I woke with a splitting headache to the sound of my cellphone ringing. I was still laying on the couch, but thankfully didn’t have another dream. I rubbed my sleepy eyes and felt around for my phone that had fallen on the floor sometime while I was sleeping. I looked at the screen, in big bright letters it said ‘Mom’ with the accompanying picture of her and her dyed blond hair and brown eyes.
It was never difficult to see I was adopted. My mom was African-American, and my dad was about as white as can be. My mom was a Psychologist who specialized in child service cases, I guess that’s how they found me. My dad was a journalist, he left his job and stayed home after they adopted me, he thought it would be a good chance for him to work on his novel while bonding with me. I was close to them both, each in a different way. My dad offered me an escape, he never forced me to talk, he distracted my mind from my worries. My mom, being the shrink she was, always got me to tell her everything, I couldn’t hide anything from her.
I sighed. I love talking to my parents and I do it as often as I can, but I know I’m going to end up telling her the nightmares are back, and I know she’s going to want me to come home so she can evaluate me. It’s just how she is.
I click the big green talk button and am immediately greeted with a big warm “Hi, honey!”
“Hey Mom! How are things?”
“They’re good. I just missed my baby girl, I haven’t heard from you in a week!” She says teasingly. My parents know I’m busy, and they give me my space. Still, I feel guilty for not being better about it.
“Sorry Mom, things have been… a bit hectic lately.”
“Is everything ok? You’re not in trouble are you?”
I laugh, she always worries, it’s warming to the soul to know she always cares.
“Of course not, everything is fine.”
“Olivia…” And there’s the Psychiatrist mom voice that always makes me spill the beans!
“Please don’t freak out…” I quietly plead.
“Olivia, what is it?”
“The nightmares are back…”
She sighs, there’s silence for a moment.
“How long?”
“A few days. But it’s fine, I’m handling it and I have an idea on how to get rid of them permanently.” I leave out any big details about the Ryker men and the crazy supernatural things I can’t really explain.
That’s why I’m thankful for what my parents always told me growing up: I’ll trust you, till you give me good reason not to. Basically, don’t be a crazy delinquent and we won’t question you when you ask us not to.
“Mom, just trust me. I’m not ready to tell you right now, but I’m confident it’s gonna work and someday I’ll tell you about.”
She sighs heavily. “Ok, honey. Just as long as you know your father and I are here for you.”
“I know.”
**********
My conversation with my mom went the same as it usually does once I filled her in on my ‘relapse’. We talked about my dad, my brothers: My dad officially set a release date for his 3rd book, my oldest brother and his wife are pregnant, and my youngest brother just totaled his Jeep – his baby – the usual updates they give me. My parents are retired so I usually get my info from them, I talk to my brothers but not as often. They’re busy with their own lives just like I’m busy with mine.
Kirstie called me right after I hung up with my mom. I stared hard at the caller ID, remembering the freaky laugh and haunting sound to her voice. I shakily answered with a meek ‘hello’. It was her, the real her, asking why I wasn’t at work. I realized then that I was about 45 minutes late for my shift.
Work was going well, my day was going well, everything felt fine. The guys didn’t show up tonight, Kirstie said they were paying a visit to their brother and recruiting his help. I couldn’t shake the dream I had about Lex and his family. Somehow I knew his brother, and I had met them a lot earlier than my adult years.
“Kirstie…” I said as she was wiping up a table and placing the chairs on it, we were the closing crew.
“Yeah…” She drawled out, smirking at me. I’m guessing she thinks I’m going to ask her something particular, though I’m not sure what.
“Has Richard, Lex’s oldest brother, come here at all since I’ve been here?” I’m wondering if he came and I didn’t know him and subconsciously realized they were brothers.
Her smirk dropped and she rolled her eyes.
“No, he doesn’t come down here unless he has to. Which is usually never.” She replies.
I leave it for now, if I heard his name in passing or saw his picture somewhere that could explain my dream, but my curiosity was piqued at her reactions during our recent conversation.
“What did you think I was gonna ask?” I place a hand on my hip and cock my head to the side slightly.
She squares up with me and smirks that devious smirk again.
“I thought you were gonna ask about a certain dark haired, grey eyed someone…” She says and grins.
“Oh my stars!” I quickly make my way to the bags of trash that need to be taken out, picking them up and heading to the door.
“You like him, admit it!” She shouts teasingly.
I push through the door out into the chilly air. I do like him, but he’s still a criminal, and I still don’t really know him. He could be a killer for all I know! My thoughts were swirling in my head like a silly teenager, counting the pros and cons my brain presented to me on the subject of Alexander Ryker. I was so lost in thought I almost didn’t see it. A black wolf, sitting there on the half wall.
I sat there frozen. I didn’t want to run and it chase me, but I didn’t want to stand here next to it and risk it pouncing on me. Before I could decide on my next course of action, it leisurely hopped off the wall, and began making its way to me. It had a large brown stripe of fur going down the middle of its snout all the way to the back of its head. I noticed then that it was much larger than your average wolf, and its eyes were far more human. They were a soft brown, and gentler than I expected to see in an animal, especially a predator. I don’t know why I didn’t move away, or why I didn’t call for help. Something about it seemed friendly.
It stood in front of me now. It cocked its head to the side like I had asked it a question and it didn’t understand. Slowly, I raised my hand a bit. It reached its head forward and sniffed my hand in greeting.
“Are you a nice wolf? Or is this what you do before you eat people?” I quietly mused to it.
Again, it cocked its head to the side, then it leaned forward and gave a little lick to the hand I still had placed before it. I giggled at the strange behavior.
“I’m gonna take that to mean you’re a nice wolf.” I smiled. My fear slowly drifting to the back of my mind.
I reached my hand forward and started stroking its head. Its eyes closed and it leaned its head into my hand enjoying the attention it was being given. I moved my hand to its ear and began gently rubbing the base of it, it responded with little grunts and foot kicks, happy for the scratch.
“You’re an odd wolf, are you someone’s pet?”
It pulled its head away quickly and sat at attention, its eyes were set on something behind me. I looked in the same direction it was looking but saw nothing. It turned and ran off quickly, disappearing into the night. To say I was puzzled was an understatement.
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