Something Special

Chapter 8

“Wait, what are you talking about, bro?” Ethan asked, confused. “And where the hell have you been? You leave the pack to go find your independence, and you just call up about finding a princess?!? Have you been smoking something? Are you in trouble?”

Ethan was Hunter’s older brother. They had been close until a few years ago, when Ethan started taking advantage of everything their parents would give them. Hunter wanted to earn his way to the top, not just be handed it, so he had left the pack to attend college and get experience that would benefit him. Granted, though, Ethan had a knack for remembering history, which was why Hunter called.

“I’m not in any trouble. I’ve gotten a position as an intern and I happened upon this young woman who could possibly be the lost princess of Silvermoon,” Hunter explained.

“That pack died out years ago and was taken over by rogues. Stories claim that the body of the young princess was never found, so some believe that she somehow survived,” Ethan recounted. “What makes you think you found her?”

“She has a remarkable tattoo of a cream-colored lotus on her left ankle, and she says she’s had it all her life—that it’s a birthmark, not a tattoo. And get this: her adoptive mother always tried to hide it and cover it up,” Hunter stated excitedly.

Ethan thought about what his brother had just told him. “It sounds like her parents were hiding her…but wait, if it’s her, her real parents are dead. Who was it that raised her?” Ethan pondered out loud. “I am going to research this and get back with you. In the meantime, you might try to keep an eye on her. She was being hidden from something or someone, and if you figured out who she might be, others might too,” Ethan cautioned. “And by the way, calling me on my phone is really inconvenient. If you hadn’t left the pack you could have just mind linked me.”

“Sorry I inconvenienced you, big brother. If it’s too much trouble for you then I’ll just figure it out on my own. You know that’s how I like to do everything, anyway,” Hunter scowled into the phone.

“That’s not what I meant. I’m glad you contacted me—it was good to hear from you,” Ethan explained. “This could certainly be an exciting discovery that I would love to be a part of.”

Hunter relaxed at his brother’s words. “Thank you. I appreciate any insight you can provide. Talk to you soon.”

“Hunter? Keep in touch, OK?” Ethan said just before Hunter had pressed disconnect.

****

Later that evening, Brianna left work and stopped by the grocery store to pick up some rotisserie chicken for dinner. Damon usually got home later, so she would have plenty of time to put together a nice meal to make up for breakfast. On the way home, she tried to plan foods that Damon liked. Maybe she would make a cake, since today was one of his late days. As she turned the corner by her house, she saw Damon’s truck was already in the driveway. That’s strange, she thought.

Grabbing the shopping bags and her keys, she lugged everything from the car to the house. As she opened the door, she saw Damon who was sprawled in the recliner with a beer in his hand and two empties on the table next to him.

“You’re home early. Are you ok?” Brianna panicked that he was sick or injured. His job didn’t pay for time off, so less work meant less money for bills.

“Whata you care, b***h?!” he snarled. “You got a boyfriend coming over? Don’t want the ole man around?” Damon slurred.

“Damon, you aren’t thinking clearly. I wouldn’t do anything to upset you. Please don’t be mad at me.” Brianna pleaded. “I stopped by the store and got a rotisserie chicken for dinner.”

“Ha! You finally realized your cooking is so bad you have to buy ready-made food,” he accused. “Like we have money to just buy food all the time.”

“No, I thought you liked it. I’m sorry if I made a mistake. I’ll get dinner started and make something else if you want,” Bri defended.

“Just waste more of my money!” He rose up out of the recliner. “I hate everything you make! You think you are some Martha Stewart in the kitchen when you can’t even remember what the hell I like.” Damon’s face began getting redder and redder with every word he yelled. “Maybe you do it on purpose, trying to make me want to leave you. Well guess what?” He stepped face-to-face with Brianna and backed her up against the wall. “You will NEVER be rid of me! You are stuck with me whether you like it or not!” His alcohol-tainted breath puffed in her face with each word.

“Damon, p-pl-please calm down. I just want you to be happy.” Finally, Damon backed up to give her some space, only to grab Brianna’s pictures and keepsakes of her parents and throw them across the room, glass shattering against the wall like it was water. Brianna’s heart felt like it was destroyed, along with her few precious memories of her parents. “Stop! Please stop!” she cried as she dove into the broken glass to retrieve what was left of the photos. Her shoe slipped on a piece of glass and her foot slid across the hard floor. Pain exploded in her temple as her head bounced into the corner of the end table.

“You’re not gonna get out of it that easy, b***h. Get up!” Damon staggered over to her weak figure, grabbing her collar to pull her up.

Brianna’s vision swirled around in her head, while the warm sticky blood dripped from over her eye. “Damon, please help me! It hurts so bad! Call 911. Please!” Her blood-soaked hands grasped at his shirt with her last bit of strength.

The copious amount of blood loss hastened the darkness that finally gave her rest.