Page 16 of Eclipsed Legacy

Mel smiles, genuinely this time, albeit, slightly amused. “You really don’t give yourself enough credit, Tala. You’re really not the asshole you think you are.” Part of me needed to hear that; but the other part feels like I’ve been stabbed. I don’t deserve that. But she doesn’t know the full story.

I deflect. “Are we going to talk about me or are you going to spill?”

Mel shakes her head. “Well, I had this guy that I’d been seeing. His name is Aaron. One of my tires popped on my way to work. He was the only one to stop and help. We exchanged numbers and really hit it off. He was really sweet; a great listener. Then...” She shrugs. “I don’t know. He just ghosted me. After six months. We had sex and then he ghosted me. I told Ricky about him. That’s how serious it— how serious I thought it was.” She scoffs. “I was even about to tell you. That was the last step. Get approval from Tala. If you liked him, I’d keep ‘im. I had put it off because I was nervous. If you didn’t like him, I knew it wasn’t meant to be. I had really hoped you would…” She sighs. “But I never got that chance. I guess he showed me who he was anyway.”

I rub her arm. “Hey, you can’t beat yourself up for having a heart,” I say. I’m also slightly relieved her reasoning for not telling me about this asshole wasn’t what I originally thought. I also kind of want to beat his ass, but I know that’s not what Mel needs to hear right now. Aaron… I hold back a snort. What a douchey name.

With the rain easing, Mel turns off her flashers, and we continue our ride. By the time she drops me off, it’s a little after midnight. I tell Mel to be careful and remind her to lock her door when she gets home. She waves goodnight, not pulling away until she sees me enter my apartment. Once I’m on the other side of my door, alone in the sanctuary of my apartment, my resolve shatters. I lock the door and tear off the damned hood before realizing my hands are still stained with my grandmother’s blood. I march to the bathroom, turn on the shower, and jump in before it is even hot. The cold water sends goosebumps over my body, hardens my nipples, and I can’t help but hug myself, either for warmth or support. Slowly the water gets hot then scalding, but I don’t move. Beneath me, red water circles the drain, slowly turning pink then clear. But the skin around my nails still contains evidence of my grief. I soap down my hands, scrubbing harder than necessary, until I am certain no part of her remains. I sit down, letting the water purify me. I can’t push it down. Not anymore. Slowly, the water turns cold again as I shed burning tears too violent for any to witness. Finally, after I-don’t-know-how-much time, I get out and throw on some comfy clothes and welcome the peaceful abyss of sleep.

Chapter 6

It’s early when I awake. There’s some sort of bass pounding. I stretch out and roll over, hugging my pillow close to me. The pounding stops, and my body starts to relax again. But the pounding soon resumes. What the hell? It’s then I realize there’s someone at my door. I blink, and as the events from the previous night begin rushing back, I struggle against the wave of emotions that wash over me. I want nothing more than to stay in the warm and comforting embrace of my bed. But the pounding continues.

Groggily, I stand, slowly walking to the door before realizing that I am in sweatpants and a bralette. “Just a minute,” I shout to whoever it is. I open my second drawer and throw on a random graphic tee before stumbling my way to the front door. I undo the deadbolt, and when I open the door, I am surprised to see two officers. They look solemn. No. They can’t be here to—

“Are you Tala Ward?” the tall one asks.

I nod. “Yeah, I am,” I say, mouth dry from both exhaustion and the lack of fluids in my body.

“May we come in?” the other officer asks.

“What’s going on?” I ask, eager to get this over with.

The two share a look. “We are afraid that your grandmother, Raina Ward, has been in an accident. You were listed as her emergency contact.”

I swallow. My body prepares to repeat its actions from the previous night. “An accident? Is-is she okay? Was she driving in the rain?” Even as I speak the words, knowing they are complete bullshit, I can’t help but hope they will confirm that last night was just an awful dream. That, sure, she was in an accident— an actual accident, in her car— but that she’s fine now. Under different circumstances, I’d probably even be proud of how genuine I seem, of how well I lie through my teeth, but I know, for part of me, this is genuine. Genuine, naïve hope.

“No,” the officer says. “There was a fire. It seems to have been caused by the stove. We think she may have left it on, but unfortunately, she died last night.”

And there is it. The harsh reality once more brought to light. It wasn’t a nightmare. She’s dead. Dead. I begin to choke, and I brace myself against the doorframe for support as I begin to lose feeling in my legs.

“Is there anything we can do?”

I shake my head numbly. “No…no, you can go,” I say. One of them hands me a card, says sorry for my loss, and they leave. For a few minutes, I stay in my doorway, gripping tightly to the doorframe, until I realize my knuckles hurt. I pull myself up grasping the doorframe, one hand over another, like I am climbing, before I release my grip. Flexing my hands, I re-enter the house. I text my mom, letting her know we have officially been notified of Grandma’s accident and can begin our “public” mourning process. I don’t feel like calling her just yet. She’ll want to cry and comfort me, and I’m not ready for that.

As fucked up as it sounds, I have more important things to worry about, like finding out why the hell they did this and stopping them from killing anyone else I love. And shit! I still have to get a hold of Ricky and get my car back from the mall. I try to call him, but there’s no answer. I don’t bother leaving a voicemail. Ricky’s under twenty-five, so he wouldn’t listen to it anyway. I’m a little frustrated. I know I shouldn’t be, but I have to start preparing for the full moon. It’s that much more difficult for me to carry out my duties if it’ll take me three hours to get anywhere. With the other wolves being in the area, we have to be ready. We all change together with the strongest wolves guiding us; one leads from the front, showing us where to run and hunt, while the other “leads” from the back, ensuring no one in our group gets left behind. We need to be in a formation that will allow us to defend our elderly while being able to hit back if necessary. This strategy taught me not only how to defend our pack, but it showed me that leading doesn’t always mean being front and center. Good leaders can adapt and aren't afraid to follow or put the welfare of others first. Grandma and I usually swap between the front and back on the line…but it’s just me this time. I need to decide who will be my second tonight.

I consider Lizzy; she’s smart, looks after others, but she’s also high strung and not great with criticism. Ray’s my bud, but he can be too passive, as he’s often too concerned with hurting people’s feelings, rather than getting things done. Ricky can easily adapt and is assertive, but he’s also, well, Ricky. Most of my other cousins…I’d trust them to aid me in a fight, but I wouldn’t trust their ability to lead, so can’t really consider them at this point. Uncle Evan has had a drinking problem for the last eight years, since his wife died, so he’s not an option. Aunt Darla’s quiet, and Uncle Ricardo has made it clear that he never wants to be in that position. The pack members that aren’t directly related to us are either elderly or too young to know their asses from a hole in the ground.

As much as it hurts my pride and may be counterproductive if I ever to want to be alpha, Uncle Carl is probably my best option. He is smart, resourceful, and he has dedicated more time to the pack than most people give him credit for. If last night was any indication, even if it does have me a little butt hurt, he isn’t afraid to hurt people’s feelings if he feels he is doing what is best for the pack.

I stop and stare at my phone, trying to work myself up to this phone call. My cheeks are already hot with shame. I don’t like asking for help, especially from the guy who questioned my ability in a very public way, but I know this is for the best. Be objective, Tala.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I select Uncle Carl’s contact and hit the call button. The other line begins to ring, and I feel myself growing more anxious with each additional ring. I do not want to have this conversation. Pack first, Tala. Pack first. But this would be so much easier if I didn’t feel threatened by him. After the fifth ring, I consider hanging up. It’s got to go to voicemail soon. Please go to voicemail. I could say I tried and be off the hook.

“Hello? Tala?” My heart nearly stops when he answers, causing me to delay in my answer.

“Yeah, it’s me. I—” I was going to say ‘have a favor to ask,’ but I quickly reconsider. I don’t want him to feel like I need him or that I really am incapable. “—I was thinking about who I would have serve as my second tonight. After carefully considering everyone, I think you would make the best fit.” I pause, waiting for him to respond in some way, hoping to gauge whether he’ll be a dick about it.

He seems taken aback, “Well—I-I mean, I wasn’t expecting you to ask me. I’d be honored. Thank you, Tala. About last night—” Oh God. I tense, just dreading where this could go. “—I hope you don’t feel like I meant it as an insult. You’ve always worked hard and put the pack first.” I really have. I’m nodding even though he can’t see me. I want to smile, but I am just waiting for the other shoe to drop. “I can see you’re still doing that in asking me for help—” and there it is! Damn it! “You’re stubborn, and like many wolves, prideful; you don’t like to be wrong or admit when you are. You can’t help but act on your emotions, but part of that you get honestly and the rest is probably a matter of being young and dumb.” My mouth drops. Is he fucking serious? Just when I feel myself preparing to go off, he continues “—but that’s what a good leader does, recognizes their areas of weakness and uses the strength of the pack to compensate... You’re a lot like your grandmother.” I hold my breath. “I always loved my mom. Her stubbornness was what the pack needed, but she was stubborn to a fault. You know that your grandmother was never great at asking for help. I see a lot of you in her, but I’m glad you know when to reach out.” I hear him choke, and I release the breath I had been holding. Is he crying? Uncle Carl? Crying?

“Thanks, Uncle Carl,” I say swallowing an imaginary lump in my throat. “It means a lot.”

I hear him sniffle, “Yeah, well, I meant every word of it— even the young and dumb part.” He chuckles. Uncle Carl and I haven’t ever been super close. I’m closer to his wife than I have ever been to him. If anyone else had called me that…I’d probably prove them right by punching them in the face. I think I understand him a little better than before. Much like me, and Grandma, he’s stubborn and blunt as hell, but he cares. I kind of thought he was just a rich asshole, which he is, but he’s a rich asshole with a heart.

“I look forward to leading with you tonight,” I say.

“Me too,” he replies.