Claws And Cartels Chapter 8

Title: A Push Too Far

Jerry’s POV

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Crescent High wasn’t as shiny as the name made it sound. The halls smelled of waxed floors and cheap perfume, lockers clanging with every slam, voices bouncing everywhere like bees in a hive. But none of that mattered, because the moment I stepped inside, it was all eyes on me again.

“Is that him?”

“Looks just like him…”

“Definitely his son, no doubt.”

They didn’t even try to whisper softly. Their eyes burned holes in my back as I walked past.

For once, I didn’t shrink under the pressure: I was getting used to it. A small part of me stood taller, proud that my father’s shadow reached even here. Maybe it wasn’t all bad being Levin’s son.

Classes dragged. Teachers asked me questions, soft ones, like they didn’t want to poke me too hard. Students glanced my way every chance they got. Some were bold enough to ask, “Are you really Levin’s son?” I dodged the question with a shrug. Let them wonder.

But the worst was when a senior—some cocky guy with slick hair—blocked my path in the hallway.

“Hey, Levin junior,” he smirked. “Think you’re special? Anyone thinks this guy is special?” he announced to everyone.

Everyone just stood by and watched: silently.

The wolf inside me stirred. Heat rushed through my veins, my claws itched beneath my skin. I knew I couldn’t afford to let my wolf out. It would be messy.

Then Sasha appeared at my side, arms folded, eyes sharp. “Back off, Darren. He doesn’t even know your name, and you’re here acting like his biggest fan.”

Laughter rippled through the hall. Darren glared and moved aside. Then my wolf retreated to the quiet corners of my mind. My chest loosened.

I wanted to thank her, but the words stuck in my throat. Instead, we shot the breeze like nothing happened, walking to the garage where a driver was already waiting for me.

I waved her goodbye before collapsing into the back seat. Phew, that was close. If only she knew she’d saved me from myself today. I was so grateful things played out the way they did.

That evening, the house felt heavy. Mom busied herself in the kitchen, banging pots louder than needed. The smell of stew drifted through the halls, but the sound wasn’t comforting—it was angry. I lingered by the door, peeking in.

Her hair was tied up messy, sleeves rolled, a frown pressed on her face. She stirred the pot like it had personally wronged her. I thought about stepping inside, saying something, but the look on her face warned me otherwise. She didn’t even glance my way.

So I just whispered, “Hey, Mom,” and kept walking.

She didn’t answer. Maybe she didn’t hear me. Or maybe she did.

Later, I caught voices downstairs—low and casual. Dad’s office door creaked open.

“…all quiet at the gates. Patrols doubled.” That was Brad’s voice. The chief of security, Dad’s right hand man. The closest thing he had to a friend.

“Good,” Dad replied, smooth and calm as always.

Silence stretched, then Brad lowered his tone. “Levin… just wanted to ask—how did you get Jerry to go school after the mess last night? Or should I say—how did you get Debby to agree?”

“All he needed was a push,” Dad said. “He’s my son after all.”

“And by a push you mean taking his pain?”

“Yes.” Dad’s voice echoed with conviction. “He’s my son.”

“What are you smiling about? You’re not planning something crazy, are you?” Brad chuckled.

“No. Just something that crossed my mind.” Dad’s tone lightened. “I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s listening to us right now.”

They both burst into laughter.

“How sure are you?” Brad asked.

“I bet a hundred. It’s what I would do.”

“Sure, that sounds like you. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too hot headed like you.” Brad said.

They laughed again.

Butterflies rampaged my belly. So I hadn’t imagined that sudden relief. Dad did something to me. For me. Wow. I smiled with admiration.

Dad’s chair creaked. I heard the clink of glass—Dad pouring himself a drink. Brad’s voice was quieter. “You hide it well. But I see it.”

I peeked just enough to catch Dad’s profile, still as a statue, except for the faint tremor in his hand as he set the glass down. He masked it instantly, straightening his back.

“Brad, let it go.”

“You’ll burn yourself out one day, Levin.”

Dad didn’t answer. His silence was louder than words.

Dinner was no better. Mom set plates down harder than needed, lips pressed tight. She didn’t look at Dad once.

Dad too was acting off. Chewing more than necessary, you could tell he really didn’t want to eat. He just didn’t want to reject the food and get Mom angrier.

As tension grew, Dad tried to calm the atmosphere. “Debby, are you alright? You’ve been acting strange all day.”

Mom was silent, grazing her spoon through her food without eating. She didn’t even look at him.

“Debby,” he called again, firmer this time.

Mom raised her head, eyes sharp. “Here? In front of Jerry? You’re joking, right?”

Dad stood. “My room.” He beckoned at Mom to follow him.

When they came back, things didn’t change. This time Dad wasn’t eating anymore. He fixed his eyes on the TV like he was interested. We all knew he wasn’t watching it.

I was the rope in their tug of war, I thought, chewing in silence. Naive of me to think I’d actually get to share about school with them tonight.

Brad cracked a joke to cut the tension. But it fell on deaf ears, like storing water in a leaking pot. Dad managed a curt smile. Mom just sat there quiet, a storm under her skin.

I kept my head down, grateful when the meal ended.

That night, sleep didn’t come easy. I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, Sasha’s smile and Darren’s sneer mixing in my head with the crimson eyes of the wolf. The more I tried to push Sasha out of my mind, the clearer her laugh became, the curve of her smile, the way she made Darren shrink with just words.

I rolled over, groaning into my pillow. Why couldn’t I stop thinking about her?

I cracked my window and let the night air cool my face. Boots scuffed faintly along the outer path—patrol—then faded. I remembered the small shake in Dad's hand and felt something strange—pride, and a pinch of guilt.

“I’ll get this under control,” I whispered a promise to myself.

I thought of Sasha all night until finally sleep pulled me under.