Chapter 25: Those red eyes (part IV)

**Brooke

There was a long silence during which I refused to think. I didn't want to do that. I had seen enough science fiction films to realize that the situation I was experiencing was close to an obvious B-movie plot. And it was crazy as well as humiliating. Crazy because every word I heard had no logical basis, and humiliating because Farrow thought I would believe some absurd story about wolves.

He may have lived in close contact with those animals, but making me believe that I had become like them to the point that I could take on some of their characteristics, like red eyes, completely mocked my intelligence.

“The only thing that makes this absurd situation tolerable is that you invented it because maybe you want me.” I looked at him, trying to calm my tone. “What do you want from me? Because he ran a campaign… God, I don't even know if I believe it's a real promotional campaign anymore.”

“It is not.”

“Excellent.” Tears blurred my vision again, and I blinked a few times to keep them away. “And Malloy? He's a friend of the family, how could he lend himself to something like that?”

“Malloy is also a dear friend of my family. From my father, even before mine. When I told him about you, he decided to help me, that's all.”

“That is all?” I sniffed. “You deceived me, and she says everything here?”

“Yes.” he nodded, putting the car in gear. “That is all.”

The car moved forward, and its headlights cut through the darkness in front of us, pointing toward the bright lights of the city. I took refuge in silence, trying to put my thoughts in order. Above all, the feeling of having been deceived was the most pressing, but the idea that something, in all this chaos, was escaping me was no exception. Reality was entering another dimension, taking away the meaning of everything that had happened. Farrow kept talking about my smell, and it was perhaps the only honest thing he said to me. It wasn't a story he invented on the spot, as it was clear he never pretended the irritation that my perfume was capable of causing in him. Even when we were in the office, he made every effort to stand by an open window when I was around.

“I never lied to you.” I heard him speak softly. Eyes on the road.

“Sure, why not?”

“I'm not telling you some stupid story to get you into bed. Those wolves were interested in you, and I hope you are clear enough to understand how they were.”

I snorted through my nose. “You're talking nonsense, do you realize that?”

He nodded slowly, his head lost in who knows what thoughts. It took what seemed like minutes before he responded, “I'll take you home.” You are going to tell your father that we finished early because you have a fever, and from tomorrow onwards, please, please, please only leave the house if we are with you.

I shook my head. “I won't do anything like that.”

“You are in no position to argue about this.” he roared in frustration. His voice was so loud that it echoed throughout the cabin. “These wolves won't rest until they find you! You are and will be their obsession until you carry my scent around you. You are free to believe me or not, but I will not put your life and that of your family at risk because you don't trust them or me!”

I squirmed in my seat. “What does my family have to do with this?”

“They will be willing to do anything to have you, do you understand?” There was no room for calm in his voice. He spoke in fits and starts, quickly. The panic was so tangible that it made me stop believing he was lying. “Do you think they won't come and threaten your family?”

“Wolves? How can they threaten my family? Are animals!” I didn't take it seriously. “Do they pee in the garden to mark their territory?”

“They will try to mark their territory, yes,” he confirmed sternly. “What will be different is that you are the territory, and you will be marked.”

I looked at him in shock, immediately regretting giving him credit. “I live in…”

“I know where you live,” he said, entering the long avenue that connected the center to the suburbs.

He stopped the car in front of my door without any hesitation, as if he had been there for hours and knew the way blindfolded.

“Lock the door and don't come out until I pick you up tomorrow morning,” he recommended, without looking at me. My eyes were fixed on the rearview mirror, searching for something I didn't understand.

I opened the door. “There's no need to worry, I won't be going to the office. I don't think I will go again.”

“I'll be here at nine.” he ignored me.

“Did you hear what I said?”

And still, he ignored me. “I'll talk to your father.”

“No.” I was alarmed. “You're not going to involve him in this nonsense.”

“It's nonsense just for you, Brooke.”

“This is absurd for anyone with a functioning brain.”

Farrow rubbed his hand over his eyes, suddenly exhausted. He seemed conflicted, not knowing how to act. Finally, he looked at me, and a flash of unexpected sweetness collided with the anger that darkened his gaze.

“All good.” he gave up, succumbing to my logic. “Let's leave that aside for now. But please, at least tomorrow, promise me you won't do anything rash. I'll be with you at nine, I'll take you to the office, and I promise I'll answer every question you have. Promise me.”

I thought about it. Overall, we reached a compromise. So I reluctantly shook my head, mostly for fear that he would take back his last words and decide, at the last minute, to break into my house to tell my father some absurd story about wolves.

“I promise. But I don't have any questions to ask you. I would if I believed half a word of what you invented. Goodbye, Mr. Farrow.” I greeted grumpily, running up the two steps that led to the front door.

“Brooke?” he called back, rolling down the passenger window. “My name is James. It's time for you to start using it.”