guilt. "Thank you."

Andrea hmphed. "So this is what you've been up to all this time. I wondered."

"You noticed?"

Andrea shot her daughter an incredulous look. "Extra long shifts at the park every day? Disappearing for hours without explanation? That blissful look on your face whenever you thought I wasn't looking? I wasn't sure who it was, but I knew something was up."

Mack groaned. She rubbed her nose. "I thought I was being so smart about it."

Andrea snorted. She asked, "So who is it?"

Mack looked away and shook her head. "I – I don't know if I'm ready to talk about that part yet. Is that okay?"

"Not really, no." There was a pause, then both of them laughed tiredly. Andrea added, "It would be nice to know who my grandchild's father is."

Mack nodded and looked at her hands. "I know. You deserve an answer. It's just... he doesn't know yet. Last night was kind of a disaster. We had a fight. Sort of."

Andrea reached for her daughter's hand. "Do you need to talk about it? I'm here. I can listen."

"Yes. But... not yet." Mack winced at her mother, watching her face for any loss of the patient understanding she was showing her.

Andrea nodded, not entirely content, but a faint smile on her face anyway. She rubbed her daughter's back and stood up. "I'll try to give you some time. But not too much, okay? I don't like the idea of keeping a secret from your father, especially not one like this."

Mack nodded. She'd already resigned herself to what would happen. "I know."

"Get a shower and get some sleep. You'll feel better. And if you feel sick, try to eat half a piece of dry toast. Morning sickness is worse when your stomach is empty." Andrea gave her daughter a knowing smile.

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"I love you." Mack hoped her words conveyed the deep gratefulness she felt.

"I love you too." Andrea's smile warmed.

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Giles woke up with a headache. He peered at his surroundings. It looked like late morning or possibly midday. He was naked, on the floor, and covered with his own blanket. What had he done last night? The last thing he remembered clearly was turning into a werewolf. And Mack, terrified of him. He'd been so angry with her. Giles sat up, frantic, and scanned for any signs of blood. Oh god, what if he'd hurt her? He was good at controlling his changes and keeping his mind intact, but it was irresponsible to have done what he did. Experience was no guarantee that something wouldn't go wrong.

The door hung oddly from when he'd smashed it but there was no other indication any other violence had taken place. Giles looked at the blanket. As a werewolf, he would never have covered himself with a blanket before lying down. Only Mack could have done that. After everything he'd said and done last night, she still cared about him. Giles felt his face burn with shame.

He tried to recall everything else that had happened. She came here to tell him something. And there was an important detail he'd wanted to remember from his wolf-state – but what? Something about Mack. He put a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. No, it was no good. It was like trying to a recall a fevered dream that slipped away the harder you tried to hold on to it.

Didn't matter. Giles did recall the decision he'd made last night. He would go elsewhere. It was too painful to stay here. It was agony to remain so close to Macks and yet be unable to have her. As much as he cared for her, he couldn't be here when she moved on with her life. He couldn't watch her fall in love and have kids with some other man, even someone worthy to have her.