Page 60 of The Wolves of Forest Grove

Where’s Jared?” Clay asked brusquely as he came inside.

It was warm again today and like I assumed he would, Clay had been out back in his shop the entire day.

But unlike what I assumed; Jared was also M.I.A.

He’d been in his room since I woke up this morning and other than a creaking in the hallway upstairs that told me he was going to the bathroom, he hadn’t left.

Not to eat. Not to go outside—even though it was gorgeous out.

Not even for a glass of water as far as I knew.

I’d spent the day between the living room and the front porch.

I’d even dragged a chair from the kitchen table to sit just outside the door to soak up the last dregs of the sunlight before dusk fell.

It was near dark now and I couldn’t believe the entire day had passed without me saying a word to either of them.

I was left wishing I hadn’t asked Jacqueline for Saturday off.

Had I known we wouldn’t have been going to meet the pack until after dark and that both Jared and Clay would be completely unapproachable for the whole day, I’d have gladly kept the shift.

As it was, the only people I spoke to were Layla and Viv, and only via text. They teased me about how my weekend was going in a house full of hotness and wondered when they were going to get their formal introductions to the infamous Clayton Armstrong.

My phone buzzed in my hand and I shrugged at Clay. “In his room, I think,” I replied, leaning back against the sofa to open a new message from Vivian.

Vivian resent the last text I left without a reply an hour ago. I’d been hoping she would just drop it but staring at the duplicated message I almost laughed at myself. Why would I think she of all people would just let it go?

Vivian: I know there’s something you’re not telling us. You know you can talk to me, right?

Clay grumbled something unintelligible to himself and stomped into the kitchen to pour himself a tall glass of water. “We need to get going,” Clay said as he set the glass into the sink and it tipped over, rattling loudly against the stainless steel.

My throat dried and I pushed myself up off the couch, wiping a sweaty palm against my thigh. “I’ll tell him it’s time to go,” I offered.

Clay grunted to himself and then vanished back outside without another word.

My spine tingled with the whisper of some unnamed emotion coursing down it like an electrical current, heating and souring my belly.

I paused to watch Clay go through the window in the living room as he made his way back around to his shop.

His face was pinched. Eyes dark. Was it his emotion I was feeling, or my own?

It was hard to tell the difference these days.

My phone buzzed again, and I glanced at the new message.

Vivian: Is it drugs? Or did you borrow money from someone sketchy or something?

I rolled my eyes. Viv clearly watched way too many movies.

Allie: Jesus Viv. NO. I’m not on freaking drugs.

Vivian: I knew you were ignoring me on purpose.

I pocketed my phone with a groan and dragged my ass up the stairs, my pulse picking up as I approached Jared’s bedroom door. I lifted my hand, but the fluttering sensation in my belly made me pause, trying to catch my breath.

That’s when I noticed it was slightly ajar, and when I tilted my head, I could just see Jared on the far side of the room, sitting at a beat-up desk covered in a plethora of random stickers. Some peeling and others faded. He had his feet up on the edge and a book spread open between his hands.

No. not a book. The cover was on the wrong side.

Unable to help myself, I pushed the door open. “Is that Naruto?”

Jared fumbled and dropped the book into his lap, a little pain stricken gasp blowing out between his lips as it landed directly on his junk.

He bent over, shoving the heavy manga from his manly bits, and his legs fell from the desk top, propelling him too far forward.

He slipped from the chair and lay in a moaning heap on the floor.

“Oh fuck. Fuck!” I ran over to him and wrapped my hand around his arm. “I’m so sorry. I should have knocked. Jared?” I shook him. “Jared, are you okay?”

He groaned again, wincing as he tilted his head sideways to look up at me, his hand still clutching at the space between his legs. “Fine,” he gasped. “I’m good.”

Jared slowly moved to stand, righting the desk chair and pushing it back into the little nook beneath the desk.

“Is it time to go?” he asked, still wincing.

But something had caught my gaze and I found myself staring at a bookshelf beside his desk, tucked into the small span of wall between the desk and a tall armoire. A bookshelf filled with manga. Naruto and Fullmetal Alchemist. Black Butler and Bleach. And was that…Fruits Basket?

“Hmm?” I said, trying to claw my way back to the present.

For a halting second, I was back in Devin’s basement, sitting next to him as he played a video game on the flatscreen. I’d been reading the newest Black Butler, so absorbed I hadn’t heard his talking to me.

That was the day he’d asked me why I read that stuff. Why I watched stupid childish anime shows. He said he couldn’t understand what I liked about it so much.

They’re just glorified picture books and cartoons.

He was wrong, of course, but I’d been so eager to please him then. I’d returned the book to the library the next day at school without finishing it.

And there it was—right there on Jared’s bookshelf. Something in my resolve cracked and I swallowed, turning quickly so he wouldn’t see.

“I asked if it was time to go,” Jared repeated, and I cleared my throat.

“Yeah,” I said, more cheerfully than I felt. “Meet you downstairs, ‘kay?”