Small stand off

*Amber/Sarah*

 I don’t need to look at my own body to be reminded of the level of hurt I’ve endured. I don’t even need the physical pain to know it; this knowledge defines me, and it’s hard to let that go.

 Kattie is incredibly friendly and helpful. She assists me in finding some of her clothes that are easy to put on over my sore body. It’s not a big issue, though, as her clothes are a bit too big for me. 

 KC ensures I never run out of painkillers. Despite being only 17 years old, he has a steady hand that rivals that of any doctor I’ve ever met. Both Kattie and KC exhibit a remarkable level of responsibility and maturity far beyond their years. They have clearly been forced to grow up too soon, which initially makes me feel sorry for them. But then I realize that at least they have the freedom to shape their own lives.

 Hope, Kattie’s 15-year-old baby sister, spends most of her time keeping me company. With long brown hair and the same green eyes as Kattie, she is very talkative. She can carry on a conversation by herself, often hardly noticing whether I respond or not. Several times, she has talked me to sleep, effectively distracting me from my own thoughts, which is exactly what I need right now.

 I find myself spending most of my time in bed, either on my own or sitting next to Clay, Kattie’s boyfriend. He is badly injured and unable to leave his bed, but he shares a lot about the place where I've ended up.

 I am in the city of Catrista, far down south. It is always warm here, though chilly winds occasionally sweep in from the water on three sides. Catrista is one of the largest cities in a country called Coredia and is one of four cities that has its own government, separate from the rest of the country.

 The city is divided into three parts. In the center, the middle class resides, the backbone of the city that keeps it functioning. The upper class controls the middle class and siphons off their wealth. Along the coastline lies the tourist area, filled with hotels, amusement parks, water parks, and other attractions designed to extract money from visitors.

 Then there’s the underworld… a hidden part of the city, nestled behind the woods that slope down toward the other coastline. It’s a dark place with no pristine beaches, where you end up if there’s no room for you in Catrista. Here, you face a choice: either blend into the shadows or perish.

 And here I am, in the underworld, surrounded by lost packs, weapons, and those deemed unwanted. I’ve found myself among The Shadows, a pack led by Adis. I still have much to learn, and Clay has promised to explain the different packs to me next time. But for now, I lie on my bed, staring up at the dreary ceiling above me.

 Kattie knocks three times before entering the room, followed by a young man. Although I've only been here a few days, I'm no longer surprised by how mature everyone seems. So when she introduces him as Tjeck, Alpha of The Eagles, it feels entirely plausible, despite him appearing to be around Kattie's age. He has ginger-blonde hair that curls slightly, a friendly and handsome face, and piercing blue eyes. He is taller than both Adis and KC, everything about him exudes strength.

 "Nice to see you awake," Tjeck says, stepping past Kattie. "The last time I saw you, you were unconscious." He squats down next to the bed. "I helped KC take care of you, and with your permission, I'd like to check on your wounds." There’s an authority in his voice. Although he’s asking nicely, I have no doubt that I don’t really have a choice.

 I glance at Kattie for help. I'm not ready to let anyone examine my body, especially since he has already done so once. 

 "Tjeck is okay; you can trust him," Kattie reassures me, placing a hand possessively on his shoulder. "He's much better at these things than I am."

 "Don't worry, I promise it won't hurt," Tjeck says, pulling a chair over to the bed and sitting down. "If you could turn your head a bit, I can start with that." He gently turns my head to access the bullet wound.

 I try to ignore the sensation of his hands on my tender skin, biting my lip as I feel him remove the stitches. It’s a strange feeling. 

 "See? All done." Tjeck's hand lingers on my neck as he shifts to sit on the edge of the bed, moving his other hand to examine my head. He has surprisingly gentle hands, especially considering their size. "There's no indication that you've hit your head, and the bullet wound shouldn't affect your memory." If he had told me he was a doctor, I would have believed him. "I see three possibilities, all equally plausible. First, you could have a bump that's gone inward and is pressing on some nerves. If that's the case, you might regain your memory when the swelling goes down. The second possibility is that you've experienced something so traumatic that your brain has shut down as a protective measure."

 "And if that's the case?" I ask, looking into his eyes, already dreading the answer.

 "Then I think it is permanent." He says this without a hint of emotion on his face. "But there's no reason to jump to conclusions. No one truly knows how the brain works. Maybe it will let you remember when you're strong enough to handle it."

 "I’m not even strong enough to cope with not having a past. How will I ever be strong enough to face whatever my brain is trying to protect me from?" I shake my head, feeling a wave of hopelessness wash over me. "And what’s the third option?"

 "Well, there are drugs that can wipe your memory. But the only thing you can control is how you choose to shape your future." Tjeck takes my hand and flashes a reassuring smile. "I see two paths. You can go to the Catrista police, let them uncover your identity, and return to your past. Or you can stay here and forge your own destiny."

 "Getting a name won't restore my memories," I say slowly.

 "I’ve seen your body, Amber." Tjeck's tone softens. "You bear marks of years of abuse, and I’m quite certain you’ve also been sexually abused. If you choose to go to the police, that’s likely the life you’ll be sent back to."

 Embarrassment floods me at the thought of him having seen my body, and I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. "And what happens if I choose to stay?"

 "Then you choose to create a new identity for yourself. But you will have to learn to navigate the life we live here, and it won’t be easy. Our lives are tough. There’s no one to serve you or prepare fancy dinners. We handle everything ourselves, knowing a gun with a silver bullet could point at us at any moment and end it all." He states this matter-of-factly.

 "Why have you chosen this life?" I want to ask why Tjeck is the one having this conversation with me instead of Adis, who I’m staying with. But I fear the answer too much.

 "Sometimes, there isn’t a choice," Tjeck replies. "It might even be a blessing not to know your past. Many people wish they could wipe their slates clean." He releases my hand. "I know you’re uncomfortable with me examining your body, but I need to check on your other wounds."

 I anticipated this moment. 

 "Do you need help with your top, or can you manage by yourself?" he asks politely. I’m wearing one of Kattie’s long shirts. I don’t respond, but I sit up and, with some difficulty, pull off the shirt, clutching the blanket around me. "You can lie down and close your eyes if it helps."

 I have just settled back when Adis steps through the door. I haven’t seen him in over a week, and for some reason, my heart races, and I blush, afraid everyone can hear it pounding.

 "Adis!" Tjeck exclaims, surprised. "I've removed the stitches from the bullet wound and was about to examine the rest."

 "I see that... I can take over from here, Tjeck," he says, glaring at him, clearly indicating that Tjeck should back off. "Thank you for your help."

 "Are you okay?" Tjeck asks, genuine concern in his voice. However, nothing in their demeanor suggests friendship; quite the opposite.

 "Now I am." Adis gives me a small, sweet smile before turning back to Tjeck. "Yes, I know I messed up badly."

 "Good!" Tjeck's tone turns hard, the warmth from our earlier conversation gone. "We need to talk about that after you’re done attending to her."

 As Tjeck leaves the room, I find myself alone with Adis. My heart races as he slowly approaches, and I don’t understand why.

 "Sorry I left you here by yourself," he says, sounding genuinely remorseful as he reaches the bed.

 "Where have you been?" I ask, though I know it’s wrong to pry into his life.

 "I needed some fresh air to clear my head. But now I’m here. Have they treated you well?" I nod. "And your name?" He seems a bit anxious.

 "Everyone calls me Amber now." At least, the few people I’ve interacted with do. "I actually kind of like it. It feels like it gives me an identity."

 "Good." His smile appears slightly forced. "I’m sure Tjeck would have done just as well as I can. But I feel it’s my responsibility to do it myself." His hand rests on my arm. "We’ll take it slowly, but you need to let go of the blanket so I can see your wounds."

 I reluctantly lift my arm to allow him access to my side, where my wounds are. His hands aren't as gentle as Tjeck's, but they leave a warm, pleasant sensation that quickens my heartbeat. I have to close my eyes and focus on my breathing… not because it hurts, but because his proximity makes me dizzy. 

 How can a man I don’t even know affect me like this? 

 Bit by bit, he examines my entire body, carefully removing the stitches from the wounds that needed closing. When he reaches one beneath my breast, I nearly pass out, forgetting to breathe. 

 "I'm almost done," he promises me. Shortly after, he pulls the blanket over me and lifts it from my legs. Although I don’t have any wounds there, he still feels along both my legs before telling me he’s finished. 

 "You need to start getting out of bed and moving your body, or you’ll lose the little muscle you have." 

 I find myself drawn to those eyes resting on me. They resemble miniature galaxies, far more captivating than the darkened ones I saw the first time he gave me my name. 

 "And you need to decide if you want to stay," he adds. 

 I already know my answer. I can’t leave, knowing these eyes will never look at me again if I do.