Chapter 45 Hands Up!
Grace stood frozen in the doorway, her mind struggling to process what she was seeing.
Maddox was a werewolf.
The realization came with a flood of memories that suddenly looked completely different in this new context.
All those times Maddox had shown up with injuries that should have taken weeks to heal but were gone in days. The way he'd always been stronger than he should be, faster than made sense. The nights he'd disappeared without explanation, the secrets in his eyes when she'd asked where he'd been. And, even when he always found her.
Grace had attributed it to good genetics or luck or just Maddox being Maddox.
‘I have always suspected it but never wanted to admit it, because I always thought he would let me know himself if he was.’
She had never questioned it too deeply because why would she? Werewolves weren't supposed to be real.
Except they were. And Maddox was one of them.
Which meant he'd been lying to her. For years. Their entire friendship had been built on a foundation of secrets and half-truths, with Maddox knowing exactly what he was while Grace stumbled through life completely oblivious.
And if Maddox was a werewolf, if he'd known about the supernatural world this whole time, then he'd probably known what Grace was too.
Had known she was different, he must have known about the protection spell. Had known she was being hunted.
And he'd never said a word.
The betrayal cut deeper than Grace expected. She'd thought Maddox was the one person she could trust completely. The one person who'd never lied to her, never kept secrets, never pretended to be something he wasn't.
Turned out he was just like everyone else in her life, he was another person who'd kept her in the dark, who'd decided what Grace should and shouldn't know about her own existence.
The wolf that was Maddox seemed to sense the shift in Grace's emotions. His grip on Enzo's throat loosened, his massive jaws releasing their hold. The black wolf beneath him didn't move, didn't try to escape, just lay there watching both Grace and Maddox while struggling to breathe.
Maddox's huge form turned toward Grace, those familiar dark eyes meeting hers. She saw recognition there, understanding. And beneath it all, something that looked like a plea.
‘Please don't look at me like that. Please don't be afraid of me.’
But Grace couldn't help the instinctive response. Her body moved before her mind could catch up, she took one unconscious step backward. Away from him, from the massive predator that’s her best friend.
It wasn't fear exactly. Not fear of what Maddox might do to her. She knew, somewhere deep in her bones, that Maddox would never hurt her.
Or did she…? She wasn’t sure anymore.
But it was fear of what this meant, it was fear of how much she didn't know, of the secrets that had shaped her entire life without her knowledge. Fear of the stranger she'd been sleeping beside, confiding in, trusting with everything she had.
It was betrayal that made her step back. The unconscious recoil of someone who'd just discovered the person they trusted most had been lying to them all along.
But Maddox saw it differently.
Grace watched as something broke in those wolf eyes. Saw the exact moment he interpreted her retreat as fear of him, of the monster he'd become, rather than fear of the lies. Saw pain flash across his animal features, it was so human in its rawness that it made Grace's chest physically ache.
His ears flattened against his skull, a soft whimper that sounded almost pleading, left his lips. His whole body seemed to deflate, the aggressive posture melting into something that looked heartbreakingly like shame.
Beside Maddox, Enzo was shifting back to human form. The transformation was visible now, bones cracking and reforming with wet sounds that made Grace's stomach turn. Fur receding into skin. The wolf's muzzle shortening, reshaping into human features.
Within seconds, Enzo laid there in human form, naked and covered in blood. Wounds that had looked fatal on his wolf were already healing, the flesh knitting back together before Grace's eyes with speed that should have been impossible.
The sound of sirens cut through the tense silence.
Distant at first, but quickly getting closer. There were multiple vehicles from the sound of it, their wailing growing louder with each passing second.
Someone must have called the police, a neighbor who'd heard the fighting, maybe. Or seen the cars parked haphazardly. Or they must have noticed the open door and the violence spilling out into the quiet suburban night.
Grace saw panic flash across both Maddox's and Enzo's faces as they registered the approaching sirens.
Maddox looked from the sound of approaching law enforcement to Uncle Matteo's body on the floor, to the blood covering every surface, to Enzo lying naked and wounded in the middle of it all.
Maddox’s thoughts were visible in the frantic way his ears swiveled and his body tensed.
He was going to run.
Grace could see the decision forming before he made it. Could see him calculating the impossibility of explaining this scene to the police.
A dead body with its chest torn open, two people covered in blood. One of them, naked. No weapon and no rational explanation that wouldn't sound insane.
They'd be arrested immediately, taken back for questioning. And how could they possibly explain what had really happened without revealing the existence of werewolves to a world that didn't believe in them?
Uncle Matteo was dead. Actually dead. The man who'd offered Grace shelter when she had nowhere else to go.
He was dead on his own living room floor with his chest torn open and his blood soaking into the hardwood in a pool that kept spreading.
Grace had so many questions, but she didn’t know if the answer would help or simply make things worse.
And there was nothing Maddox or either of them could do to bring him back.
‘I need to get out of here,’ Maddox thought, he hoped he could figure out what actually happened before the police decided he was the killer.
Maddox's wolf eyes met Grace's one more time. She saw goodbye in them, with apology, she saw pain so deep and raw it made her want to reach out despite everything, to tell him to wait, to stay, to let her help.
But before Grace could move or speak, Maddox turned and ran.
The massive wolf launched himself toward the window at the back of the room. Glass exploded outward as his body crashed through it, the sound impossibly loud. Grace caught one last glimpse of a streak of grey fur disappearing into the night, heard his paws hitting the ground outside, and heard him running away into the darkness.
Then he was gone.
Grace stood there frozen, her mind blank with shock. Part of her wanted to run too and follow Maddox out that broken window then disappear before the police arrived and started asking questions she couldn't answer.
But her feet wouldn't move. And Enzo was still there, his hand pressed against a wound on his side that was healing but not fast enough. Blood still dripped between his fingers, adding to the mess covering the floor.
The sirens were right outside now. It was so close that Grace could hear individual voices shouting commands, hear car doors slamming, and the crackle of police radios.
Grace forced herself into motion. She crossed the room to where Enzo stood, her shoes squelching in the blood that covered the hardwood. The smell was overwhelming this close.
Up close, she could see how much blood Enzo had lost. His skin was pale, almost grey, with a sheen of sweat that suggested his body was struggling to keep up with the damage. His breathing was labored, each inhale seeming to take effort.
His skin was cold and slick under her fingers. Blood, some of it his own and some of it probably Uncle Matteo's, made her grip slip.
Grace tried not to look at Matteo's body as she helped Enzo. Tried not to see the terrible stillness, the unnatural angle of his limbs, the glassy stare of eyes that would never close again.
But it was impossible not to notice, to see those wide open eyes staring at nothing, accusation in their emptiness even though Matteo was beyond accusing anyone of anything.
Uncle Matteo was dead. Kind, gruff Uncle Matteo who'd welcomed Grace into his home without hesitation. Who'd offered her safety when she had nowhere else to go. Who'd made Maddox into the man he was.
Dead on his living room floor, murdered by someone, and Grace had no idea who or why or what any of this meant.
"Police! Open up!"
The command came from right outside, accompanied by heavy fists pounding on the door frame.
The door was already open, hanging slightly crooked from when Maddox had burst through it earlier. Through the opening, Grace could see the flash of red and blue lights painting the walls, the shadows moving on the lawn, and could see the unmistakable silhouettes of officers with weapons drawn.
"We're coming in!" another voice shouted, deeper and more authoritative than the first.
Grace had maybe five seconds before they burst through that door. Five seconds to prepare herself for what came next.
She looked down at herself and felt her stomach drop. She was covered in blood. Not as much as Enzo, but enough. Her clothes were stained with it, her hands were sticky with it, and there were probably spatters on her face from when she'd knelt beside Enzo.
It was enough that the police would see her and immediately assume the worst.
She looked guilty of murder.
The front door was kicked open fully, slammed back against the wall hard enough to crack the plaster. Two officers came through first, weapons raised and ready, eyes scanning the room with the kind of hypervigilant intensity that came from expecting immediate danger.
Their eyes landed on Grace and Enzo, took in the blood covering them both, swept to Uncle Matteo's body on the floor, and Grace saw their expressions harden into cop mode.
"Police!" the first officer shouted, his gun trained directly on Grace's chest. "Show me your hands! Hands where I can see them! Now!"
Grace's arms shot up automatically, her hands rising above her head even as her mind screamed that this was wrong, that she hadn't done anything, that they had to listen to her explanation.
Beside her, Enzo raised his hands too, the movement slow and labored. Blood dripped down his arm from the wound in his side.
"There's a body!" the second officer called out, having spotted Uncle Matteo. His gun swung toward the corpse, then back to Grace and Enzo when he confirmed the body wasn't moving. "We need medical! Get the paramedics in here now!"
More officers poured through the door. Four, five, six of them, all with weapons drawn, all shouting commands that overlapped into incomprehensible noise that made Grace's head spin.
"Get on the ground!"
"Hands behind your head!"
"Don't move!"
"Is anyone else in the house?"
She shook her head in reply as her voice wouldn't work. The words stuck in her throat as she stared down the barrel of multiple guns, all pointed at her, all held by people who looked like they expected her to be dangerous.
Like they'd shoot her if she made one wrong move.
"I said get on the ground!" the first officer shouted again, moving closer with his weapon still raised. "On your knees! Hands behind your head! Do it now!"