Just a warning, this chapter includes some pretty harsh scenes, including a miscarriage and suicide.
"You know, ignoring him is a pretty crappy thing to do."
Skye glared at Judy; the other girl shrugged, flipping a page in her calculus book. They'd been planning the study sleepover all week, but Judy was starting to wish she hadn't come.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Skye shoved the book aside.
"You haven't looked at Nick in a month," she sat on the edge of the bed. "And I want to know why."
Judy sat up and crossed her legs, smoothing out her ruffled fur.
"He's just been a jerk."
Skye gaped at her.
"How can you say that? He practically saved your life!"
Judy fingered her bracelet, a delicate gold chain with a beautifully engraved nameplate, another piece of her mother's jewelry, one of the only things she had now that her jewelry box was gone. She was sure Kara had sold it all to help fund her drinking habit, those bottles of wine hadn't been cheap.
"It's just," she swallowed hard. "When I think about him now, I feel guilty."
Skye laid across the foot of the bed, her purple pajama top riding up slightly.
"Because you made out with Chad?"
Judy blanched.
"How'd you find out about that?" she stammered.
"Please," Skye turned and reached over the footboard, grabbing a plush kit fox from the decorative trunk in front of her bed and holding it on her stomach. "He's liked you since day one, did you really think he'd be able to keep something like that to himself?"
Judy smiled weakly when Skye's new duckling waddled its way up the small ramp hooked to the sideboard, then flopped clumsily into her lap, curling into a little fluffy gray ball.
"I guess you're right," she picked at a loose thread on the pink and white striped comforter. "But I can't stop thinking about what happened to me…"
"That wasn't your fault," Skye said sternly, the toy tumbling to the floor as she sat up. "You didn't ask for any of that to happen to you!"
Judy winced, trying to take comfort in the duckling's soft feathers and quiet peeping; she could feel Skye's stare burning into her, biting her lip when she felt tears sting her own.
"Chad said the same thing," she sighed. "I don't know why I can't get that through my thick head."
"I don't, either,"Skye scooted closer. The duckling squirmed out of Judy's lap and scampered across the bed, settling on one of the pillows. Judy shivered, rubbing her arms.
"I don't know what to do…"
Skye groaned again.
"The first thing is to tell Nick why you've been ignoring him," her face softened. "He cares about you, Judy, just like we do."
Judy bit her lip.
"How could he once he finds out? H-He'll probably—"
"Kick Eric's ass again," she grinned slightly. "And this time, Jack and I will record it for you."
Judy blinked.
"Wait, he did what?"
"Lance told Nick what happened," she clarified. "How he got Stephanie to admit she and Eric were involved in the whole thing."
Judy toyed with her bracelet, tracing the letters of her mother's name with a claw, then barely looked up.
"You really think I should tell him?"
"Yes," Skye nodded firmly. "He'll be in the music room during lunch on Monday; it's always empty, so you can do it then."
"O-Okay," Judy swallowed, still feeling unsure. "Guess I will."
Nick had lost track of how many times he'd checked his phone. Jack had texted him before school that morning, saying to meet him in the music room during lunch. It was almost time for sixth period.
Least this wasn't a complete waste of time, he tightened a string on his guitar, it had sounded off for days. What's going on with this thing?
He was surprised to see Judy when the door finally opened; she ducked back slightly, then came in.
"Hey, Judy," he strummed another chord. "Everything okay?"
"Oh, hey Nick," she stopped a few feet away from him. "H-How's it going?"
"Fine," he looked at her, what was she so nervous about? "What's up with you?"
"Oh, nothing," she brushed a limp ear over her shoulder. She seemed determined to look anywhere but him. "Uh, what are you doing here?"
"Jack wanted me to meet him," he glanced at the phone in his shirt pocket. "But I don't think he's coming."
She kept fidgeting, then her shoulders slumped, her hands falling to her sides. She sighed heavily.
"Jack didn't text you," she admitted. "Skye used his phone because she wanted me to talk to you."
"About what?"
She clinched her eyes shut, her next words coming so fast he could barely understand her.
"Nick, I was pregnant!"
The string he'd been tightening snapped, whipping his hand.
"What the hell are you talking about?" he gaped at her, ignoring the sting. She gulped, shying further away from him.
"I-It was after midnight," she started quietly. "I woke up when Skye texted me, saying she was on the porch and needed my help, but when I opened the door, it wasn't her."
Judy grunted weakly, barely aware of the hard, bulky shoulder digging into her stomach; she felt so heavy, she could barely keep her eyes open.
"We're going to have a lot of fun," the distant vibration of a laugh. "And best part is that we can be as loud as we want."
She bounced against her captor's back, the muffled creak of wood resounding in her ears as she hit something soft, seeing the vague outline of a light flicker before everything went black.
I don't know where we went, but I was drugged on the way there," she shivered. "The next thing I really remember is climbing out of that pit, I don't know how long I'd been wandering around when you found me."
Nick set down his guitar and went to her side, hating how she flinched when he touched her hand.
"It sounds like you still haven't told me everything," he didn't know why he cared about that. "What else happened?"
He froze when she pressed herself to his side, crying into his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Nick," she said brokenly. "I'm so sorry!"
"Hey, hey," he hugged her gently. Trying to keep the fear and anger from his voice. She shouldn't have to deal with this! "You don't have anything to be sorry about—"
"Yes, I do!" her head shot up. "I was going to have that baby, Nick! How can you not be pissed at me?!"
He brushed her forehead.
"It was your choice, Judy," he frowned. "But you said 'was,' what happened?"
Her eyes widened, her words barely audible.
"I…I lost…"
Someone grabbed her from behind, her blood going cold when she recognized the grip. She turned to see Eric Stalker, his pale blue eyes clouded, his jaw tight. Her heart pounded as he bent closer, his lips nearly touching her ear.
"I won't make you go through with it," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I'm so sorry."
He shoved her toward the stairs, and she lost her balance, tumbling and crashing into the wall. Several girls in the hall started laughing, two of them pushing her down the other flight as she struggled to get to her feet. She slammed against the floor, a deep, cramping pain flaring through her as her eyes burned from keeping back tears. Someone gasped, pointing to the blood starting to stain the front of her skirt.
"Oh my God, look!"
Judy stared at the floor, her fingers tightening on his shirt. He ran a hand down her limp ears, then his fingers trailed to her damp cheek, and he tilted her chin back.
"I know it doesn't mean anything now," he said softly. "But I would've done whatever it took to stop all this, if I'd realized what had happened sooner."
He brushed a fresh tear from her eye, that familiar surge of panic rising when she put a trembling hand over his. He forced it down, leaning in to kiss her forehead.
"Don't be afraid to talk to me," he went on. "I promise, from now on, I'll always be here for you."
She sniffled, then managed a faint smile.
"I'm sorry I kept all this from you," she pulled a glossy black watch from her pocket and clasped it around his wrist, holding his hand in both of hers. "Thanks for saving me, and for putting up with me."
He chuckled, draping his arms around her.
"That's what I'm here for."
What the hell's wrong with me?
Nick slowed to a stop when the light changed, the smooth purr of the engine dulled by the thoughts whirling through his head. He'd stayed late after his shift at Uncle Valerio's restaurant, enduring the tod's weekly speech about he worked too hard for a kid, the words laced with the wish his own sons had half their cousin's work ethic. He groaned, remembering Tino and Ricci's last prank, it had taken weeks to get all that dough cleaned up. He'd asked his uncle why he let them get away with so much, knowing he always got the same answer.
"Nothing's more important than family, Nick; in the end, they're all you have."
Pfft, yeah right, Nick sped off when the light turned green. It was almost pitch black tonight, the only real light streaking down the empty street from his headlights. Family, my ass.
Most of them had no idea what he'd been put through, the memories he still fought to bury. But they kept clawing their way back to the surface, turning into twisted nightmares; some nights saw him digging his father's old .32 from his closet, shaking and crying in terror as he pressed that cold muzzle to his skull. But he could never touch the trigger, forced to remember the promise he'd made to his parents two days before their deaths. That no matter how bad things got in the future, he would never give up.
They all broke their promises, he reminded himself. But I'm too scared to break the only one I made.
He shook his head, trying to think about the good stuff in his life, the mammals who'd miss him, but only one face truly helped to lessen the pain. Bright, sparkling violet eyes, a big, sweet smile that took his breath away. It was amazing how quickly he'd fallen for her, that just the sound of her name made his heart start racing. He also knew she could do so much better, that he was one of the last guys who deserved her. Not that he'd ever be brave enough to tell her that.
Nick winced at the light shining in his eyes; he'd come to an hour ago in a hospital bed, his vision hazy, his body nearly unresponsive. His jaw felt like it was made of lead, but at least he could feel the pulse monitor clamped around his finger. Chloe clicked off her penlight and slid it in the pocket of her pink scrubs.
"You were in a car wreck," she answered his unspoken question. "You came in with a moderate concussion and several hairline fractures to your left forearm, but other than that, all you're looking at are some nasty bruises and cuts."
Nick shifted his arm as much as he could, seeing her name scrawled in silver across the knuckles of his dark blue cast; he could feel the row of stitches on his temple.
He gasped, jerking the wheel to the right. The black van surging toward him had broken headlights, the momentum when it hit sending him off the road. Runoff spilled down the steep embankment, the breaks useless as he slammed sidelong into a young tree. The narrow trunk snapped, branches tearing through the black canvas top of the convertible. He could feel the blood starting to trickle down his face, matting his fur, his arm crushed between his side and the dented door. He could still hear the fading echo of the van's engine as it sped away.
"You started puking pretty severely last night," Chloe went on. "So we gave you something for the nausea with your painkillers, they should be wearing off soon."
He looked at the cast again; he'd been eight last time he'd had one, forced to overhear as his father had asked for an amputation, thinking his leg had been too damaged to save. Now he had a calf and thigh full of metal and another scar to hide.
"Nick?"
He blinked, trying to sit up as Chloe turned off the pulse monitor and removed his cuff. He had to look away as she took out his IV.
"Who knows I'm here?"
"Chelsea actually found your car after the crash," she bandaged the spot. "She brought a change of clothes for you."
She nodded to the backpack sitting on the stool by his bed, the largest pocket partially unzipped.
"I have to check on some other patients, then we can get you discharged."
He nodded absently as she left, then grabbed the bag and started to dig through it. Remembering the crash had also dredged up memories of a soaking summer storm, then the Chief of Police himself had knocked on his grandparents' door in the middle of the night. Six years had passed since then, and he'd lost track of the sleep he'd missed thinking about that accident, and the promise he couldn't believe he'd been able to keep.
I can't take much more of this, he tugged on a pair of black sweats, then untied his hospital gown, hoping the wave of dizziness was just from the fading meds. It was awkward trying to pull his shirt on, but he managed it. Wish someone would tell me what this is…
He slung the bag over his shoulder, turning when he heard a small yawn.
"Nick?" a young coyote stood there in an oversized gray T-shirt, sleepily rubbing her mismatched baby blue and honey brown eyes. Chad's half-sister, recovering from her second kidney transplant. "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing, Lilly," he knelt in front of her. "Why aren't you with the other kids?"
She yawned again, her dark green teddy bear slipping from her hand.
"I couldn't sleep."
He chuckled as she reached down to grab it, then picked her up with his good arm.
"You look pretty tired to me," he answered. "Does anyone know you're out here?"
She slumped against his shoulder, clutching her bear as she started losing the fight to keep her eyes open. He couldn't blame her for wanting to wander around, he'd it himself when he'd been stuck there as a kid. What worried him was how weak she still was, even if she didn't seem to notice. She was sound asleep when they reached the children's ward, to the relief of the nurses assigned there for the night. He watched as one of them tucked Lilly into bed, wondering if he'd ever be able to do the same with his kids.
Guess I'll just have to wait and see.
He sighed, then headed for the main lobby, where he found Chelsea chatting up some orderlies. She smiled and waved at him, excusing herself the conversation before hurrying over to him.
"I've been waiting all night," she said. "How are you feeling?"
"Honestly? Like shit," he shrugged. "But I've been through worse."
"Don't I know it," she stood on her toes, gently tracing the cut on his forehead. He still flinched. "Come on, let's get you out of here."
The nights were getting warmer, the last of the snow and slush melting as leaves sprouted on the trees. A quarter moon was high in the sky, an unblinking eye that watched his every move.
What was I thinking?
He shook his head; it had gotten so easy to act like nothing was wrong, and he wondered just how many lies he'd told with a straight face. His mind was always racing under that mask, focused on everything that could go wrong. There was also another concern, a detail he typically wouldn't have thought twice about.
Eight months had passed since he;d gotten the assignment, and he still couldn't neutralize the target. Death had never fazed him before, but the thought of hers made his stomach twist. How could he half let himself get so attached to her? She didn't know anything about him, only the image he projected, but even so, she seemed to truly care for him, a concept he'd long forgotten how to grasp.
I can't tell her the truth, he thought, his heart constricting. She'll kill me!
"You're a bit late."
He stopped short in the doorway of the injection hut. A figure leaned against the back wall, buffed black reptile leather clinging to every inch of a skeletal frame. They stood over a half-covered tray, staring at him with cold, unforgiving green eyes, highlighted by pale brown fur. The rest of the face was obscured by a half-mask, an oversized hood further obscuring their species. They reeked of the chemical stink of scent block.
"Who are you?" he asked flatly. They straightened.
"The name's dusk," they answered simply, voice slightly muffled. His jaw tightened.
"Where's Anya?"
They shrugged, cupping the first syringe in a gloved hand. A strip of fur flashed at their wrist.
"I'm afraid she's been unexpectedly called away," they motioned to the stool beside them. "I'm just filling in for her, so why don't we get started?"
He rolled his eyes, but pulled off his shirt and took a seat. Dusk walked behind him, and he shuddered as they traced one of the old scars on his back. They pushed the needle in just below it, chuckling at the soft groan that slipped from his throat.
"It might not hurt much now," they stepped in front of him, making a show of lifting the the bottom of the mask, licking the needle and pricking their tongue with it. "But trust me, it will."
They walked back around, his eyes starting to water and burn as they administered the second shot; they rubbed his twitching shoulders in a gesture of mock concern. Leaning down, they bit the rim of his ear, their voice a chilling hiss.
"Suffering now?"
He tensed when they gave the next one, acid filling his throat as a searing heat began to pound through his veins. A wet, hacking cough rattled his chest, it was impossible to breathe. The stool toppled, every nerve screaming as he hit the floor, hot bile flooding his mouth. His vision blurred, he was barely aware of his head being forced back, Dusk's eyes glowing with dark pleasure.
"Hurts now, doesn't it, tough guy?" they laughed again. "But don't worry. Soon, you won't feel a thing."
There was a high-pitched echo, another wave of stabbing pain, one last scream before he went limp.
Nick groaned, almost knocking the alarm clock over as he groped blindly for the snooze button. It took a few seconds to kick off the sheets, twisted and sweat-spattered as always; he was amazed he got any sleep at all. His phone chirped on the nightstand, the screen displaying an unknown number; he wasn't sure what made him answer.
"You done good for yourself, small fry."
He went stiff. That name again.
"Who is this?" he demanded. The mammal laughed.
"You know who I am."
Nick's pulse quickened.
"W-What do you want?"
"Just wanted to congratulate you," they mocked. "Also surprised you've managed to live this long, but we both know it won't last forever."
"What the hell are you talking about?" he swallowed his fear. "What do you want?"
"Just felt like warning you, small fry," the joking tone ceased. "Enjoy the calm while you can get it."
The line clicked. The phone slipped from his nerveless hand. That hadn't just happened, it wasn't possible. He shook his head, shoving it to the back of his mind. There was too much happening now to worry about the future, or the past. He repeated that to himself as he got ready, glancing outside whenever he could. He didn't know what he was looking for—a masked killer primed to burst from the shadows? The gleam of a scope as they gunned him down from a distance?
Dumbass, he snapped at himself. Quit being paranoid. That guy was a loon, nothing's coming after you.
The feeling of being watched followed him outside, unease creeping over him like vines as he unlocked his newly repaired car. His heart skipping a beat when he saw the note folded over the steering wheel, his name slapped across in a neat, unfamiliar scrawl.
You have until tonight, then we start taking matters into our own hands.'
A jolt of fear coursed through him. He crushed the page in his fist and threw it on the floor. He keyed the ignition and took off down the street, wondering why they'd chosen now to come back for him.
This can't be happening!
Judy watched Kara's car turn out of the driveway, sighing in relief when it disappeared down the street. The jill had been in a rage since she'd come home yesterday afternoon, which could only mean her latest boy toy had ended things. Judy was amazed she'd managed to sneak to her room without being noticed, at least she'd avoided one pointless beating.
She got off her bed and grabbed the bag she'd left by the door; she'd finally found a dojo in town, and she couldn't wait to start karate again. She grabbed the sticky note she'd scribbled the address on from her mirror, detouring through the kitchen to grab a water bottle and orange before heading outside. She was surprised to see Nick a few houses down, lowering the top of a dark green convertible.
"Hey," he smiled when she jogged up. "Going somewhere?"
"I signed up for a new karate class," she glanced at the sticky note. "You know where the Shima Sports Club is?"
He swept a twig off the hood.
"I take kickboxing there," he said. "Need a lift?"
She blushed, but then her smile faded.
"Wait a second, shouldn't you still have your cast?"
He looked at his arm, then wiggled his fingers.
"Got it taken off yesterday," he was as confused as she was. "Doc said it was already healed."
She blinked, then shook her head.
"It's barely been three weeks!"
"I know, we couldn't believe it, either," he shrugged. "But not like it's the weirdest thing that's ever happened."
He glanced at his watch, the same one she'd given him, then back at her.
"You can finish staring at me later," he laughed, going around to the driver's side. "You know I hate being late."
She giggled, then climbed in and buckled up.
"How long have you had this car?"
"Bought it off a senior last year," he adjusted the rearview mirror. "Took months just to get it running again."
"You did a great job," she ran a hand over the dash, done up in a dark faux-wood finish. He snorted.
"You should've seen it before, I couldn't believe it was still in one piece."
They rode in silence for a while; she could feel his gaze as he stopped at a red light.
"You're not telling me something."
She quit messing with her fingers, tucking her hands beneath her. She swallowed.
"I-I'm still having dreams about what happened."
He stepped on the gas when the light changed.
"You went through a lot," he kept his eyes on the road. "It's going to take more than a few weeks to deal with it."
She didn't answer, watching him through her lashes. His fur rippled and shifted in the wind; that serious gleam was always in his eyes, telling her his mind never stopped working. She wondered what he was thinking about.
"We're here."
She jumped a bit, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she climbed out of the car. The long, low building was brown brick, the full windows along the front tinted too darkly to see inside,
"I was planning on walking, my class doesn't start for an hour," she smiled at him, folding her ears back to hide her blush. "Mind if I just watch you?"
He chuckled.
"Yeah, that's," he trailed off, his expression going cold when he saw the reflection in the door. "Oh, great."
A pale gray lynx strolled up, the lazy smile on the cat's face turning cocky when his dark eyes locked on her.
"Haven't seen you around before," he ran a hand over his spiked white headfur.
"The name's Judy," she reached for Nick's free hand, but he put his arm around her shoulders. "Who're you?"
"Name's Cody," he crossed his arms, his fur cut short to show off his corded muscles. "I'm the champ around here."
She cocked a brow.
"And is that supposed to mean something to me?"
Nick snickered, and Cody glared at him.
"Just wondering what you're doing with a chump like him," he flashed another sharp-toothed smile, Nick tensing beside her. "You know where to find me if you ever want a real male."
He sauntered past them and headed inside. Judy rolled her eyes.
"Is he always that annoying?"
"Trust me, he gets worse," Nick sighed. "Guy's a lazy cheater, he threw chalk in my face at our last competition, then kicked me out of the ring. Ref said he didn't see anything."
"Of course," she glanced at the door, then giggled impishly. "On the bright side, now I can distract him while you whoop his ass."
He laughed again, then kissed the top of her head.
"Just hope I don't end up falling for it, too."
Cody leaned against the wall, picking a stray thread from the waistband of his loose black pants.
"So you're really Nick's girl?"
Judy barely glanced at him, seating on one of the cushions scattered along the front edge of the room.
"Even if I weren't, I think we both know I'm way out of your league," she answered flatly. He chuckled.
"You wouldn't be the first girl to change her mind," he squatted down and took her wrist, dropping a folded piece of paper into her hand.
"You know who to call when you get tired of him, baby," he straightened and walked away, knocking Nick aside as he did so. Nick just rolled his eyes, dropped his bag by Judy's and knelt beside her. He wore a snug white tank top and gray sweat pants, the left hem splashed with a bleach stain.
"He didn't bug you too much, did he?"
She tucked the paper away to throw out later.
"Nothing I'm not used to," she said. "What made you want to take kickboxing?"
"It was my mom's idea," he rubbed a small scar peeking through the fur on his chin. "She signed me up the first chance she got."
He let his hand fall to his side.
"I do think about quitting once in a while," he went on quietly, glancing at a tall black fox she assumed was the teacher. "But then I remember how she looked when she watched me, and I feel like I'd be letting her down if I did."
"Oh," she felt like she should have expected that answer. He tilted her chin back, brushing her cheek.
"She's not the only reason I stick with it," he smirked a bit. "I just haven't found anything else I like."
She giggled, jumping slightly as an impatient, accented shout.
"Nick, let's go!"
He cringed, calling over his shoulder. "Hai, Sensei!"
He kissed her cheek, then jogged to take the last free spot at the back of the group. The sounds of the class blurred and faded into white noise as she bit her lip, wishing she could push away the dread that was now tugging sharply at her stomach.
That won't happen again, she promised herself. I won't let it!
Judy pressed her thumb to the throbbing pain between her eyes. She'd woken up late, forgetting her homework on the kitchen table in her rush to leave. She'd also had three tests she'd been too distracted to study for, one of which had counted for almost a fifth of her grade, she rested her forehead against the inside of her locker door, the cool metal helping to ease the pain. It flared again when the bell rang, the piercing note tearing at her eardrums.
Just one more class, she assured herself. Then you can bum a ride and curl up in bed all weekend.
She straightened, gasping sharply when the door slammed shut. Stephanie was spitting flames, her eyes filled with broiling hatred, her red and white fur bristled in rage. Judy gulped, her head forgotten as she jumped aside.
"What the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be in jail!"
"My dad bailed me out," Stephanie spat, stomping forward. "I've got a record now, thanks to you, bitch!"
Judy took another step back.
"Then you shouldn't have kidnapped me," her voice started shaking. "Or let your little bot toy rape me!"
"You deserved it, you fucking slut," she lashed out, ripping Judy's shirt. "Just like you deserve this!"
Judy screamed, scrambling to cover her thin blue camisole. Why was everyone just standing around watching?
"You crazy bitch! What the hell's wrong with you?!"
"I'm done with you getting between me and Nick," she tore Judy's camisole. "Now the whole school's going to see you pay for it!"
Judy barely saw the streak of steel, throwing up her hands just before the knife would have lodged in her chest, ignoring the burn across her palms as she snatched Stephanie's arm. Stephanie struggled to get her wrist free, the weapon dropping from her grip when Judy jammed the other girl's arm against her knee.
"You're fucking insane," she shoved the red panda away. "Why do you keep doing this to me?!"
She screamed again, covering her eyes against the sudden burst of mace, the sound cutting off when Stephanie jammed a knee into her stomach.
"Everyone's wanted you gone since you got here, cunt," Stephanie grabbed Judy's ears and yanked her forward; Judy whimpered, trying in vain to blink away the searing burn. "And I'm going to make sure you never take Nick from me again!"
Judy cried out, coughing hoarsely, her heart pounding as she waited for whatever torture Stephanie had planned for her, only to feel something warm and heavy drape over her shoulders.
"We got you, Judy," Chad said next to her; she could barely hear him over Stephanie's screeching.
"Let me go, you assholes!"
"Not happening, sweetheart," Jack snapped angrily, then grunted like he'd been elbowed in the gut.
"Dad wasted his time getting you out," Lance growled, more furious than she'd ever heard him. "Now I'm going to make sure you fucking rot in that cell!"
Judy went to rub her eyes, anything to try and ease the burning sting, only for Chad to stop her.
"Trust me, that just makes it worse," there were two loud tears, then the light scratch of rough fabric around her cut palms. He took her shoulders and started leading her. "Come on, we'll flush it out in the chem lab."
She sniffled, trying to see through her tears, breathing through her mouth to try to keep from inhaling pepper spray.
"Where's Nick?" she managed between hacks, her throat already sore.
"One of his off-campus classes at the college," he answered, then swallowed. "He doesn't hit girls, but I think he'll make an exception this time."
She felt him tense at a shout, then she screamed, feeling a new kind of pain across her cheek, nearly paralyzing when the residue on her fur seeped into the gash. She dropped to her knees, openly crying as she pressed her hands to her face, her breathing coming in fast, shallow gasps. The edges of her blurred vision started going black, the world soon drowned out by a high-pitched ringing, the same she'd heard just before her old house had burst into flames.
Judy winced as she tried to move her bandaged hands, fresh tears dripping down her cheeks as she thought over what had just happened. The guys had stayed with her until the rest of the mace had worn off, then she'd all but shoved them out, wanting to be alone to try and process it all. Stephanie had been arrested and hauled back to jail, kicking and screaming while the whole school witnessed her meltdown. The smell of Chad's cheap cologne hung in the air, his old torn flannel shirt swallowing her. She'd been surprised to learn Nick's grandmother, a retired doctor, was the school nurse, and wondered how she'd managed to go so long without seeing the vixen on campus.
"I was wrong about you, Judy," Mrs. Wilde said, coming over with two paper cups of water. She sat down on the chair she'd left there earlier and offered one. "And wrong about Stephanie."
Judy pulled her knees up, crossing her legs.
"It's okay," she answered, having forgiven the old female long ago. She took a sip of lukewarm water. "I don't think anyone believed she could go this far."
Mrs. Wilde sighed.
"I don't see how, this isn't the first time she's hurt somebody like this," she slowly shook her head. "Last time, she claimed to be defending Nick from a bully."
Judy blinked, she couldn't imagine him on the losing end of a fight.
"When was that?"
"Oh, years ago, before the accident," she sighed heavily, twisting her own cup between her dark-furred hands. "His sister told him he'd be 'thrown away' if their parents found out he'd been fighting, and this was after Ario and I gained custody of him."
Judy shivered; when had it gotten so cold?
"When was that, exactly? I mean, he told me it happened, sort of, but…"
"He was hardly six," his grandmother supplied. "By then, we'd figured out his brother and sister were responsible for abusing him, but even taking him away didn't stop them."
Judy knocked back the rest of her water, then set the cup next to her. Mrs. Wilde leaned forward, gripping her hand tightly.
"I should not have treated you the way I did," she went on. "I never saw Nick so happy until he met you, I'm so sorry."
Judy smiled.
"Its fine, really, I'm just glad I can help him."
Mrs. Wilde looked relieved, about to say something when the door opened, two cheerleaders Judy didn't recognize hobbling in. She collected the cups, offering one last smile before getting up, pulling out the curtain hanging between the cots. Judy was thankful for the privacy, as she reached in her pocket for the folded note she'd found in her locker that morning, her name scrawled in handwriting she didn't recognize.
'Judy, I know I'm the last mammal you'd ever want to hear from, but there's something you really, really need to know. I'm the one who—' she stumbled over the word, '—raped you, who threw you in that hole and left you for dead. You didn't deserve any of it, and I know I can't say I'm sorry enough. Forgiveness is the LAST thing I deserve, anyway.'
She stopped reading, wiping her damp eyes with her sleeve. This was the last thing she had expected.
'There's no excuse for what I did. I let Stephanie manipulate me into helping her, and you're not even the first girl I've ended up hurting. I never did a damn thing to try and stop her, I let myself believe a fake was more important than other mammals' lives, and I'm so, so sorry.'
Hr eyes widened when she got to the end, it couldn't mean what she thought it did!
'I'm just stupid, selfish asshole, and I know there's only one way to even try and make it up to you. Don't worry, Judy, because you'll never have to see my face again. I'm finally going to do something right. Take care of yourself, and please, don't let us ruin anything else for you. I'm sorry, Eric.'
The small, neat cursive was a smeared, blotted mess when she finished. The note slipped from her trembling fingers, fluttering gracelessly to the cold tile floor. She brought her knees to her chest, grabbed the thin pillow behind her and buried her face in it.
It wasn't your fault, Eric, she shouted silently, knowing it was already too late. You didn't have to do that!
She kept crying, not caring if anyone heard. She'd barely glanced at the newspaper on the front porch that morning, more concerned with getting to class on time. She'd been too out of it to hear everyone talking, how Eric's parents had found him when they'd gotten home yesterday evening, a makeshift sheet rope tied to the bannister, his neck mercilessly snapped by the tight noose around it.
"Shima" is Japanese for "island", and "Isola" is Italian for it. Yeah, I wasn't exactly too creative with some of these names...