Chapter Four: Ambushed

Truck's POV

I stared at Gem as her question lingered around in the air. What did they want? How much of the truth could she handle? Did she want to hear that in the 21st century my dad and I were werewolves terminators? Certainly not. I ran a hand through my auburn curls. Gem stared at me expectantly. I couldn't not answer her. After a few more minutes of silence, I shrugged my shoulders. "Beats me," I answered nonchalantly.

Gem narrowed her perfectly slanted eyes at me. "Stop lying." I reached for her face and she pulled away at the last minute. She made a face and I laughed at her.

"Babe, c'mon," I coaxed, "you know I hate when you're mad at me." I frowned slightly. Gem released a sigh. "Truck, sometimes I feel like I don't even know you." I stared at her, too stunned to speak. What exactly did she mean by that?

"Of course you know me, Gem. You know me better than anyone I've ever dated." Gem's shoulders slumped. "Then why do you keep on hiding stuff from me?" she relented. I took Gem's hands in mine. "I'm not, baby. I promise."

Her expression looked like she wanted to believe me. I couldn't let Gem know all the ugly truths about me. I didn't want her to see me in that light, I couldn't lose her. Satisfied with the answer I had just given her, she leaned over to plant a kiss on my lips.

I returned her hungry kiss. My hands rolling all over her curveous body. We would have kept at it if her front door hadn't opened up. We both groaned at the same time.

"Gem," someone called out, into the stillness of the night. "That's my cue," Gem whispered, exiting the car. Gem ambled up to her porch, blew me a kiss and then rushed inside.

I drove off with a heavy mind.

When I got home the sudden empty feeling I usually got whenever I opened my front door, came over me. I clicked the lights on and kicked my shoes off. If my dad hadn't been a complete jerk, I wouldn't have moved out prematurely. I flipped the TV on, wishing to fill the void with some random noise. There was a clutter in the kitchen so I headed there.

My heart leaped out of my chest when I noticed the tan wolf from earlier, casually feasting on a meal on the top of my kitchen counter. I pivoted on my heel with the sole purpose of heading upstairs for my silver bullet gun.

I was stopped in my tracks when I realized I was cornered by four angry, snapping wolves.

I sucked in a sharp breath and exhaled. The tan wolf circled me slowly. "I ought to just kill you now." He gnashed his pointy canines at me, clearly meant in an attempt to intimidate me. I gulped. I couldn't remember the last time I had been this afraid.

The werewolf stretched up on its hind legs and clutched my throat in his furry palm. I really couldn't breathe now. I kicked out at him. He twisted my neck so that I was staring deeply into his harsh eyes.

"But," he continued his sentence from earlier, "you shall prove to be useful in the near future." My mind was reeling. Was this insane or what?

His teeth came within inches of my neck. I thrashed about, I wouldn't go down without a fight.

A shot rang out in the distance. The beast snapped and in a frenzy I was released from its strong hold. I coughed. Another shot echoed, only this one sounded like it connected. There was a yelp and the werewolves broke through the narrow kitchen glass window in great hurry.

A charade of glasses rained everywhere, but I was too caught up in trying to get my breath back to notice.

I slumped to the ground, still coughing and wheezing. I could hear the pitter patter of footsteps as the person inched closer towards me. I blinked when I saw who stood in front of me. "Dad?" I tried out.

Dad stretched his hand out towards me, helping me out. Behind him Thomas came in tow with a much needed bottle of water. I gulped the liquid gratefully.

"You should be thankful I was bringing Thomas home. I would rather you die than to turn into that disgusting beast." "Thanks Dad," I muttered. "But they know what we're doing."

Dad snorted. "And? All the more reason for them to fear us and not the other way around." Dad walked around my kitchen, examining any and everything. "I won't rest until this town is completely free from those disastrous pests," he declared. Beside him I noticed that Thomas visibly shook. Poor kid.

Dad and Thomas spent another hour or so making sure I was okay, despite my many protests that I was fine. After some time Dad finally got the message and decided to depart for the night. "Make sure you sleep with that gun real close to you," he advised. I nodded my head and bade them goodnight.

As soon as they left, I walked around the small apartment to make sure that everything was still intact.

A small part of me wanted no part in what Dad was doing, but then there was the other part of me that loved it.

Heaven, help me. Who was I becoming?