Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven
I stop talking, his face has softened, but I know if he ever meets him, he won't be nice.

"Get rid of every trace of him," he says. I can’t make out the emotion in his voice.

I do as he says. I delete every photo and even go so far as to delete his number.

Wait a minute, I'm being controlled here.

While he eats the leftovers from the snack, I take a shower. Things have been too dramatic, I need to remind this guy why of all the women in this pack, the gods chose me for him.

My brown wavy hair is usually tied into a messy bun. I haven't discovered the beauty of makeup yet, so I look the same during the day as I do at night.

I'm not skinny and I'm not fat, but I'm masculine, although I've never set foot in a gym my whole life.

What should I wear? What should I wear, I think as I rummage through my travel bag. It's winter, but it's still noon and the sun is shining, so I make do with a light button-down jumper over my bright yellow dress.

I love this jumpsuit, it's one of the first expensive things I bought when I started working, and there aren't many. It reaches just below my knees, but it's tight, too tight against my skin.

I'm pretty sure I look good in it, with pumps, hair tied back, thin silver creoles and my oversized sunglasses.

I leave the bedroom, ready to go. Good, he's done with dinner. He downs a bottle of gin like it's a juice or something. I can't handle this! Seriously, I can't! It's only noon!

He sees me coming down the hall, stops drinking, and stares at me with his mouth open. That's right! I'm there.

"I'm ready," I say as I put the money on the fridge.

"I've a list of things I need to buy, but I think I can take a cab so you can go back to work. And I want to get back early so I can cook," I say.

"No, don't cook tonight, I'll take you out," he says.

Wow. That's a first. In fact, I hadn't realised that this man had never taken me out before, and then I remember that I've known him for two months.

He refuses to drop me off at C.D Furnishers, I assume it's about the tight dress, but then he doesn't go in with me but stands there chatting with some people in wolf form.

He "instructs" a young man to go in with me and push my shopping cart.

I don't mind, besides these wolves look at me like I'm a mannequin from a Chinese shop, I know that's just because I'm starting to secrete juices, my smell has changed, or rather intensified since we're so close to the full moon. An hour and a few minutes later I emerge from the shop with two overstuffed shopping carts and a couple of guys carrying the heavy staff behind me, microwave, fridge, couch, pillows, bed, plates, dishes and some groceries.

Six young men run to pack the stuff into the Dragon. I get in and sit down while they do it. I look at the receipt: R62 000 in an hour, but that's only half of what I got. He gets into the dragon and we take off.

"Is that all you need?"

I laugh. Is he serious? "Those ugly curtains need to go. I'll go shopping for more tomorrow."

He chuckles. "Alice would freak out if she heard that."

"Your interior designer?"

He scoffs. "My ex."

I clench my fists. "Mhm..." I say without looking at him.

When I turn to look at him, he's the stupidest smile on his face.

"She wasn't nearly as beautiful as you," he says. "No need to be jealous. I love you."

"Oh, don't worry, her decorating skills don't scare me."

He laughs.

"You've no idea how long I waited for you. It took me two years to finally get up the courage to approach you. When I first saw you, I couldn't believe there was such a thing as you. You were - are perfect. Of course, when we ran into each other, you walked right past me because you were coming from work."

I'm speechless.

"From then on, I went to your restaurant and sat in the parking lot watching you, too scared to go inside. It was an everyday thing. Of course Jeremy, the asshole, overheard what was going on, and he told everyone at home when I wouldn't let him trade my kite for his. They all teased me, but of course Jackson was the one who finally put his foot down and stripped me naked. If I hadn't talked to you that day at the edge of the woods, I'd have been beaten to death by all my idiot brothers."

My anger slowly subsiding, I blush and forget all about the ex with no style. I'll come back to it later when he annoys me again. "I'm glad you finally got the balls," I say.

He laughs.

I learned two things today: that this man will control me, and that he can easily charm me into forgiving him for things I should never have been angry about in the first place. After dropping me off and helping me unpack the groceries, he flys away and says he's to get back to work before rogues start transforming.

I'm alone again, I don't have to cook tonight, so what am I going to do? Oh yes, I'm getting domestic and cleaning out the closets in the master bedroom, although they're mostly filled with leather jackets and faded jeans.

A dirty set of red lingerie drops to the floor. I sniff the panty. I’ll make sure to look for this scent all around town.
As I swear under the bed, the broom keeps hitting against something until I look under it. There’s a small bag. Its small enough to be an over night bag. I don’t understand why he’d put it under the bed. There’s plenty of space in the closet.
First I've to struggle with the zipper, it looks like the bag hasn't been opened in a while, but finally it opens and nothing could've prepared me for this, nothing at all!

I've so many questions that I know I need to ask this man, too many.
I've a feeling there's more to him than what he gives. And now, a bag containing a talking old lady’s head ....no, I can't handle that.

I startle and drop the bag. The head rolls and comes to a stop on it’s side.
The woman laughs.
I scream.
What kind of witchcraft is he involved in? What have I gotten myself into. I’m afraid of him now.
I think about running, but he’d find me anywhere.
Maybe I should just put the head back where I found it and say nothing.
Ew. I can’t touch that thing.
It had small hairs covering it entire face, like fungus.
“I need a hand, pretty face,” the head says.
I startle.
I startle. Okay, Danielle, breathe.
I take the broom and try to shift the head into an upright position.
It futile.
I leave it be.
Its getting cold and dark out. But I’m too scared to let the head out of my site to even try and close the windows. What if it disappears. Plus until today I didn’t think it was possible for someone to survive like this.
I start getting angry. Was he serious going to have sex with me in his bedroom with a not-so-dead dead woman can hear everything?
I hear the familiar flap of wings as he arrives. He calls out to me as he enters, but I can’t find my voice.
I hear his footsteps and know he's walking toward the bedroom.

He enters but stops on the doorstep, opens his mouth but says nothing. He looks at me with a look that I think is shock.

I’m sitting in the floor, lodged in the corner. The head keeps looking from side to side. At him then back to me with an amused glint in its eyes.
I'm just going to sit here and look at him until he tells me what kind of crime he's involved in before I dump him and get a restraining order.

He walks in slowly, picks up the head and puts it back in the bag. He sits down next to me, still silent. I can't take it anymore!

I bury my face in my hands. “You have a weird looking woman’s head under the bed you sleep in.”

“That’s not a question,” he says. “I saw your eyes swimming with them when I entered.”

“How am I supposed to feel safe exposing my neck to you when I just discovered you can do that?” I say hotly, shooting daggers in his direction.

“You find the head of a witch and immediately assume, I’m a serial killer?” he asks, looking straight at me. “I’m actually offended that you’d think I’d ever hurt you.”

"I'd love you too if you were one," I say as I get up and leave the bedroom.
I'm only a few steps away from the kitchen, in fact I don't even know where I'm going in this house, when I feel him grab me from behind.

He holds me tightly, his arms crossed around my waist. I can feel his chest pumping, but I can't hear him breathing, his face is far from my head, he's very tall.

We stand like that for a while, his phone rings but he ignores it.

"Did you mean it?” he asks. "Do you really love me?"