TRICKY SITUATION

The wind blows through my loose, blond strands, making my hair whip around me like a silk blanket offering it's smooth comfort.

Dylan, the man standing just a short distance from me watches me carefully, waiting for me to run at him, attack him, try to make him pay for what I deem as traitorous behavior, but I make no such move. I only stare at him with open and unashamed contempt.

He can't hide the hurt my bitterness and scorn bring him, and for a moment I think he is the old Dylan, not the Dylan who turned on his pack and brought Noah out of there.

"I have to talk to you," he says. "You have to know the truth."

He walks toward me, slowly, carefully, like I was a wild animal that would attack him given the wrong move. "Grace, listen to me. I know you probably have tons of questions for me right now and I promise to answer them all, just let me explain-"

With loud smack against the his left cheek, his eyes widen in surprise at the girl who has slapped him. There is already a red mark