AN: My sincerest apologies for abandoning my Teen Wolf fics for so long. I feel like a neglectful mother feeding and favoring only one of her children. In spirit of the premiere of Season 3 tonight, I give you an update on TL. Hopefully somewhere in the week, I get caught up on Invincible as well. Thank you in advance for reading, and I hope you enjoy.

Hayley

I don't know what emotion Isaac sees reflected in my eyes. By the way his face twists in pain, I almost believe he sees the guilt. He can see I just had sex with Derek. But Isaac only stares with a pained expression stitched to his handsome face. God, I had forgotten how beautiful he is with his eyes the color of the sky, his soft lips turned sadly downwards, and his unruly curly hair sticking to his forehead after the drizzle of the night. After staring at him for several long seconds, I look away as I feel Derek's eyes boring holes in the back of my head.

Three pairs of eyes settle on me, and I hug myself trying to make myself smaller and waiting for the moment Isaac catches on. He doesn't. No lashing out, no harsh words come from him. He simply stares at me his mouth opening several times attempting to say something, but the words simply won't come out. The stifling awkwardness in the air becomes too much for Stiles, and for once I am thankful for his lack of delicacy.

"Ley? Are you okay? What are you even doing here with him? Did he take advantage of you? I swear…"

"Stiles," I massage my temples as the pounding in my head returns with a vengeance at the mention of Derek taking advantage of me. No, dear Stiles, it was all very consensual. "I'm fine. Derek… He's been really helpful." I clear my throat and avoid meeting anyone's eyes as I feel a deep blush creep into my cheeks. Okay, Hayley, you are in a room with two werewolves. From everything Stiles has ever said about them, they can smell and hear anything and everything a mile away. Calm the fuck down. Another throat clearing. "He found me on the sidewalk where any other creep could have taken advantage of me in my drunken state." Unconsciously, I make eye contact with Isaac.

Unfortunately, he gets the feeling I am blaming him, and I know so because he closes his eyes and the grief deepens. But perhaps this is the only way to end this as fast as possible. By all the things Derek has told me tonight, Isaac loves me deeply, and I am quite certain he is close to breaking down and asking me to take him back. And I might just do it. But what happens to Derek then? He loves me too. Hell, I even said I would try to love him too. Seeing Isaac again though has made everything blend into a single blurry line, and I no longer know what I feel. I no longer know what I want. Well, I do: I want to get out of here, now.

"Take me home, Stiles?" I ask as pathetically as possible which is not hard at all. I feel like a dirty whore, and I just need to take a shower then drown myself in the tub.

Stiles, though, is not satisfied with my previous answer. He frowns, his eyes shifting between Derek and me. "You hate him. You wouldn't go anywhere with him."

I cross my arms and glare at Stiles for delaying my escapade before Isaac realizes what a whore I am. "I was drunk. I probably still am. Just get me the hell out of here." I hadn't intended my words to sound so harsh, but I am desperate to get out and breathe clean air. I feel smothered between Isaac and Derek as if both are expecting me to choose, but I don't know if I can.

Stiles doesn't pressure me for more, but I can tell he has chosen today of all days to be observant. He will drill me later on what possessed me to follow Derek. I glance at Derek, who has been as quiet as Isaac simply watching, and nod murmuring a brief thanks. I'm not sure what I'm thanking him for; the sex, the company, or the talk.

"Take care, Hayley," for some odd reason, I hear defeat in his voice. I don't turn to look at him though; I just walk hastily past Isaac and Stiles with my destination being the beat up Jeep.

Pushing my long legs to practically run out the burned Hale house, I almost make it to the Jeep when Isaac grips my arm. I wince and stiffen suddenly remembering his ability to move faster than ever. Isaac quickly lets go inhaling sharply and cursing under his breath.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." The pain in his voice makes my heart ache, and the side of me that always wants to help those in pain begs to come out. This is not the time to be a good Samaritan. I need to get away from him, from them.

"You didn't." I snap sharply without turning to look at him. "What do you want, Isaac."

He doesn't say anything for a while his hands reaching out for me only to be lowered at the last minute as if he is afraid he will hurt me. And he could. That's the whole reason we are in this mess. Isaac is a newly bitten werewolf with no self-control, and I am a mere human with tearable flesh. "I just want to talk, Hayls."

I can't bear to hear the nickname he has for me laced with love and longing. I briefly close my eyes and bring out my inner bitch. Turning sharply around, I narrow my eyes on him and cross my arms over my chest. "You and I have nothing to talk about, Isaac. We are over; you made that very clear. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to nurse a broken heart and a hangover." I turn my gaze on Stiles waiting awkwardly by the driver's door. "Get in, loser."

Without another word or glance in Isaac's, or Derek's as he stands by the porch watching my every move, direction I climb on the Jeep and slam the door. I avert my eyes from either of them as the shame and heartache eats me alive. Leaning my head back on the seat and closing my eyes to avoid the coming light of a Sunday morning, I wait for Stiles to pull out of the driveway. My brother hesitates with the keys in the ignition but the engine off. He stares at me with a frown on his face and repeatedly licking his lips.

"Stiley," I groan pathetically pouting my lips and slipping on my suffering face. "Please. Take me home."

Finally, my big bro takes pity on me and my broken heart for the engine roars to life, and he tears out of the driveway. We ride in silence for a long time; the tree line flying past us in a blurry blob of green and some orange with the coming autumn. Resting my head against the cool glass, I ponder the events of the night. I got dumped, drunk, discovered the werewolf myth is real (my friends and ex being part of that myth), there's a monster lurking in the shadows, and screwed the man I supposedly hated and happens to be my ex's Alpha. Most importantly, I am a confused whore.

What are my feelings? What possessed me to sleep with Derek? Besides the fact that I was drunk and really, really attracted to him. What will happen when Isaac finds out? Both, Derek and Isaac, have the abilities to tear each other apart in a gruesome manner with the motive being me and my whorish ways. Why exactly am I worrying? Isaac and I can't be together even if we wanted because apparently he's only my trophy, and he could kill me at any moment. While with Derek, I sort of promised I would try to feel something for him. Maybe I'm complicating things. Maybe I need to be straightforward with Isaac and… Who am I kidding? This won't be easy. This situation is going to leave our hearts a mess. If they aren't already a mess with conflicting morals and feelings.

"You're awfully quiet," Stiles says glancing briefly at me and pulling me out of my thoughts. "You okay, Hale?"

I shrug keeping my head against the glass. "My head hurts a lot."

Abruptly, Stiles pulls over to the side of the road and turns the Jeep off. He twists his body over to look at me; he licks his lips several times before speaking.

"Ok, what happened? You do realize I called you Hale, and you didn't even threaten to rip my head off." He looks away and again licks his lips. I remain silent unable to tell Stiles what I've done. "Remember that time you decided you would learn to ride your bike on your own? You came back acting all weird, and you wouldn't tell Dad what was wrong. I found you crying in the bathroom trying to bandage your knee. I was there for you, Hal, and I will always be. No matter what, I love you. I know you are hurting again, so let me in. Let me bandage you again." His voice breaks a little at the end.

His words form a knot in my throat and cause my eyes to sting. Out of all the people in the world, the one I trust blindly and without a doubt would by my brother, my other half. Despite all our bickering and our differences, Stiles is my companion and has been there for me through thick and thin. However, when I look into his eyes, mirrors of my own, I can't bring myself to tell him I just slept with Derek Hale, and I don't have the heart to tell him that not even bandages can mend this monumental gash. But knowing my dear big bro, he won't drop the conversation until he gets something out of me. Instead of telling him about my slutty ways, I decide to tell him about the other thing that is nagging me to no end.

"Isaac is a werewolf," I look him dead in the eye and wait for him to make a joke that will question my sanity, but he doesn't. He licks his lips again and his face pales more than usual. When he remains silent, I continue. "As are Scott, Lydia, Erica and Boyd, Derek is alpha, and there's this thing called a kanama responsible for the recent murders. Oh and there's the fact that you knew all about it and didn't bother to tell me."

"It's kanima not kanama." He laughs nervously and waits for me to join him, I guess. He throws his hands up and speaks in a hurry. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Ley-ley. I just thought it would be safer to keep you in the dark."

"Safer? Don't talk to me about safety, Stiles. What the hell are you thinking going around hanging out with dangerous creatures?! This isn't one of your video games, Stiles. This is real life, and you're going to get yourself killed!"

Acting high and moral does not fit me at the moment, but the thought of something happening to Stiles sends my self-loathing to the back of my mind. All I can think of is making sure Stiles gets through his thick skull that it's dangerous to have werewolves as best friends. What will I do if Stiles gets ripped to shreds? I won't be able to live knowing my other half, the better part of me, is gone. As much as I hate to admit it, Stiles is the glue that keeps my family together. He worries constantly about Dad and his job while at the same time babysitting me. Life without his stupid jokes, obnoxious personality, and loving nature will be absolutely worthless.

"I wouldn't," Stiles shrugs it off and starts the engine. "Scott has my back. Don't you worry about me. Just worry about yourself. Hayley, promise you won't go out at night without telling me first." He glances intensely at me as he begins to drive. "Promise."

"Why?" I ask puzzled. Stiles knows I'm not an angel and sometimes I would sneak out in the middle of the night with Isaac. Stiles never asks where I go though as long as I return home safe and sound. Sure he annoys me to no end about using condoms and whatnot but this is crazy. He has never asked me to report myself, not that I would anyway.

"Just please," he meets my eyes briefly then glances away and shifts a little in his seat. "For the peace of my mind. With the kanima out there, no one is safe."

I sigh and lay my head against the window again. "Fine. But you promise me you'll stop hanging out with the werewolves. Okay?"

"Okay. I will do that when there isn't an evil creature hell bent on killing people. How did you even find out?" He asks frowning at the road. "Oh don't tell me Derek let the wolf out of the bag. Damn it." He hits the steering wheel with the palm of his left hand. "He's the first to set rules, and then he goes and breaks them! What an ass."

I shrug. At the mention of Derek, images of us together flood my mind. I take deep breaths through my nose to keep myself from getting all excited just thinking of his hands all over me or when he made me touch the stars with mind blowing orgasms. But then I see Isaac's blue eyes filled with pain, and I start to feel sick to my stomach. I'm a terrible person. Please God, kill me and send me to hell right now. That has to be better than this.

"Hayley?! Are you okay?" Stiles glances nervously at me and then back at the road. "Jesus, you look pale. You're not about to vomit are you?"

I nod my head, and the car comes to another sudden stop. I barely jump out of the car when I'm vomiting all over the bushes. My stomach heaves painfully as I have nothing in my stomach to throw up. Suddenly, I feel Stiles' hands on my back rubbing it gently. He gathers my hair on his right hand and stays there as my stomach lurches and my head throbs like a bunch of needles are stabbing me. Nope, no more drinking for me. If alcohol leads to this pain, and of course slutty decisions, then I will most definitely stay away from it. Sorry tequila, our friendship is over.

"Ready?" Stiles asks before starting the car once more. I can only moan as I keep my head on my knees.

Neither of us says anything else as we finally arrive home. I haven't lifted my head up, so I have no idea if Dad is home. I pray to God to give me a break just this once and keep Dad at work at least until I crawl into bed with my pjs on. Since Stiles is not freaking out, I assume Dad is still out. I practically crawl out of the jeep and mumble thanks to Stiles as he helps me up the steps to my room. He drops me on the bed and breathes heavily as if he just ran a marathon.

"You need to stop eating so much junk food, Hal."

"Shut up," I grunt and sit up on the bed and look around my room. "Where's my purse?"

"Oh, I got all your crap in the backseat of the jeep. I'll go get it. You, um, clean up before Dad gets here. I'll do the same. I feel like shit too but unlike you, I'm holding it together." He grins and begins to leave.

"Hey Stiley," I call out as he reaches the door. When he turns, I throw a pillow at his face. "Screw you."

Before he can retaliate, I jump out of the bed and race to the bathroom and slam the door. However the movement caused me to feel nauseous again. Kneeling by the toilet, I give it a bear hug as I get the feeling that I'll vomit. Thankfully, it soon passes, and I rise to my feet. I inspect myself in the mirror for any tale-tell signs that I got drunk out of my ass or that I screwed a very sexy, very skilled werewolf lover. The signs of having partied too hard are there. My usually gorgeous dark brown hair is frizzy, sticking in every direction, and very dry. The mascara and eyeliner are smudged all over my eyes making it look like I am a ghost with my extremely pale skin. My lips are dry and my tongue tastes vile and sour. I can't taste Derek anymore, and I'm not sure that's good or bad.

I twirl around and look all over trying to figure out if anyone would be able to tell I just had sex. I can't see anything but for some reason, I feel exposed. Removing my dress, I step into the shower and turn on the hot water. At first it burns so much I cringe, but as I get used to the temperature, it feels heavenly, and it seems to remove the lingering feeling of being cold and empty. I make sure to wash my hair twice, scrub my feet, for they are dirty from walking on the mud, and my private areas making sure not to linger on the bruises left on my breasts.

I try not to dwell too much on Derek, or the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of me. Or when he ate me out for the first time in my life. I gasp as I pass the towel between my legs gently caressing my nub. And for a second, I can feel Derek's hands on me again.

"Hayley!" Stiles bangs on the bathroom door making me jump out of my freaking skin. I feel a blush creep into my skin that has nothing to do with the water or the arousal. I am embarrassed to have been fantasizing about Derek.

"What?" I call out nervously.

"I left your crap on the desk." He pauses. "Are you okay in there?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks bro! Go to sleep." I reply trying to sound more normal.

"All right. Um, night Hal."

"Night Stiley."

I hear his footsteps, and then the door to my room shutting. I shut off the water knowing I'll just risk fantasizing about Derek again. Besides, if Stiles is about to shower too, he'll just steal the hot water. Our house is not too fancy or big. It consists of three bedrooms and two and a half bathrooms. When I hit puberty, Dad finally caught on that sharing a bathroom with Stiles was pure torture for both of us, not to mention a little awkward. So I got the master bedroom with bathroom included that once belonged to Mom and Dad. It was a bit strange and even depressing to be in the room Mom and Dad slept in, but after a while, I knew I wouldn't be comfortable anywhere else.

Wrapping a towel around my hair and pulling on my robe, I make my way to the closet to find clothing. The shower did wonders to making me feel better, but I still have that throbbing pain in my head. After clothing myself in my old pink and white pjs, I brush my hair and teeth. Then I inspect my belongings. They are all there. I pull out my dead cellphone and plug it into the charger. Once it's turned on, I realize I have several voicemails from Stiles, Allison, and Scott. I simply delete them knowing they are from when they were looking for me. I do send a quick text to Allison.

'We need to talk. C u the diner? 5pm.'

She quickly texts back. 'K. Are u all right though?'

'We'll talk later. Xoxo.'

She doesn't text back, and I assume that's her complying with saving her questions till later. My stomach grumbles just then, but the thought of food makes me sick again. Still, I head down to the kitchen for a glass of water. When my thirst is satiated, I head back to my room and crawl under the covers. Just as my head hits the pillow, I drift off. Hours later, I sit up startled and soaked in sweat. My phone is vibrating and ringing nonstop, but that's not what woke me up. First, it's the breeze blowing in through the open window, which was closed when I got home. Second, I was having a nightmare about a creature with yellow eyes chasing me through the dark woods.

Taking a deep breath, I kick off the sticky bed sheets and check my phone. It's just my alarm telling me I have thirty minutes to get to work. With a groan, as I still feel the hangover, I roll out of bed and head straight for the window with a deep frown on my face. I lean forward and look up and down the street. The window was closed when I arrived. The only person that knows I don't lock my window is Stiles and Isaac. Did Isaac… I slam the window shut and lock it. I hope he didn't come over. I feel like he can see what a dirty whore I am if he stares long enough.

Pushing him out of my mind, at least until I talk to Allison, I head to the bathroom and take a very quick shower to remove the sweat from the nightmare. Dressed in my maroon waitress outfit, I head out of my room with cellphone and purse in hand. Scrolling through my Facebook wall, I grimace at the embarrassing photos of me dancing on top of the table awkwardly hugging Lydia. A picture snapped as Isaac and I entered the party draws my attention completely. I am clinging to his arm, my head resting on his shoulder, and a wide smile on my lips. His head is lowered looking down at me, so I can't tell what expression he had when this picture was taken. Too absorbed trying to decipher if he looked at me with adoration or pity, I don't pay attention to my surroundings and collide against something. After all I have been told and recent nightmare, I can only picture a big, ugly monster with scary claws standing in front of me, so I start flailing my arms and screaming bloody murder.

"Hayley! Baby! Stop!" Dad shouts trying to grab my arms. "It's me. Dad."

"Fuck!" Both Stiles and I scream at the same time. I turn around and find my brother at the top of the stairs. He is only in his boxers with a pencil on his hand.

"Language!" Dad wiggles his finger at both of us.

"A pencil?" I shriek at Stiles still a bit paranoid. "You planned to defend me with a fucking pencil?"

"I didn't have anything else! Be thankful I would even race to your rescue!" He retorts putting the pencil behind his ear.

"Language!" Dad snaps again this time only glaring at me. "What has gotten you so nervous? Is anyone threatening you?" His hand twitches towards his belt where his gun should be, but he removes it and the bullets upon entering the house. God forbid Stiles and Scott being stupid shoot themselves.

"No," I shake my head and breathe deeply. "Calm down, Sheriff. I just had a nightmare and… yeah. Edgy. Sorry."

"I was dreaming of Angelina Jolie," Stiles mumbles dragging his feet down the stairs and yawning. "Angelina Jolie and Lydia Martin doing… The dishes." Stiles finishes rapidly when Dad shots him a glare.

"You're just getting up?" Dad raises his eyebrows at us. "How late did you stay out?" And then he begins to sniff us out as if searching for the smell of marijuana on us. Nope, just tequila, Bacardi and some cheap beer. Thankfully, Stiles and I have perfected the art of hiding all evidence. Clothes go in a dark trash bag. I hide said bag under the sink of my bathroom behind the pads where I know Dad will never venture. Stiles hides his under the pile of his dirty underwear because no one will survive the smell of that.

"Dad," I roll my eyes and step towards the kitchen for some juice. "Please we are almost eighteen."

"I turn eighteen five minutes before her!" Stiles shouts excitedly as if that makes any difference which it will but on our twenty-first birthday.

"I don't care how old you are; you two will always be my kids. What time did you come in?" Dad repeats. Nothing escapes that man. "Both of you tell me at the same time."

That little detail escaped us. We always rehearse our stories making sure they match without saying exactly the same thing because there's nothing more suspicious than two stories that are alike almost word by word. Stiles and I share a panicked look before opening our mouths and praying we have that twin connection thingy people talk about.

"Two,"

"Three…" Stiles says and closes his eyes briefly in a grimace that thankfully Dad does not see.

"Close to three. My phone died and Stiles dashboard clock is off by a couple of minutes." I lie smoothly pouring juice into a glass and nonchalantly checking my phone. "Woops, gotta run. I'm late for work. I'm taking the jeep. Bye, Daddy. Later, loser."

"Drive carefully! No speeding. Check your rearview mirrors, seatbelt…"

"Dad, I got it. I'm not four." I roll my eyes and run out the door.

"Would you like more water?" I ask the elderly couple on table six. They nod smiling politely with fake dentures. I can't help envy them. They came in as I started my shift. The elder gentleman held the door open for his lady and even pushed the chair in for her. Now, they hold hands and return to their conversation with eyes glazed over with so much adoration.

"I hate happy couples," I mumble to Allison, who is sitting at the bar.

"You used to love them," she chuckles nibbling on a fry.

"Back when I was one of them," I reply miserably plopping down next to her and dunking a fry on ketchup. "Now I am a miserable single woman. I'm gonna die alone with no fucking cats because they won't want to be around me either." I bite angrily on the fry and chew forcefully already drowning in my forever aloneness.

"Aw, Hayley," she puts her arm around me and squeezes gently. "Isaac will come back. I'm sure of it." She gives me one of those Allison-confident smiles that usually reassure the world will be right once more. This time, it doesn't have that effect.

I look around the dinner. When Allison came in punctually at five, the place was entirely too busy, and I didn't have time to dish. Now, the diner has gone dead with only the elderly couple as our customers. Outside, it has started pouring down again. Worst thing about Beacon Hills is the weather and the fact that werewolves have made their home here. Blowing air noisily out of my cheeks, I spill the beans. I start from the beginning with overhearing her conversation with Scott all the way to when Stiles came to pick up. I don't omit anything at all because Allison is the sister Stiles failed to be. Not that I don't love the dork, but sometimes I need a girl to talk to. I send a small thanks to the heavens for Allison.

"You slept with Derek?" Allison practically shrieks causing the elderly people to eye us suspiciously.

"Hush!" I chastise looking around making sure no one else is around. "Yes. God, Allison. I feel so dirty and guilty. Ok, yes, I enjoyed it, and I meant what I said. I wouldn't mind developing feelings for Derek, but jeez, I'm confused. So confused. Because when I look at Isaac, I just… see I don't even know."

"You loved him," she nods and purses her lips as she goes deep in thought. "I don't think you see him as a trophy. Sometimes, we love someone so much it's scary, so we downplay the whole thing."

I mull over her words for a second, dunking fries into ketchup without eating them. Could that be true? Am I downplaying my feelings for Isaac? If so, why now? I always told him he was everything: the sun, the stars, the air, and my life. And could the same go for Derek? Am I hiding what I probably already feel with lust and attraction?

"Can you love two people at the same time?"

"Yes." Allison gives me a small smile, her eyes softening. "Yes, you can. The heart is big enough for two. But no, Hayley, you can't have them both. You'll have to choose." Curse you, Allison, for reading my mind.

"How? I can't. What if I make the wrong choice?" I slam my head against the bar feeling the panic twist my heart in a really weird way. "Why is this so complicated?!" I groan.

"Who said love was easy?" She chuckles gently then pats my head. "Don't worry, honey. I will always be here for you."

"Thank you," I turn to grant her a wide and thankful smile. Then groan again thinking of the supernatural stuff I also have to deal with now. "Ugh. And don't even get me started on this werewolf shit."

"Werewolf?" A voice behind me makes me jump fifty feet in the air. "What are you girls talking about?"

I glance aggravated at Allison as the true bane of my existence makes a grand appearance. "Nothing, Matt. Just some stupid videogame Stiles is hooked on." I smooth my skirt down and try to get up, but Matt steps into my personal space. "Excuse me."

"I'm sorry about Isaac, Hayley." He says not moving away from me in fact he leans down as if to kiss me. I turn my head away to look at Allison not only to look at her with a "WTF" expression but also to avoid his lips. Clearly rejected and shot down, Matt hides his clumsy move on me by lowering himself onto the stool next to mine.

"Um, thanks, Matt." I reply and bolt out of my seat. Allison practically pleads me not to leave with her eyes, but I can't handle Matt's creepiness and disgusting attempts at hitting on me.

Once upon a time, Matt and I dated. Well, not so much as dated, but it was during my first high school party that he developed a stalker tendency towards me. To make a long story short, girl and boy get drunk, girl and boy kiss, things get heated, girl and boy hook up. But that was it. An awkward, drunken moment that I have tried my hardest to forget. Matt hasn't forgotten obviously. For a while, I thought he did as he started trying to woo Allison, but she has eyes solely for Scott since her family moved here during our sophomore year. When Allison shot him down, Matt returned to stalking me. Of course, when I was dating Isaac, Matt sort of stayed away. I'm not single for twenty four hours and the wolves descend. Derek. Quite literally the wolves descend. What a horrible thought.

I smile apologetically at Allison and head towards the elderly couple to hand them the check. "Thank you. Come again!" I smile chirpily at the couple and head back behind the bar to pretend to be busy, so I don't have to talk to Matt.

"Hayley," Mrs. Stevens, the owner of the diner, jerks her chin in the direction of Matt sitting alone as Allison texts, or probably pretends to text. "Customer."

"Um, can Leila get that? I'm going to do inventory." I whisper towards Mrs. Stevens hoping my puppy eyes don't just work on my immediate family and close circle of friends.

"Leila is doing inventory." She returns to her novella and ignores my pleading eyes.

With a sigh, I grab my notepad and head towards Matt. "May I take your order?" I tell him without looking up from my pad.

"I'm really sorry about Isaac," he repeats this time reaching out to hold my hands, but I casually put them in my apron as I shrug. "He clearly doesn't deserve you."

"Thanks, Matt. May I take your order?" I repeat pulling patience from deep within me. I have lived with Stiles all my life surely I have enough patience to deal with Matt for five minutes.

"If you want, we can go out. There is going to be a rave…"

"Matt, I'm not dating right now. May I take your order?" I cut off him as politely as I can.

"I understand but whenever you are ready, all you have to do is…"

"No, thank you. May I take your order?" My patience is growing thin, and I'm basically spitting the words out through my teeth. Allison darts her eyes nervously between me and Matt as if waiting for the moment I'll rip his head off.

"Hayley," two voices call out my name. Matt and him. His voice stands out above all others, and I know I could hear him miles away. No need for werewolf super hearing. I look up and find Isaac standing by the door completely drenched and a broken expression on his face. For a second, I think he has found out. He's here to call me a whore, which I am. He is going to hate me, and I deserve to be hated by him. "Can I talk to you? Privately? Please?" His voice cracks a little at the end, and I can't deny him anything.

"Excuse me," I mutter to Matt as I begin to round the bar.

"I haven't ordered," Matt says loud enough to catch Mrs. Stevens' attention. She looks up from her novella and glares briefly at me. I hold my finger up to Isaac to signal I'll only take a minute. He nods, hanging his head moving towards the nearest booth his shoes squeaking against the tile floor. Allison looks over at him with his head between his hands then shifts her gaze to me.

"He knows?" She mouths to me her eyebrows shooting upwards in surprise and worry. I shrug and mouth to her to go talk to him while I deal with my pain in the ass. Matt can't seem to make up his mind on what crappy food he wants. He keeps me there for good five minutes then I have to head to the kitchen and prepare his freaking scrambled eggs and bacon. I hate it when Mrs. Stevens sends almost everyone home after the five pm rush leaving just Leila, her and myself.

"Enjoy," I mumble to Matt then head towards Isaac. Allison sits in front of him looking pretty broken herself.

"I will leave you two alone." She stands, and I take her seat across Isaac. "Um, text me Hayl?"

I nod without taking my eyes off of Isaac still with his head resting on his hands. The bell dings letting me know Allison has exited as I reach out tentatively towards Isaac. At the last minute, I decide against it and pull back. I shouldn't touch him. Things will get more complicated if I do. "What is it, Isaac?" I whisper leaning unconsciously forward.

He says nothing for a while then his body begins to shake with his silent sobs. I bite my lower lip before deciding that fuck it, as much as it hurts to touch him, he needs me. Sitting down next to him, I wrap my arms around him. He doesn't hesitate to turn and bury his face on my shoulder.

"Why?" He whispers, and my heart stops. Shit, he found out. He is asking me why I did it. Oh God. What am I gonna say? Sorry, I just felt like fucking Derek. He looked really sexy, and I was drunk. And I don't love you anymore. At least I don't think I do… "My father is dead."

"What?" I stutter letting out a breath I didn't know I had been holding. This might make me look like a bitch, but I am really glad Isaac is not here to call me out on my whorish ways. Also, if there's anyone that deserves jail time or death penalty is Isaac's father. However, seeing Isaac so broken over his death, I wish Coach Lahey was alive. Wait. "How did that happen? What happened?"

He raises his head to look at me with red trimming his beautiful eyes. "I…" is all he gets to say before the door to the diner opens abruptly.

"Dad?" I frown up at him flanked by two other officers; all three of them looking very business-like. "What are you doing here?"

"Hayl," Dad says in that calming voice he uses when talking to criminals. I frown at that then my eyes widen when I see his hand move slowly towards his gun. "Stand up really slow and come over here, baby."

"What are you…?" I glance over at Isaac with his head lowered in what can only be shame while his arms are still wrapped around my waist. "What are you doing, Dad?"

"Hayl, just come here…"

"No, what the fuck…"

"Hayley Joy!"

"Sheriff!" I snap getting to my feet. "What the fuck is going on?"

Silence settles in the diner. Mrs. Stevens has finally put her novella down, whatever is happening now is far more interesting, and Matt glances at us with wide eyes the fork halfway to his mouth. Then ever so gently, my dad breaks the silence and my heart.

"Isaac's father is dead. I'm sorry, Hayl. He's our only suspect."

I feel the air leaving my lungs; depriving me of life. All I can do is turn to look down at Isaac in disbelief; he shakes his head while his eyes plead me not to believe in my father's words. But why would my father lie? Isaac could certainly kill his father. He had the motivation and now the means. I slowly step away and see the hurt and betrayal reflected in his eyes as the other officers step up to handcuff him. My dad says something to me which I do not hear, and I am unable to tear my eyes away from Isaac being thrown into the back of the police car. My father kisses my head then heads out.

"A heartbreaker and a criminal." Matt murmurs next to me shaking his head. "You dodged a bullet with him, Hayley."

"He didn't do it," I say absentmindedly my feet already moving out of the diner even though my shift is not over. "He didn't do it!" I shout after the police car, but they don't hear me. No one will.

I stand under the pouring rain for several minutes letting the despair and grief wash over. No one will believe Isaac's innocence. Except the Alpha of Beacon Hills.