Sharon’s Note: On a serious note, I’ve met several people stuck in abusive relationship. It always breaks my heart. Just remember, you don’t have to stay with anyone, you don’t disserve what they are doing, it is not normal, and it is never too late to start over. Warning: Author regrets that some people feel so trapped they can’t let anyone help them.
To his credit, Brian didn’t flinch. I had a lot of complaints about our werewolf; he was grumpy, rude, short tempered, had no sense of humor, and didn’t seem to like me at all. He hadn’t even wanted me to join the band. One thing I couldn’t fault him on, though, was his bravery.
Alex quietly took Brian’s sister’s hand. He was trying to lead her back to the van, but her boyfriend noticed and snarled. “Get away from her.”
“Please don’t make him mad,” the pregnant woman whimpered. Even under the too many shadows cast by the headlights, I could see her trembling. “Brian, you can’t beat him.”
The wannabe sneered. Oh, that had stroked his arrogance. It radiated off of him, and combined with her stomach grinding fear. The stench was so strong it made the air sour and raised my hackles. If I’d been a wolf, I’d have started to shift. I wasn’t, so I had to do something to release the tension before I . . . found other outlets. More unfortunate outlets.
I snatched the beer out of the wannabe’s unsuspecting hand, and he stared at me in a more palatable combination of anger and confusion. “What the hell are you doing?”
I held up the bottle and waggled it back and forth. “I’m going to need you to be less of a jerk, or I’m going to have to shove this whole thing down your throat. It will be extremely unpleasant, and I can assure you, despite the shiny color, it is neither candy nor sour apple flavored.”
The night was suddenly silent except for the rumble of the van’s engine and the drone of cicadas. Brian and Alex, who both knew me too well to think overly much of anything I said, were the only ones who didn’t just drip with confusion. It was a full thirty seconds before anyone spoke, and only then because Alex was trying to direct Brian’s sister back to the van again.
She jerked away. “No. No, this is a bad idea. I shouldn’t have called. I belong here. I don’t know what I was thinking-“
“That’s right, Sarah, Baby. You belong with us.” The wannabe was almost purring, victorious pride etched into his very posture and Brian’s sister, presumably Sarah, moved closer so his arm could curl possessively around her waist. A young woman being drawn back by an overpowering and charismatic figure, having no choice . . . It struck a chord. If I didn’t have to put up with it, neither did she.
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