The gray metallic BMW did not fit the scene around them. The warehouse was rundown and beat up. The convertible in front of it was not. In fact, it was freshly waxed and polished, gleaming in the sun. Isaac stared at it for a long moment before his gaze fell to the black high heel exiting from it. His eyes moved, following the path of lovely legs to the little black dress. Isaac had to admit, Amber knew how to make an entrance. And she certainly didn't fit into their current environment.
The young woman approached the warehouse, clutch bag under her arm. Amber obviously wasn't worried about her car, seeing as she didn't bother to lock it. She either figured the area was abandoned or no one was a threat to her. Isaac went back and forth between looking at the car and Amber. It was difficult to choose which to look at. The M3 Convertible was a beautiful car. But Amber was a beautiful woman. And he probably had no chance of having either… well, maybe he could afford a BMW someday.
"He's not here," Isaac said as she passed him on the stairs. Amber paused, hand on the railing, one foot on the top stair. She looked down at the teenager. He returned her gaze, lips parted and showing off perfect teeth. Amber placed her weight on her back foot, turning to him, back to the stair railing. Isaac was an attractive young man, she had to admit. Good teeth. Bewitching eyes. Adorable curls. And that jaw. It was on par with Derek's, maybe even better. He was better looking than quite a few of her models.
Amber came down a step, so her higher foot was on level with him. Isaac swallowed.
"Where is he?" she asked.
"I dunno. Derek isn't big on telling us where he's going," the teen answered. His eyes lowered before he turned his head to look directly ahead again. He heard her sigh. Her heels tapped against the stairs as she went down once more. Then the step creaked as she sat next to him.
"I can wait."
Isaac looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She crossed her legs at the ankles, causing her body to turn slightly. She looked straight ahead just like he did. They were both quiet for a long time. What was there to say for either of them? They didn't know each other. Amber had just shown up the night before and then left after a private word with Derek. And Isaac was a kid that attended her old high school.
The two of you have a lot in common.
Amber looked at Isaac. That's what Derek had said the night before. They had a lot in common, but what? She was turning her head to look away when she noticed a mark on Isaac's hand. It wasn't something many people would notice. It was just a couple shades darker than his skin. Usually, you'd have to search for it and actually know what you were looking for. Amber hadn't been looking for it, but she knew what it was.
She reached for his hand. In a quick flash, she noticed a belt wrap around Isaac's hand. The teenager jumped away from her.
"A lot in common, huh," Amber mumbled under her breath.
Isaac pulled his hand away and held it tightly in the other. He glanced at Amber, cautious. Amber recognized that fear in his eyes, but it was more than that. He looked like a threatened animal that had just been wounded. Amber had seen that look so many times in the mirror.
"I understand," she said softly.
"You couldn't possibly understand," he replied. Amber looked at him. She was quiet. There was a specific way to deal with abused children. She knew from experience. For her, she'd never felt like anyone was in her corner until she met the Hales. Isaac had probably felt the same way about Derek. But Derek didn't understand. Amber knew that from experience, too.
"I do understand. It's scary. Not having the power to fight back," she told him. "Scary knowing that your father is capable of such violence. Of so much terror. And to his own child."
Isaac looked at her.
"Sometimes I'd look in my father's eyes and it felt like he wasn't even there anymore," she said.
How was it that they had the same eyes? Her mother had told her that for years. It was something she'd been so proud of. It was so rare for black children to have blue eyes. But there was her little angel with bright blue eyes to match her father's. But at times like these, even though she couldn't see the color through the blur of her tears, she wished that her eyes weren't the same as his, weren't the same as this monster's.
He grabbed and pulled her dark curls, causing her to fall back. That was always the worst to her. A punch to the face. A kick to the ribs. Not as bad as her hair being pulled. She had this fear that one day her father would pull too hard and her hair would rip from her scalp, her head bleeding out. She realized it was an irrational fear compared to the rest of the frightening situation, but it was something that was there.
The relief she felt when he let go was cut short by the back of her head hitting the hardwood floor. She closed her eyes, her head swimming in pain. Headache. It'd be there for hours.
"Daddy, please," she begged. She hated to call him that when he was in one of his moods. However, she hoped that it would alleviate her pain, make him stop. Sometimes the monster went away. Sometimes it continued its reign of terror.
Her head whipped to the side, cheek burning from the landing of his heavy hand. The tears fell from her eyes even faster. She had to get away. Using her feet, she pushed herself against the hardwood floor, moving from beneath him. She tried to turn onto her stomach, but he moved swiftly. He picked her up by her arms, her feet hovering inches from the floor.
Amber stared into her father's eyes. He was a beautiful man whose features had been distorted into those of a vicious monster. No, he wasn't the type of monster you read about in fairy tales or saw in movies. He was the one you read about in the newspaper, but never saw, because he disguised himself so well. This monster's disguise: war hero and loving, widowed father.
He threw her. Her back hit the wall. Her head smashed into it. She whimpered before forcing herself to her feet. Amber grabbed the corner of the wall and pulled herself into the hallway. She ran to her room, listening to the heavy footfall behind her.
She nearly ran into the door frame as she turned into her room. She turned on her toes, pushing the door shut behind her. A second later, there was a huge bang against it. The door shook and Amber held onto the doorknob for dear life.
"Amber Nicole Farrell, move away from the door!" her father shouted. Amber closed her eyes, but didn't respond. He didn't even sound like himself. "Amber!"
Then there was silence. Amber's teeth were clenched in fear. She pressed her ear to the door. Was he gone? She certainly wasn't going to open the door to check. He might still be out there. So, she waited. She stood in silence, waiting for some indication that her father was there, that he was waiting her out. But she got nothing.
Finally, she moved from the door, figuring he was gone. Still, she didn't open it. She didn't want to give any indication that she was letting her guard down. If she stayed here and quiet, maybe he'd think she was still sitting against the door.
The door opened with a bang and Amber immediately turned. She received another slap to the face. Shocked, she fell back onto her bed. He pinned her arms to the bed with one hand. Amber made no attempt to fight back. He was stronger than her, being a former soldier. He was still in great shape. She took a punch to her ribs. She took several hits to the ribs. She stopped counting them after a while, trying to focus on staying conscious.
The last thing she felt was the back of her father's hand against her right eye and everything went black. The next thing she saw were the blue eyes of a Beta. Derek.
"We may change into wolves, but our transformation is nowhere near as frightening as theirs," Amber said in a soft voice. Isaac looked at her sadly. Amber took his hand gently, squeezing. "But we got out. We made it out."
"He wasn't always like that," Isaac said, his voice cracking. Amber looked at him with empathy, her eyes full of understanding. Isaac looked into them and saw that. It was something he wasn't used to. He'd never had anyone who understood him. Understood what it was like to look at your father in terror. To live in your own home and never feel safe.
"Mine wasn't either. But Isaac, remember to hate the monster, not the person and to love the person and not the monster. That was a hard lesson for me. It was hard for me to separate my father from his problems. I loved him and the monster and that kept me in danger. And now I know what to love. But don't hold the monster against them, because we all have them."
Isaac nodded.
"What happened to your father?" he asked her.
"Mental institution. No one believed him when he told them I turned into a wolf. Yours?"
"Dead. Murdered."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
There were footsteps in the gravel nearby, which caused both wolves to look up. Derek was approaching the warehouse. A few yards away in fact. They were silent as he walked up them, his eyes studying the scene before him. His gaze landed on Amber and Isaac's bonded hands.
Amber released Isaac, standing up.
"Just who I wanted to see," she said. Derek looked at Isaac, whose gaze was focused on the ground, and then at Amber who looked at him straight on with confidence.
"Hmm," Derek said. "Let's go inside then." He stepped between her and the teenage boy, going up the steps to the entrance. Amber followed behind him.
"Amber?" Isaac said softly. She and Derek both turned their heads to look at him. "Can we talk again sometime?"
Amber smiled softly and nodded.
"Sure," she answered before walking into the building. Derek gave Isaac a look before following her in.