That was her name.
It was a beautiful name. And the fact that our names started with the same letter made me believe that we were meant to be friends.
She was really young. So, I’d protect her. If someone ever tried to be mean to her, I’d stop them. I’m small for my age, but I can yell really loud. I’d protect her like a big friend is supposed to.
I thought maybe we could sit on the grass together and eat chewy gummies. I’d even give her the red ones, even though those are my favorite.
It sounded exciting, and suddenly, I felt the urge to look for her.
Maybe she might be as lonely as I was. Otherwise, why would she wander into our yard alone the other day?
Caroling had told me the house. White fence with the little sunflowers in the yard. She said it was near the corner where the mailman always gets stuck opening that squeaky gate. I remembered that part.
I dug through my box of toy monsters and picked the purple one that glowed. It was a gift Mum had given me when I turned seven, but I never really used it that much.
It was the soft kind, not the squishy kind, but still good.
Kasmine would probably like it. It was clean enough. I wiped its little eye on my sleeve, just in case.
I didn’t tell anyone I was going out. I just went and slipped out the back door and ran.
The atmosphere was really warm as it was still springtime, Maybe we have become good friends before the summer break, and then we’d have more than enough time to play together when Mum and Dad wouldn’t be at home.
When I got to the corner, I saw the houses lined up like a guessing game. One had a bike on the porch. Another had clothes swinging on a line. I didn’t know which one was hers. My stomach twisted a little.
So I started walking slowly at first, then a little faster. I peeked through yards, looking for sunflowers. I looked for anything that might look like her.
Maybe she was inside. Should I knock on each door, asking for a certain Kasmine?
But what if it wasn’t the right house? What if someone yelled at me didn’t want to get in trouble.
My fingers tightened around the purple monster. It made a soft squisil.
I was about to give up when I heard something… It was laughter. Tiny and sweet like bells, but warmer.
I froze.
That was her.
I ran toward the sound, around the side of a tall bushy fence, and peeked through a crack in the wood slats. My heart pounded too fast like it wanted to run out of my chest.
There she was.
Her bright smile almost hurt to look at. Her brown hair looked so long and beautiful. Her green eyes were squinty from laughing too hard.
She was on the grass, playing some kind of clapping game with another girl. There were three boys tossing a ball nearby and another girl with braids twirling in circles like she was a ballerina.
They were all laughing.
And she looked… happy.
I waited for her to look up and see me. Maybe she’d smile again like she did in our yard. Or maybe she’d wave or run over… But she didn’t. She didn’t even glance my way. She was too happy to notice a sad boy standing at her fence.
Then I realized she didn’t need me.
She wasn’t like me. I had thought wrong.
I thought maybe-maybe she was lonely too. That maybe we were the same. And that I could give her something. Like the purple monster. Or a friend.
But she already had them.
All of them.
I didn’t know why my chest started hurting. It just did.
My eyes got hot, and I bit my lip so hard I could taste something weird and metal-y. The toy felt stupid in my hand now, and I hated it. I shoved it in my pocket and turned around fast.
I didn’t run this time. I just walked slowly, almost like the world had gotten heavier,
When I got home, I just went upstairs, pulled the blanket over my head, and whispered to myself, “It’s fine. I don’t need her
But I think I did.
And that made everything worse.
KESTER.
I swear to fuck, I didn’t want to answer my phone since it was my father calling.
I knew my father didn’t call unless something was boiling under his wrinkled skin. And honestly? If this call could irritate him a little-drag it out, make him squirm-then it won’t be a bad idea to frustrate the old fucker a little bit.
It would keep me occupied as I drove home. Plus, I was still very upset about not being able to finish what I had set out to do tonight. But it was fine. As long as Kasmine was the one who had stopped me, I was fine.
If she says Melissa gets to live, then so be it. That’s how it works now!
I answered the call while driving at an unhealthy speed. I was in a hurry to return home to my baby.
“Yes?” I said flatly, not bothering with the useless pleasantries he probably still thought he deserved.
I knew my tone would piss him off. That was the point.
Let the old fuck stew in it.
There was stale silence. The kind that used to make me sit straighter as a kid, hands on my knees, waiting to be reprimanded like a dog pissing where it shouldn’t.
But that version of me? That pathetic little boy is fucking dead.
I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel, my eyes fixed on the road as I muttered, “Are you going to speak or just breathe like a fucking pervert?”
That got him.
He let out a sharp exhale like I’d poked something under his skin, and he was bleeding ego.
“Kester,” he finally said, “Jorja’s threatening to divorce me.”
I scoffed loud enough just to make sure he heard it.
That was it?
That was why he called me?
I almost laughed, but I caught myself. Not because I cared-God no-hut because I was curious. I wanted to hear what kind of pathetic spin he’d put on this.
“And that’s supposed to be my business, how?”
“She’s your mother.”
No, she’s your wife. That’s your fuck-up to deal with, not mine.” I shot back, keeping my voice flat and dead. “If she finally wants out of that stale, loveless circus you call a marriage, I’d say she deserves a standing ovation.”
More Kickass Werewolf Reads
Dive into our collection of free werewolf romance novels—where fierce Alphas, daring heroines, and heart-stopping twists await. Every story burns with forbidden desire, loyalty, and destiny. Don’t wait—here’s a world where love bites hard and nothing is stronger than the call of the mate.
Leave a Reply