Chapter 49 - Chased
Matt's POV
I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been watching her every move since she'd walked out of the hospital doors. Even now, with her no longer in my sight, my ears were peeled, following her progress throughout the house. Listening to her footsteps, her breaths, and her pounding heart. Alert for even the slightest indication that she wasn't ok.
Part of me wondered if I'd ever stop watching her; ever be relaxed enough to leave her without protection again. But as I heard her breath hitch, and heart begin to race, I drifted to the stairs, knowing the answer.
No. I would never stop watching her, not after what had happened.
I was silent as I went upstairs, ghostlike as I stopped to watch her. She was frozen in place, staring at her bedroom door with fear. She was quivering, and I stifled a growl as I began to wonder why the bedroom scared her so badly. She didn't notice me, and I didn't move, instinct telling me that she didn't need help; yet.
For fifteen minutes she stood there, me watching silently, until she moved forward. I watched as she entered, sinking onto the bed as she calmed herself. I headed back downstairs, satisfied that she was ok; or rather, her new equivalent of ok.
This time I couldn't stop the growl that escaped me; I wanted to kill that leech for what he'd done to her.
Chloe's POV
I snuck out the back door after just five minutes in the house. And by snuck out, I mean the werewolf with super advanced hearing that tracked my every move didn't protest when I headed out the door.
I plopped myself down on the grass outside, barely 5 metres from the doorway. I breathed in deep breaths of the outside air, trying to calm myself, trying to dispel the feeling of being trapped my house had given me. My own home felt like a prison.
The thought made me angry, made me frustrated, and I took my emotions out on the lawn. My fingers pulled at the grass with a manic intensity, digging into the dirt and tearing it up as if doing so would solve all my problems. It was a nice thought; a stupid thought, but a nice one.
I couldn't remember the last time my problems had been that easy to solve.
After 10 minutes of attacking the ground, my frustration was going nowhere, and had only increased. It was getting me keyed up, and I desperately needed something to distract me.
'Matt.' I called, knowing he was watching, and listening. 'I need you to distract me. I'm driving myself crazy out here.'
It didn't take long for him to emerge from the house, and when he walked up to my spot on the grass, he didn't comment on the torn up patch of grass in front of me. He just offered me a hand, which I gladly took. He hauled me up easily, and I smiled at him, dusting my hands off on my jeans.
'Come on. Quil's on patrol and Claire could use a play buddy.' He smiled knowingly as I perked up, eager at the thought of company; especially company that had no knowledge of recent events. Plus, Claire was also great at keeping me happy.
The trip to Sam and Emily's was short, mercifully, because I could barely stop myself from bouncing up and down with all my pent up energy. Despite our casual conversation, I could feel Matt watching me carefully, alert for any indication that I wasn't dealing with being released from hospital. I was torn between being annoyed and feeling protected as a result of his scrutiny.
But my mixed feelings disappeared as we emerged from the trees, and I saw Claire playing on the grass outside the house. I smiled, racing forwards to scoop her up into my arms, as she let out a high pitched squeal of laughter.
Her laugh made me laugh, and for a while we were both just laughing, as I spun her around in a circle. As I slowed, and sat myself down on the ground, still holding her to my chest, she happily began chatting.
'Chwoe! Chwoe, you're back! I missed you. Where have you been? I haven't chased Qwil in ages!'
'Aww, Claire, I missed you too. And I'm sorry we haven't had a chance to chase Quil, but I've been sick.' She made a sad face at me, and I poked her nose gently. She scrunched up her face in response, the sight making me smile again; Claire was an expert when it came to cheering me up, and she didn't even do it intentionally.
'Are you better now, Chwoe? Can we chase Qwil?' Apparently, chasing Quil was a favourite activity.
'I'm almost better, Claire. And we can chase Quil when he gets back.' She squealed in excitement, bouncing up and down happily.
'Yay! I wuv chasing Qwil. Emby chases Qwil with me sometimes, but Emby doesn't make funny faces wike you do.'
I grinned, and so began the exchange of silly faces. According to Claire, I had fifty different expressions, but I'd be surprised if I had more than twenty. The funny faces were soon followed by funny sounds, and before I knew it, Claire was pretending to be a duck and I was cat.
Being a cat was much easier than being a duck. I just had to lie on the ground dozing, because that's what cats did. But Claire had spent 10 minutes waddling around, flapping her arms and quacking. I was amazed she hadn't given up yet.
However, it didn't take long for her to flop down next to me, announcing that she wanted to be a cat too. And so Claire the kitten and Chloe the cat found themselves both lying on the ground, relaxing like cats. We were both on our sides, facing each other, and were fiercely debating ice cream flavours.
I felt like a smile had been permanently etched on my face. Playing with Claire was exactly what I needed; I'd be hard pressed to find a better distraction. She brought out my inner child, brought me closer to who I had been before that week; I hadn't seen this side of me for a while. Now that it was back, I realised just how much I liked this happy part of me.
But as I was coming to realise, happiness was all too often interrupted by fear.
'Chwoe! Chwoe, look!' Claire was pointing at my collarbone in horror. I looked downwards, startled, at first unable to figure out what had caught her attention. But as she continued gesturing, I finally discovered the source of her distress. Picking up the wooden head of a wolf that was what remained of my charm, I dangled it from my fingers in a silent question.
'Chwoe, its bwoken! The wolf is bwoken!' I thanked fate that Claire was too young to read facial expressions, because I was pretty mine was one of momentary terror. I shoved my fear downwards, mentally floundering at how to respond as I adopted a neutral face.
'Yeah, it is.' My voice was sad as I said it. Claire frowned, sadly regarding the wolf head.
'Why is it bwoken, Chwoe?'
'It snapped.' I made a sad face, which Claire mirrored. I playfully flicked her on the forehead, and she grinned, and just like that, the conversation was forgotten.
The rest of the morning passed in a whirlwind of smiles, laughter, and Claire. It seemed she was eager to make up for all our lost time, because her requests and ideas were never ending. Despite the fact that she seemed to have boundless energy, I couldn't say I was surprised when she started yawning. My heart melted when she curled herself around me, falling asleep with her arms around my neck and her head on my shoulder.
I couldn't keep the smile off my face as I leant against a tree bordering the house, watching her as she slept. It was incredibly tempting to try and fall asleep myself, but I resisted, content to play with Claire's hair instead. I didn't know why such a mundane activity was so fascinating, but it was. I just loved to watch her curls spring back up after I stretched the ringlets.
I was sure I would have grown bored eventually, but not long after Claire fell asleep, I felt Paul approaching. Just minutes later, he appeared from the trees, and I watched him as he walked towards us. My heart gave an excited squeeze at the sight of him, and already I felt the pang of separation lessening as he approached. I smiled at him as he sat next to me, and couldn't stop the contented sigh that escaped me as our arms touched.
'I can't believe you got her to fall asleep.' He whispered, and I grinned.
'She tired herself out. Apparently, pretending to be a duck is hard work.' He laughed at that, but quietly. 'I wouldn't know. I was a cat.' He laughed again, struggling to stifle his loud chuckles.
'Why is a cat easier than a duck?'
'Cats sleep all the time. So I just laid on the ground and slept.' Paul looked surprised.
'Really? Did you dream?' He asked carefully, looking at me intently. I knew that what he was really asking was whether or not I'd had the nightmares.
'No, I didn't actually fall asleep. Claire's quacking was a bit distracting.' He laughed again, and this time I joined in.
'So if you're cat, and Claire's a duck, what am I?' I couldn't believe he was actually interested in continuing this conversation.
'Claire's not a duck anymore, she changed to a kitten. And I can't believe you have to ask what animal you are.' I said incredulously, making him smile.
'A wolf?' I nodded, and Paul stole the hand that had been playing with Claire's hair, entwining it with his own. As usual, my body tingled at the touch, his warm hand making me smile at the joy snaking through me.
'And does the wolf get along with the cat?' Paul asked. I tilted my head to the side as I thought.
'Well, wolves are similar to dogs, and dogs and cats don't get along.' I mused, giving him a cheeky smile. I wasn't sure how I'd thought Paul would react, but I hadn't expected the smirk that graced his lips.
'Dogs also chase cats.' I was surprised for a moment, before laughing, grinning widely the entire time.
'Ok, you win. But I'm off limits, I've got Claire.' Paul's eyes glinted deviously. Oh no.
'Quil.' He called, not loud enough to wake Claire, but enough to make sure Quil heard. I felt my grin morph into an expression of alarm.
'You wouldn't.' I said warningly. Paul's grin told me that he most certainly would. Quil was already out of the house, striding towards us looking almost as pleased as Paul. Getting to his feet, Paul pulled me up after him, still smirking. All too soon, Quil was in front of me, gesturing for me to hand Claire over.
'Quil,' I whined pleadingly, my eyes begging. 'I need her. She's keeping me safe.' He just shook his head, grinning as he ignored my glare and took Claire from me, somehow managing to keep her asleep even as I tried to slap him in the face.
'Sorry Chloe. But it's my turn.' He said happily, before turning and walking back to the house.
And then it was just me and Paul, him standing just feet away looking annoyingly satisfied. I pouted, but he just smiled, looking even more pleased with himself.
'You have five seconds.' I gave him a quick glare, before sighing.
And then I was running.
In just seconds I crossed the grass that surrounded Sam and Emily's house, and then I was disappearing into the trees, my hair flying behind me as I threw myself forwards. I had no doubt that he was going to catch me. But if I was going to be forced into this, I wasn't going to let him win easily.
Heading away from the house, I tried to pick a clear path through the woods, but wasn't very successful. There seemed to be branches everywhere, and Paul could probably hear me crashing through the bushes as clearly as if I were right next to him. I needed a plan, or else this whole thing was going to over in seconds.
I couldn't hide; the imprint made that impossible. Plus he had supernatural hearing, and speed, and strength, and smell, and sight. Yeah, I was doomed. What did I have? What did I have that could possibly be of any use against Paul?
And then I saw it.
The perfect tree, just screaming at me to climb it. Now it was my turn to smirk.
This whole thing just got a whole lot more fun.
It took Paul less than a minute to find me. I had only been sitting on the branch that was my new perch for a few seconds before Paul appeared 10 metres below me. I tried to remain as quiet as possible, and kept myself small as I watched him. I was stretched out along the branch on my stomach in an effort to hide my pink shirt, which would easily give me away.
I knew my small attempts at concealment were no match for Paul and his supernatural talents. But then again, hiding wasn't really what I was aiming for.
He stood at the base of my tree for a few moments, searching the surroundings, before he finally looked upwards. He easily found me amongst the branches, and I smiled at him as our eyes met. Now the fun could begin.
'Found you!' He called up to me, looking pleased with himself. Poor guy; he had no idea.
'I can see that.' I replied, smiling. I propped my head up with my arms as I stared down at him.
'Are you going to come down now?'
'Nope.' I said happily, and Paul looked confused, a tad wary at my pleased tone.
'Why not?' He rumbled, his suspicion clear.
'You haven't caught me yet.' I replied smugly, smirking down at him. His pleased expression quickly fell away as realisation dawned. After a few seconds, his eyes lit up at the challenge.
He approached the tree trunk purposefully, and I leaned over the branch more to watch. He looked determined and confident, and I felt a bit guilty that I was going to burst his bubble. I had chosen this specific tree for a reason, and Paul was about to find out why.
He easily grabbed one of the lower branches, hauling himself upwards. I watched, eyes wide, as with a satisfying crack, the branch snapped, falling to the ground with Paul along with it. I winced as Paul hit the ground, feeling bad, but I couldn't stop the laughter that escaped me.
His face was hilarious, a mixture of shock and anger. With an angry snarl he got to his feet, and I was still laughing as his second attempt to climb the tree began. This one went only slightly better than the first, but Paul once again found himself on the ground. And I had just managed to stop laughing, too.
This time the cries of mirth that bubbled from my lips caused Paul to look up at me, glaring. I just waved, grinning as the laughter wracked my body. Paul continued trying to climb the tree I had taken up residence in, failing repeatedly, and soon I was crying with laughter, wincing as my stomach began to cramp.
It was just too funny. I knew that none of the branches would be able to hold his weight, and the more he tried to reach me, the more frustrated he got. After about five minutes, Paul paused to stare up at me in annoyance.
'You're killing me here.' He yelled, his frustration clear. I called back to him cheerfully, still reclining on my branch.
'You wanted to chase the cat, Paul. This is all on you.'
