That's Gemma for you! Making friends even in the most dire of situations.
~Gemma~ Sounds of my own screaming tore me from sleep. My heart thudded in my chest. I tasted the taint of the wicked witch and her twisted alpha. Shit! Weeks later I still woke with night terrors. My tank top was drenched with sweat and clung to my body. Gross. I rolled over to look at the alarm clock and groaned. Usually if I was up at three am, it was because I never went to bed. Fat Kitty cuddled me, giving me his own special flavor of love. I wished it was enough. Love never saved me from a damn thing. Sorry if that hard truth made me out to be a heartless hag. Sleep evaded me, refused to entertain my pleas for a comeback. I tried. I tried so hard. Some days were rougher than others. “Gems? Do you need me?” Alpha Devlin’s voice cut through the misery that was my life. His sleepy voice carried through the distance. Of course he never had trouble with sleep. And most unforgivable, he was a morning person. “Gemma? I know you're awake. Stop avoiding me.” I gritted my teeth. Ever
~Alpha Devlin~ Damp hair clung to my forehead. Since sleep refused to come, I decided to work off some steam. An hour of lifting weights and abusing my body provided no comfort. Might as well shower and let go of the idea of rest. “Knock, knock.” A female voice called out, along with a light rapping on my door. Who the hell is here at this hour? “Go away!” “Devie, let me in. I know you’re in there.” I silently cursed, remaining quiet on the chance she would go away. “Don’t act like this. Let me in.” Her nails clacked on the door frame. “Or I will cause a scene.” Fuck this! I swung the door open and pulled her inside. “It is Alpha Devlin to you. Don’t forget your place.” I ignored her pouty look and continued. “Now what do you want? It’s late.” “Technically, it’s early.” Tasha nibbled on her bottom lip. “I miss you. And I know you miss me.” I know it was rude. I didn’t give a shit, dismissing her claim with an arrogant wave of my hand. “I explained very clearly where we stood.
~Gemma~ “I miss you so much.” I reached for the beautiful man with such longing. Imagine trying to touch a treasure you had no business coveting. He stared at me with those empty, soulless eyes. “Why won’t you come to me?” “I’m sorry! I can’t!” I explained. Flames danced in his eyes. “Come to me!” His hand caressed my face. I woke trembling and confused. Shit! I dreamed of him again, of Damon, my former vampire lover. This dream marked the third in the past week. My night terrors about the tainted witch and her alpha finally stopped. And now this fresh hell. It had only been a few months and I still missed him. Besides the physical connection, I missed his company and our stimulating conversations. I know it may be hard to believe, but we were friends before lovers. I sighed and pulled the blankets up to my neck. Somewhere in the hidden corners of his mind, did he miss me? Unlike with Alpha Devlin, Damon and I had no sordid past constantly getting in our way. Well, that was unt
~Gemma~ “Good trouble?” I giggled like some virginal school girl. Oh, wait. I was in the middle of a crisis. I frowned at my would-be aggressors. “I’ve got this under control.” Damon bowed, very formal. “I am certain that is the truth. However, it is my duty and right to protect this neighborhood. Along with its beautiful occupants.” His smile turned cruel as he faced the two dead men walking. “Gentlemen, the lady is a special friend of mine. I take offense to anyone attempting to harass or harm her.” A cool wind swept by. Damon’s eyes burned red. Crap! Not good. He barely contained his vampy powers. Alex spoke first, sly smile plastered on his face, “We invited the lady for some fun. She declined. We were merely escorting her safely to her vehicle.” “From my vantage point, your actions headed in a different direction.” Damon snarled. “You propositioned the lady. She turned you down. And it appeared that you were both sore losers, accepting no for an answer. Tell me,” flames dance
~Sammie~ Fucking ladies’ night! It dutifully rolled around every other week without fail! Tonight, Megan, Gemma, and I sat in a circle on the floor in Gemma’s front room. Macy bowed out. Chicken-shit little bitch. “Are you sure this is a thing?” I wasn’t convinced. I gestured to us grown ass women dressed in our pajamas. “Definitely. I watched it on 13 Going on 30!” Megan squealed with excitement, much to my horror. “She was a 13 year old girl! Trapped in a 30 year old body!” I shot back. Megan stuck out her tongue and continued her conversation with Gemma. I knew it! The damn night was doomed to drag on. The expression on Gemma’s face did nothing to alleviate my stress. Nope! I was not experiencing FOMO. More like dread. I glanced at the clock, wondering when it would be socially acceptable to fall into slumber at this slumber party. “Never mind all that.” Gemma interrupted. “Are we doing the Pitch Perfects, or The Three Musketeers?” Lucky for us, she didn’t suggest any of
~Gemma~ Sammie dragged my ass to a local dive bar. Yes. I fought hard. Yes. I allowed her to win because true friends supported each other. After hastily revealing her crush on the bartender, she thanked my loyalty by promptly dumping me. Yeah. I ended up playing the damn third wheel. She failed to warn me I overdressed for the occasion. My tidy dress, clean hair and nails clashed against the gritty backdrop. Her attire of black jeans and flitted leather jacket didn’t alert me to the potential dangers. Sammie’s outfit screamed Sammie, not grungy dive attire. The scent of the atmosphere smelled a little dark and broody. Not my scene. I sat alone in the corner like the freaking reject. I know we don’t like to talk about it. But there is always that awkward friend in the group. Hello! It's me, awkward. I hoped to never repeat this experiment. From a safe distance, I studied this mysterious side of her. She flirted and giggled while twirling a piece of hair around her finger. Sammie’
~Gemma~ Sammie walked over, throwing her arm around my shoulder. “Sup, witchy-poo.” I rolled my eyes. Goofy Sammie came with her own heavy ass baggage. At least she could stand on her own two feet. “Hi, love!” I said cheerfully. A bit of positivity never hurt. She must have drunk a crapton to be this buzzed. “Who is this fucker?” She noticed Evan sitting at my table. “Fucker, this is Sammie. Sammie, say hi to fucker.” I giggled. I deserved humor if nothing else. “Hello. I’m Evan.” He said carefully, probably realizing he was stuck in the shitshow now. Sammie scowled at him, leaning in awfully close to his face. “You messin’ with my girl? Cause I’m betting I can take you.” I pulled her back. “Play nice, Sam. Evan is my new friend. He’s been keeping me company whilst you go through the mating rituals.” She shook her head and wore a sad expression. “What happened? Was he mean to you?” I jumped to my feet. If the situation called for it, I condoned violence. “Gems,” she snickered
~Gemma~ I managed to shove him away. “Dude.” I put a hand on my chest. “Not cool!” Sammie stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. “I will let you in on a secret, little fellow.” She stalked towards him. Her long legs ate up the distance quickly. “Wait to be invited before attacking a woman with your face.” Evan’s shoulders rose and then fell. “Please, let me explain!” His eyes were wild. “By all means! Explain!” Sammie sat on the couch, dragging me with her. “And if you try that shit with me again, it will be the last thing you ever do.” He ignored her threat. “How did you recover so quickly?” Evan asked, searching Sammie for some visible clue. “She is a werewolf. Perhaps that affects the outcome?” I answered, thinking aloud. “Gems, what is going on?” Sammie elbowed me. I whispered excitedly to her. “He is a freaking warlock!” “Ah! A he-witch!” Sammie laughed. “That explains things.” He grimaced. “We do prefer the term warlock. Thanks.” “And I prefer a handshake w