Creeps At Night

I could not believe what I had just heard. My heart felt like it had been stabbed by a knife. I stared at Leon for a few seconds, hoping that he was going to change his mind; that he was going to blame it on his anger. 

But he did not; he made sure that I left the Pack House. He made sure that to let the guards know that I was not allowed back until morning. So now, I was on the streets at night, when it was cold and literally anything could happen to me. 

I could get jumped, or worse…taken advantage of. 

It was not like our pack was not safe, but like everywhere, there were creeps and perverts. So I was so scared, or maybe it was just all in my head. Whether it was that or not, I was not going to take any chances. 

So I made my way down the street and went somewhere where there was a lot of light. It was a bus stop, and there was only an older man there, probably waiting for the bus to take him home to his family. Sitting down, I just stared into the distance. 

Tears burned my eyes, but I did not let them fall. I was not weak. I had been through way too much to allow myself to cry all because I had been told to sleep outside for one night. I wasn’t a big deal…right? 

I sniffled, swallowing hard. There was a knot in my throat that just seemed to be growing bigger with each passing minute. 

“You look familiar,” The old man broke the silence. I turned, and we locked eyes. “Aren’t you the one who leaked the pack’s battle plans to the rogue werewolves?” He asked, squinting as he continued to stare at me. 

“What…?” My voice was small, but I knew exactly what he was talking about. And of course, he knew me. When I had been sent to prison three years ago, my mugshot had been shared all over the news. So yeah, everyone hated me. 

I was a celebrity, just not the kind that would get me recognized out of love. I was recognized because of collective hate and anger. 

“It’s you. Cassie.” He frowned. “My son died in battle that day because of what you did.” He scoffed, pain flashing in his eyes. 

This broke my heart. “I am so sorry, sir,” I said, trying to reach out to him. 

He flinched away from me. “Don’t you dare,” He warned. “I don’t even know why they let you out. You deserve to rot behind bars for your wickedness. You deserve death.” He spat at me. 

I forced a sad smile as the tears I was holding back slipped from my eyes. I wiped them away as quickly as I could as I stood on my feet. “Again, I am so sorry, sir.” If only he knew the truth. But will knowing even help him? It won’t bring back his son, will it? 

The man said a slur at me, and I decided to leave before it got worse. I hugged myself while walking away. I had no choice but to walk away from the only place that I felt kind of safe. As I did, I felt like I was being watched. 

Call it paranoia, but I could literally feel a pair of eyes or more on me. I increased my pace, no idea where I was going. I had no friends. No one to call. Since I was painted as the one who had betrayed the pack, everyone tore away from me. No one wanted to do with me. 

And after what Rafael had done today, locking me in that cellar. I would rather die than go to him for help. 

I reached a crosswalk, and then I heard someone as I crossed. They were behind me. “Hey, pretty thing!” 

“Sh*t,” I said under my breath as my heart started to race as if I was being chased by a wild animal. I wanted to run. I was so tempted to run, but I did not want the guy to chase me. Not when I did not have my wolf anymore. I would not stand a chance. “Please, goddess, please,” I prayed. 

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” The guy had a thick accent, but I did not know where he was from. I could hear his footsteps getting closer and faster. “F*cking traitor!”

“What do you want?” I managed to bravely say when I reached the other side of the road. I did not stop. But I did glance back. That was when I saw the man. I did not know him. He was wearing dirty clothes, the hood of his hoodie covering his head. 

I could see parts of his face. He had a stubble that looked unclean, and there was something that was in his right hand that reflected the light from the streetlamp for a second. When I recognized it, I felt like my world was about to come to an end. 

It was a pocket knife. 

Was this how I was going to die? 

I turned back, walking even faster. But the moment I heard him running, I knew that it was over. I started to run as I shouted, “Help! Somebody help me!” But no one did. There was barely anyone out. The street that I was on was mostly empty. 

My cries for help did nothing. Even if someone was going to see the scene, I just knew they were going to allow whatever was happening to happen, all because they all believed that I was a traitor. 

I ran with all that I could, but before I knew it, strong arms grabbed me from behind and pushed me to the hard concrete. Pain shot through my side and lower back. I looked up to see the guy. 

He was looking down at me with a dangerous smirk, holding the pocket knife tightly. In the blink of an eye, the sharp object came down at me.