webnovel

Falling Out of Place

College. Living with your friends. Freedom. Fun, right? Not exactly. Ashlyn Flanagan, the daughter to the Alpha of the Canadian Pack, it means constantly thinking about her future and what world she's going to live in. Is she going to be the journalist she's going to school to be, or is she going to be her father's right hand and potentially take over for him one day? Also, finding out that somebody is trying to kill your family due to their own personal vendetta? Even worse.

emily_thestrange · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
23 Chs

Chapter 8

Standing on the balcony of our Toronto apartment, I finished a bowl of cereal. It was different waking up to the bustling life of Toronto instead of the quiet of Talia Grove or the Oakville suburbs.

Today was the meeting with Mack Carrey. Trying to read my own emotions, I couldn't tell if I was prepared or not. I couldn't pin if I was nervous or if it was adrenaline, but a bubbling feeling grew inside of my stomach. The sun had risen hours ago but the other two I'd come to Toronto with were still asleep.

Scraping the bowl empty of milk, I went back inside. The clean apartment was peaceful, no matter the time of day. I loved Talia Grove but here, I felt like an independent adult. Putting the bowl in the sink, I grabbed one of the Mack Carrey files. He had a messy life, I felt like I was reading the script to a reality show. A lot of it wouldn't have happened if he'd chosen paths that didn't run straight into police all the time.

A throat was cleared as footsteps began to pad down the stairs. I knew it was James, and I mentally laughed at myself for recognizing him without any vocal indication. My eyes darted back at the papers when James came into view on the stairwell, without a shirt on. My eyes widened for a moment towards the paper, not expecting the lack of clothing.

"It's ten o'clock, why're you awake?" James asked, voice still sounding sleepy. He slid the t-shirt he was holding over his head, and a tinge of disappointment went through my chest. I took a deep breath, forcing my hormones under control.

"Because it's ten o'clock in the morning and we have a meeting in two hours. I'd like not to be rubbing sleep out of my eyes while we're there," I said.

James chuckled, wrapping his arms around me from behind.

"Is that a gun or are you happy to see me?" he asked, resting his chin on my shoulder.

I reached in between our bodies and pulled out the gun in my waistband. I held it in the air for a moment before putting it on the counter, continuing to read a robbery police report Mack Carrey was convicted of. I'd kept the gun on me since we left Talia Grove yesterday, getting comfortable with the weight.

"I was hoping you were just excited to see me," James kissed the side of my head. I rolled my eyes as I glanced back at him as he opened the fridge.

"I saw you nine hours ago," I commented, shuffling to the next page. I pulled my laptop over that I had on the counter and shifting my attention to the internet search of the diner we were meeting Carrey at. I scanned the areal view, scouting the ins and outs of the block.

The laptop was slid from my view and a mug of tea placed in front of me. "Have you eaten yet?"

I nodded, looking at the file, "I had a bowl of cereal already but thank you."

"Welcome," James said, kissing my forehead again. Looking up at him, I placed my hand against my hip.

"I'm guessing you're over our argument?"

James shrugged, "pretty much. We bicker all the time and no one knows how long it'll last. At the end of the day though, we're partners. Neither of us stay mad, knowing it's going to happen again."

"You're such a twit. You couldn't stay mad at me even if you tried."

James chuckled, "I know."

We looked at each other, silently. He leaned forward, placing a kiss to my lips. I grinned into the kiss, sliding my arms around his neck. James let out a laugh, wrapping his arms around my waist. It wasn't a rushed or horny kiss. It was intimate.

"God, why every time I walk in the damn room you two are making out!" Brandon yelled from the stairs. We stopped, looking up at Brandon's childish expression. I ran my eyes over his chosen outfit, a loud snort coming out of my nose. Brandon stood with his hands on his hips, wearing a unicorn onesie.

"Where the hell did you get that?" I cackled, turning out of James' arms. Brandon stomped down the stairs. Stopping in front of us, his hands returned to his hips with sass. The front of his hood featuring a plush rainbow horn, flopped forward cover his eyes.

"Your sister bought it for me. Said she found it at the mall."

"Of course, she did," I said, wiping the tears from my eyes.

"Stop making out," Brandon grumbled, dropping himself on the couch. James wrapped his arms around me from behind, nuzzling his nose into my neck. My eyes fluttered shut as a chill ran down my spine. A sigh fell out of my mouth, but I pulled his hands off me. I knew I was going to fall into a situation with James if I didn't contain myself.

James pulled my car into the parking lot of the diner. Only a few cars were scattered across the concrete. The diner sat in a busier area of Toronto, a good thing when we didn't know what Carrey wanted.

"Look," Brandon said from the backseat. Turning, I could see two people standing at the front of the building, talking. I scoffed as I recognized the second Stray standing with Taylor Malik. It was Peter Thompson. They weren't trying to hide the fact Thompson stood with a clear view of the parking lot. I leaned back against the seat, my mouth slightly open.

"Are they trying to cause a problem right off the bat?" James mumbled.

"Why's that?" Brandon asked.

I kept my eyes glued on Thompson, "don't you recognize the Stray wearing the backwards hat? He's the asshole who bit Chrissy."

Charlie unofficially banished Peter Thompson from Ontario due to Chrissy being thirteen years old at the time. Thompson had abandoned Chrissy alone once he realized that she wouldn't become magically attached to him. Another myth of werewolves. Tyler, Bill, and Tony found her at a truck stop in Alberta after reports of a feral child eating wild animals.

A wave of violent desire shot through me. I would love to jump out of this car and punch Thompson in the face. Obviously, that was something I couldn't do. I pushed the car door open, the other two following my actions. Both Strays turned to us as the car doors opened. I nodded at them as we approached, both responding in kind. I walked past them without another interaction. Peter stuck his hand out, stopping James from walking after me. A low rumble came from James' chest. Turning around, I could see the fight for control not to rip Peter's hand off his arm. I held back my disappointed sigh. Here was a perfect example why I didn't want to bring him. James reacted poorly to werewolves compared to how emotionless he was regular humans.

"Ashlyn and one other. Not all three of you," Peter stated.

My eyes, still covered by my sunglasses travelled to Brandon beside James, wanting to bring him instead. I knew Brandon's sociable personality could be helpful. I knew what chain reaction that choice would make though. Pack member or not, the Canadian world of werewolves was small, and they knew James and I were connected at the hip.

I sighed, "James, let's go."

James shoved past Peter's hand with a glare and followed me. Approaching the entrance, I looked at him over my shoulder.

"Don't say a word."

James nodded his head. At least James knew his social skills might end up with a fight. I didn't expect him to keep his word very long, however.

Entering the diner, we weren't met with hosts or a sign indicating us to wait to be seated. I scanned the diner and my eyes landed on the only two people in the space. I skidded to a stop; James frozen beside me. The two men sat at a table for four in the centre dining room. Neither were speaking or looking at each other. Both men had faces I was familiar with but one, I felt I knew more personally. It was the aged version of the man standing beside me.

Daniel Blake sat, eyes out the front window. It seemed like he hadn't noticed us, but his ears twitched, indicating he'd picked up our footsteps. I glanced at James, who was starring at his father. He nodded his head once, letting me know that he was okay to continue. Approaching them, I watched the eyes of the other man rest on me. I kept myself composed with the older werewolf staring me down, my eyes not leaving his.

"Ashlyn Flanagan, glad you could make it today."

I stopped behind the chair across from Mack Carrey. Carrey was a creepy man. His hair was thinning and almost black. Giving him a once over, I could tell his build didn't match the age of his face. James stood at my shoulder and Carrey's eyes barely flickered to him. Carrey stood, sticking his hand across the table. Rolling my shoulders back, I shook his hand. He squeezed, but I didn't let the discomfort of my bones squishing together appear on my face. I needed to have the upper hand this entire situation. Carrey surprised me by offering his hand to James next. James reached around me to shake Carrey's hand, which surprised me even more.

"Please, have a seat," Carrey indicated to the seat in front of me. I didn't look at Daniel Blake, who hadn't acknowledged us either. Carrey stared at me expectantly, almost as if he assumed I would take the seat across from Daniel, so James wouldn't have to be face to face with his father. I was tempted to, but James made the decision for me, sitting across from his father. Mack Carrey didn't move, waiting for me to sit. My gut instinct was to stay standing and wait for him to sit. I was willing to challenge him, even being half his age. I couldn't see it going well though. I sat down, continuing to glare. A small gleam of victory reflected in his eye.

"You've really grown up. I think the last time I saw you was at seven years old. You really are a gorgeous young woman," James shifted in his chair, not liking how this was starting, "it's nice to see you're going to a reputable college."

He opened his mouth to continue the roll of compliments, but I stopped him.

"Do you know who killed Bill Watts and Michael Stone? Because your phone call, and some suspicious activities we've been dealing with lately is a little too coincidental. Add in his surprise arrival," I jerked my chin in Daniel's direction, keeping my eyes locked with Carrey's. A bubbling of anger rose in my heart that I didn't know was there.

"I have to say, the deaths of those two boys were tragic. We needed to gain the attention of not only the Pack, but others too."

He hadn't answered my question, just annoyed me. Leaning back in the chair, I crossed my arms, taking the moment to glance at Daniel. He looked straight ahead past his son, but eyes flicking to me. I could feel James glaring at his father beside me. From the distance between us at the hospital, I couldn't see the differences between them but up close, I could point things out. Other than the greying hairs on Daniel's head and the deep creases on his face, James held a softness and warmth in his face that obviously came from someone else, most likely his mother Katerina. The two of them looked almost identical other than that.

"What do you want from us?" I asked, looking at Carry again. Carrey leaned forward, forearms resting on the table.

"As of late, the Pack has become a major player in the Abilities world and it's effected how people interact with us, the non-Pack members. No one is willing to work with us as not to risk infuriating the Pack. Free wolves have lost a portion of the freedom we had. No one wants to work with wolves not in uniforms. It's more trouble than it's worth for them."

"And killing my friends worked into that how?" I snapped, "you could have called for a meeting instead."

I know I'd gone into this meeting with the intention to be calm. I lost that pretty quickly.

"We needed to show the world that Pack wolves are helpless alone. One successful attack can be seen as a possibility. Twice though? It's a point. The people in our world needed to see that the Pack wolves aren't as strong as they pretend to be."

"Why don't we go outside, and I prove how wrong you are," James snarled. Carrey's eyes flickered to James and a sinister grin grew on his face. Daniel let out a single cold, humourless laugh at his son's statement.

"I see you've gotten bolder since childhood," he commented.

James kept his face straight, but his body tighten as Daniel's words came out of his mouth.

"This isn't the time, Daniel," I said, "James, go outside and make sure Brandon isn't betting my car away on some impromptu poker game."

I continued staring at Carrey as James stared at me. He let out an annoyed huff beside me. James had to listen to me due to Pack hierarchy, unfortunately for him. James silently got up and left. I stared over Carrey's shoulder at the far wall and waiting for the sound of the front doors to shut. When I heard the click, I turned to Daniel.

"If you would like me to continue listening to this bullshit explanation any further and have the Pack not ignore your assumed problem completely, you listen very carefully. You don't get to talk to James. You lost the opportunity to make sarcastic comments the day you left. You stay silent. Or I'll show you what happens when you fight a Pack wolf one-on-one."

Daniel smirked, "what if I already know?"

My stomach clenched, the meaning behind his words was obvious. Daniel was responsible for killing Bill and Michael. I kept my expression neutral, not responding to Daniel's words. Instead, I turned back to Carrey, amused look in his eyes.

"Was this your reason to meet? To convince me that you yourself didn't kill my Pack brothers?" I asked.

"Werewolf independence and the Pack obliterated as it is. We want our lives back to how things were before your family decided the Pack should co-exist with everyone else. Werewolves were equal, no matter if they're Pack or not. The strongest should be in power, not those who pass the crown around the elite circle."

I shook my head, "you're asking for two different things. You either can't work with the other Abilities because they're too afraid of the Pack, or you want to work without them and find them useless. Which is it?"

"Working with other Abilities is not what's important. They're just a playing chip, a means for money. Werewolf independence is most important."

"If you haven't realized, werewolves like yourselves have a lot of independence. More than what's been given in the past. I cannot speak for my father, but in my opinion, what you're asking for isn't possible. In another meeting with Charlie present, we can discuss finding work for yourselves but as you know, any decisions need to go through Charlie," I explained.

Carrey's eyes flickered back and forth on the table, going over my words. My gaze flickered to Daniel, who continued to look out the window. Carrey obviously wasn't considering Daniel's opinion.

Carrey's head raised, "I'll only meet with your father to finalize agreements. I believe you and I will be better at negotiating."

I didn't know how I felt about the comment. Was I manipulatable in his mind or did he seriously thinking I was worth negotiating with? Footsteps approached and stopped at my side. James stood formally, like a member of the secret service. With his body language, James was annoyed and deciding it was time to go. I bit back the smirk I felt rising. A grumpy child, as always. I stood and pulled my sunglasses off my head, ready to slide them back down my face. I stopped though, one more thing to say coming to my mind.

"By the way, next time any of you spend time in my woods or come near my house, I'll set bear traps. If I catch you, that'll be the least painful part of your day."

Mack Carrey let out a humoured cackle at my threat and Daniel smirked, eyes trailing on his son. Carrey stood again, and we shook hands. It felt casual, like a business deal wrapping up. I had a strong inclination that Carrey would screw me over the moment he could.

James followed me out of the diner without a word. As the door shut behind us, it dawned on me that no waiter had approached us. I wondered how much Carrey had paid them to stay away. Walking across the front of the building, I could hear Brandon laughing with the two Strays before I caught sight of them. Any human on the block probably could. I rolled my eyes behind my sunglasses. Of course, while I was inside finding out if our lives were at risk, Brandon was making friends with the people we were concerned about. As I passed, I pressed my keys into Brandon's chest after clicking the doors unlocked. Without a glance at Peter and Taylor, I slid into the back seat.

As Brandon and James got into the front seats, I took my cell phone out of my sweater pocket and turned the recording off. Brandon sat in the driver's seat and faced James, opening his mouth. James gave Brandon a look, words stopping in his throat. Brandon glanced back at me, but I ignored him, looking out the window.

"Okay then," Brandon muttered, turning the car on.

The drive back to Talia Grove was silent other than the radio. I was doing my best to process explaining the meeting to others without opinions. Daniel's presence set off an anger I was having a hard time accepting. I was always protective of James, but Daniel's face made it grow exponentially. Charlie would only want the facts though. He wouldn't want me to tell him how I had concluded Daniel was a killer.

Our silence continued through parking my car in the garage and walking to the house. I was unlocking the front door when I heard Brandon say, "why do I feel like mum and dad are going to fight again?"

I shoved the door open and spun on him, "meaning?"

Brandon shrunk back a little. He obviously didn't realize he'd said it loud enough for me to hear.

"James was really pissed off looking when he came outside and you don't look like it went well either," he explained, "when one of you is ticked off, it ends up with you two in a really loud argument."

I clenched my teeth together, I considered throwing a shoe at Brandon with some sarcastic comment that I was taking my frustration out on him instead. James walked past me into the house, ignoring Brandon and me. I flipped Brandon off instead and walked into the house.

I went up to my room, knowing Charlie was at work. There was no point in calling him to tell him about the meeting. He'd just tell me to wait until he got home. Shutting my door, I took off my shoes and flopped onto my bed. I stared at the ceiling, trying to calm my brain. The confidence I'd forged during the meeting had disappeared. The gas tank was empty. I was tired and Daniel Blake's surprise appearance left me a tinge confused. The meeting played through my brain. I did my best to read further into the words out of Carrey's mouth. However, the words Daniel said to James and I kept overriding everything else though. I wished now that I would have hit him or thrown something at him.

I rubbed my eyes, dazed from the impromptu nap. Trying to figure out how much of the day I'd unintentionally wasted, I rolled over with my hand out to grab my phone. Seeing the space on the side table where I'd left it empty, I checked my blankets and the floor, wondering if I'd just imagined putting it on the table. Sighing, I had a feeling I knew where it had gone. I went down to the second floor, pushing James' door fully open. He sat at his desk, back to me and typing on his laptop. My phone sat next to his elbow.

"I e-mailed the file to Charlie for you. He called me when you didn't answer your phone," James said, not turning around. I leaned against the door frame, watching him. He continued scrolling on his laptop, ignoring me.

"You listened to it?" I asked. James made a sound of confirmation in his throat, "and?"

James rotated in his chair, looking at me. James let out a heavy exhale, reading the worry on my face. He walked over and stopped in front of me. We stared at each other, and I hoped he didn't think I'd overstepped by threatening Daniel. I felt guilty for being harsh to him at the meeting, especially in front of Carrey and Daniel as well. Lightly taking my hand, James pulled me further into his room. With his free hand, James indicated towards his bed. Tentatively, I sat down and he knelt in front of me.

"I was pissed at you during the meeting for making me go outside. No surprise there. But I do understand the worries you had before now, however. I did get riled up easily. I was on edge walking in, wanting to make sure Carrey stayed in his lane and seeing my father threw me for a loop," James pauses, "I heard what you said to him. Thank you. I assume you left an impact if my father listened to you and kept his mouth shut when I came back."

The anxiety that had been clenching my heart released and it was able to beat normally again.

"I don't care about leaving an impact on him. I didn't want you to feel like a target. Daniel's already caused enough damage. Making jokes, that's not okay," I looked at my lap with a shrug, "I'd rather you be mad at me than upset about him again."

James' hand rested on my chin, lifting my face. A jolt of surprise went through me as James softly kissed me. I leaned into him, my head swimming with the dizzying warmth. After a moment, James stood up. He went to his desk and sat down on his chair. I held back a pout of disappointment.

"How do you want to handle this Carrey problem?" James asked.

"It's a problem that didn't need to happen and I don't understand. They could've just talked to us. They didn't need to kill anyone," my voice dropped through the last sentence, and I sighed, "the Pack is never going to break apart though. Killing members is only going to bring us together, not make us separate. Do they not understand how this works?"

"The number of Strays in Canada is at least half the size of the Pack. Their numbers are high enough that they could threaten us with their own Pack. I'm going to guess he thinks they can overtake us, especially if we're distracted with things being thrown our way."

I groaned and dropped backwards, my upper body bouncing on the mattress.

"Going to my father and basically admitting you're behind the murders of Pack members isn't a smart move, but what's the point of coming to me? Tyler is much more decisive, and Drew is the businessman and so much easier to negotiate with."

James chuckled, "you'll never understand how similar you and Charlie are. If Charlie decided you were the next Alpha, it wouldn't shock anybody."

The Alpha of the Pack chose who their successor was. It could be whoever they deemed fit; it didn't have to be their children. Whoever wanted the job could fight for it. That rarely happened. The decision of the Alpha was considered all but sacred. Tyler was the obvious choice to me.

"Tyler is going to get it," I commented, "you could be the Alpha, if you told Charlie you were interested."

James snorted, appearing over top me. I sat up and tilted my head up at him. James stared down at me, a serious expression on his face. I expected him to say something that would put me in a bad mood. Instead, he bopped me on the nose with his finger and smirked, a silent chuckle shaking through his upper body. I paused in surprise for a moment then recovered, laughing along with him.

"Ashlyn, if you're going to blow him, don't start laugh. That always ruins a guy's self-esteem. And close the door. Your brothers are home."

My laughter halted, both turning to the door. Brandon had his head stuck through the opening with a ridiculous smile plastered on his face. James shoved him out of the room, slamming the door. Brandon said something unintelligent as he walked away. I laid back on the bed, dropping a pillow over my face.

"Brandon has got more words in his brain than he knows what to do with," James said. I felt the mattress dip beside me.

"It's not like we don't put ourselves into these situations," I grumbled from under the pillow. I cringed, knowing that introduced a conversation I wasn't in the mood for.

"You want to talk about it?" James asked in a low voice. I bit down on my bottom lip, regretting the comment more.

"I guess so," I said, knowing I'd set myself up for this. The pillow was pulled from my face.