JUNIPER'S POV
My heart races wildly in my chest as I stare at the figure standing just outside my apartment building. The street stretches out ahead of me, long and empty, and I realize it will take forever to reach the end if I don't do something now. A part of me wants to scream, hoping someone in the apartment will come out, but I know it might only get me killed.
For a split second, I freeze, my legs feeling like they're glued to the pavement. My breath hitches, my pulse throbs in my ears. But then adrenaline surges through me, and I snap into action.
I turn around, my hand shaking as I fumble to grab my phone from my bag. My fingers tremble as I dial Hiram's number, but I realize how useless it is. Hiram is all the way across town, and this man is just a few steps behind. The sound of his footsteps cuts through the air-heavy and quick. He's following me.
Before the call can connect, I hang up, panic clawing at my throat. Without thinking, I press Troy's number next, dialing frantically.
"Troy, it's June!" My voice is sharp and laced with panic.
I'm already moving, my legs pumping as fast as they can go, but the sound of footsteps grows louder, like he's shuffling between jogging and running.
"I need you to help me. Now! I-I'm being followed!"
There's a pause, and I hear Troy's voice on the other end. "June? What's going on?"
"I don't have time to explain! Please, just get here!" I can hear the man's footsteps growing closer, faster now.
"June, stay with me. Do not cut off the phone!" he says, while I keep running, trying to save my life.
My breath comes in short, panicked bursts as I sprint down the street, my phone clutched tightly in my hand. The sound of footsteps behind me grows louder and faster. He's closing in. I glance over my shoulder once more.
"June, I'm almost there." Troy's voice is comforting, but it doesn't stop the fact that I am being chased by a stalker.
My heart pounds harder, and I feel my legs aching with the effort to keep going. But then, something shifts in my mind. The world around me blurs, and for a moment, I'm not running from a man. I'm back there-back in Hiram's house, and my eyes find those yellow eyes. As I turn back, I see its ferocious figure coming after me at full speed.
Terror washes over me at the speed of the animal's pursuit, and my feet falter, causing my body to freeze. Before I can react, my body kisses the floor, and I come face-to-face with the wolf.
No.
"NO!" I scream as I begin to crawl back on my butt, but then I back up against a wall just in front of the street.
I could stand up and run out onto the road, but my legs refuse to obey, my body paralyzed by the echo of fear. Then the wolf vanishes, and I come face-to-face with my stalker-a gigantic man with an ugly tattoo at the corner of his eye. I gasp for air, but before I can make a move, his hand clamps over my mouth and my head is shoved violently against the brick wall.
I struggle, my heart thundering in my chest as I try to scream, but his grip is firm, forcing my head to the cold stone. I claw at his hand, my vision spinning, but my body is too weak to fight him off.
His breath is hot against my ear as he growls, "You're not going anywhere."
Tears sting at the corners of my eyes as my pulse races. I want to scream, to fight, but the panic, the overload of memories, has my body locked in place. I feel completely trapped, helpless in a way I haven't felt since the wolf chased me.
But then, I hear it-a screeching tire, and the sound of a car skidding to a stop.
"Get your hands off her!" Troy's voice echoes, causing tears to rush down my face, staining the man's hands.
The man's grip loosens for just a second as Troy pulls him off me. I sit there, shaky and silent, watching as Troy pounds his fist into the man's face. My mind is a blur, and goosebumps rise on my skin as I watch without words. The man pushes Troy away, gets to his feet, and makes a run for it. Troy goes after him while I remain there, trembling. I don't realize he didn't go far with the man until I feel his hands on my body, causing me to jerk in panic.
"Are you okay?" he asks, and I shake my head, tears crawling down my face.
"Come." He takes my hand, helping me to my feet.
That's when I realize I have nothing on me. My phone and bag are on the ground, lying around carelessly. Troy picks them up, and I point to my apartment building. He walks me toward it, and I grip his hand tightly, trying to ground myself.
My phone keeps ringing as we go, but he doesn't check the caller until we get to my door. He searches my bag, taking out my keys, then opens the door and helps me into the room. He shuts the door and takes me to the sitting room, helping me onto the couch.
Then he crouches down in front of me while I look at him, still trembling.
"I'm sorry that happened to you. I should have insisted on coming with you," he says, and I glare at him without a word. He isn't Hiram, but I need comfort, so I throw my arms around him, emptying the tears bottled up in my chest.
He holds me tightly without a word, his hands caressing my back gently.
"It's okay. I'm here now," he says as I press my head into his chest. "And I'll be here as long as you need me to."
Before I can respond to his words, a familiar voice cuts in. "There'll be no need for that."
My heart skips a beat, and I quickly pull away from Troy, turning to my left to see Hiram standing by the door. He's wearing a black shirt, his hands tucked into his pockets.
"Hiram." His name leaves my mouth, and he makes his way toward us with his gaze locked on Troy.
Without hesitation, he extends his hand to Troy.
"I'm Hiram. The boyfriend," he says, giving Troy a hard stare.
Troy's hand slides away from my shoulder, meeting Hiram's.
"Troy Davidson," he introduces himself, and Hiram nods like he's interested, but I can tell he wants nothing more than for Troy to leave my apartment.
The handshake lingers a second too long before Troy pulls away, turning to me.
"I trust you're in excellent hands, June. I'll be taking my leave now," he says, and I give him a slow nod. "Be good." With this, he walks away, and Hiram shuts the door before walking back to me.
"I've been calling you," Hiram begins in a calm tone, and I glance at him, feeling a little irritated at how calm he is. "Is there a reason you preferred to be in the company of Troy instead of picking my call?" His choice of words grates my nerves.
"I don't know, Hiram. Maybe it's because I just got the pursuit of my life, and Troy was the only one around to save me." His jaw tightens at once.
"Describe his face, and I'll find him," he says, and I throw my head back, shaking it.
"June, I…" He tries to speak, but the words don't form. With a sigh, he crouches in front of me, sliding his hands onto my lap. "I'm so sorry," he says, and I open my eyes, glancing down to meet his gaze.
He sits on the couch, pulling me towards him. I get on his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck with my head on his chest as his hands wrap around my body. I shut my eyes, trying to feel safe, but I can't shake off the image-not just the image of the man, but also the flashbacks.
It seems like a dream I've forgotten, but something about it feels very real. I can't say it to Hiram, though. He'd think I was hallucinating. Werewolves aren't real, and I'm probably going to end up in a mental institute if I'm not careful.