The Werewolf Bond

Gone with the Wind

My heart raced as the nurses wheeled the stranger away.

I stood dumbfounded, unsure of what I had just seen as the image of his black eyes burned into my mind.

“Ma'am, you're bleeding,” the nurse said.

Her words awoke me to reality, and I felt the sharp pain in my wrist. I looked at it, and saw that it was where the IV had torn out of my skin as I rushed out of the bed. Somehow, I was unaware of it, until I heard the nurse speak about it.

“Honey, you're bleeding,” Ralph added, and I hated the sound of his voice. He tried to come near me, but I quickly surrendered myself to the nurse, who quickly pressed some cotton wool on it to staunch the bleeding. She then led me back to the hospital bed, where I sat, grateful that my so-called husband did not touch me.

She turned and left, promising to be back, while I heard her from afar, my mind still trying to process what had happened. That was when it struck me that my wrist was still vibrating where he'd gripped me, the very one that the IV had been torn out of. I wondered if he had done it to hold my bleeding, and if my blood was on his hands where he was now.

He was a mystery, I realised, and had brought life to me since he held up that card, a relief from my reality. Now that he was gone, the room felt emptier without him, his absence a void that had now swallowed the fleeting sense of safety he'd given me.

I turned to look at Ralph, and he froze, his face uncertain before it was averted from me. I knew he was unwilling to look at me, and somehow didn't care. His betrayal that I had found out only that morning—those texts on his phone with my best friend—had broken any last vestiges of trust, and left me without desire for him. Now, I hated him.

The nurse returned with some plaster and bandage after about five minutes, and I felt the slow burn as she started to examine it.

"Who was he?" I asked, my throat rough as the nurse stood close.

She stared up, confused. "The guy who brought you in?”

I nodded.

“Honestly, I have no idea. He didn't give a name when he brought you in, and he said he didn't need to give his name because your husband was on his way. All he wanted was for us to begin treating you.”

“And how is he now?” I asked.

She hesitated, her forehead creasing. “Oh. He's alright. They say he's recovered and gone.”

“Gone?”

“He didn't take anything of yours with you, did he?”

“No.”

“You wanted something from him?”

“No. Forget. But what happened to him?”

“He was alright as soon as they took him to a room, and they let him rest. Then, when they searched, he wasn't there. We think he only faked his fainting to get away from something."

“Something like what?”

She shrugged. "Sometimes things happen. People slip away. He could have been a criminal, or someone on the run who only helped you. He had paid the deposit for your bills as soon as he came, though, and everyone still wonders why he got away after bringing you in."

Absent-minded, I tried to think of everything. Of his card trick, and the fainting, and the eyes. For a moment, I wanted to ask the nurse about it, but Ralph was thanking her for her care, and I didn't want to say anything close to him. Maybe he’d come back. Hopefully.

I wanted to thank him.

He never did in the three days that followed, and when I was discharged on the fourth, I left with my body weak but my mind a storm. Ralph was there, offering to take me home, but I knew his voice was laced with false care. I yearned to scream, to ask him about the affair, the lies, the wish for me to die. I wanted to ask him how many times he returned to her while I lay in the hospital, but the words remained in my throat, choked by exhaustion.

Resigning to my fate, I got into his car and we went home.

The town receded as the car drove through the roads, another rain pouring down the panes. I pressed my forehead to the glass as it moved, the stranger's face flashing before me the whole time—those green pools, and their changing into that dreadful black.

I would never know what it truly was, I decided. My death crawled close with every new day, and with me now having to return home with Ralph, to sleep beside him while knowing what he'd done, I feared he would want to hasten me death for the death instance money, and the thought filled me with paranoia.

To feel better, I tried to think of a better memory and chased the ace of spades in my mind, the card he'd spun so effortlessly. I wondered if it meant something, and how it disappeared from his fingers like smoke. Was he a true magician?

Why didn't he come to say goodbye?

Would I ever see him again?

The question teased me, a strange hurt unfolding in my chest, and I was still thinking about it when the car came to a halt at a red light. There, Ralph cleared his throat.

"You all right?" He asked, his voice strained and guilty.

I did not answer, my gaze locked on the pouring rain. I did not want to answer. Knowing that he wanted me dead had changed my heart towards him, and I knew I would never trust anything he said to me after. Not a single one.

To want me to die so he could split the insurance money?

I would never let him have it.

Maybe it was time for me to run.