13 • Internal Conflict
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Aiden
Aiden's fingers turned pale as he navigated a sharp bend the following day. Early light bounced off the trees, forming soft shadows on his face. He slumped lower into his seat, a worn sigh leaving his lips. Tires crunched on gravel, a reminder of the long journey still ahead.
Merrick frowned and faced him with concern. "You look drained," he murmured.
"That's because I am." The tension in Aiden's reaction betrayed the obvious gravity of the situation. "Considering yesterday's training session and traffic incident, I'm surprised I slept."
Merrick's nod was a silent agreement, but Aiden could feel the weight of his friend's gaze, a probing whisper of concern beneath the surface. His mind drifted back to the chaos and adrenaline of the previous day, the memories swirling like a storm he tried to contain.
Delilah's charming laughter returned. He remembered how her red dress accentuated her curves and how she walked smoothly to work, leaving him breathless. A twinge of desire twisted in his stomach, mixing with guilt like oil and water. He could almost feel her warmth, the sweet scent of her hair lingering like a phantom.
Regret crashed over him─he had let one of his pack members go after her, turning their world upside down. His pulse raced as he battled the tempest inside, attempting to keep the truth about his nature hidden even as it clawed at him from the shadows.
He understood that his feelings for her ran deeper than he dared to admit. The connection they shared was electric, thrilling, and terrifying all at once. But admitting that to himself would mean confronting all the implications─vulnerability, longing, and the possibility of heartbreak.
Aiden breathed steadily as the truck clattered along the narrow lane in the thick morning air, but last night's mayhem continued to haunt him. He nervously drummed his fingers on the steering wheel while looking at Merrick, whose eyes were focused on the road.
Silence hung between them, dense with unspoken thoughts. He sensed the rogue wolf awaken inside him, a primal force longing to break free, sparking an intense urgency. He couldn't rid his mind of Lowell's haunting, blood-red eyes or the creeping sense that danger loomed just ahead.
Aiden gazed at the cracked screen of his GPS, the flickering blue dot pulsating close to their destination. "We're four blocks away," he remarked, releasing a deep sigh. "The street is just around the bend up there."
Rusted metal and peeling paint surrounded them as they traveled down a desolate street with new construction spots against crumbling businesses and forgotten shops. Boarded-up windows stared back at him, dark and lifeless.
Merrick nudged him, a smirk creeping across his face. "Looks like somebody forgot to pay the construction crew," he teased, but Aiden nodded, his heart heavy with the weight of recent events.
With all of his attention focused on his business, managing the art pieces and antiques for vampires was already a significant source of stress. Moreover, Aiden had forgotten to send additional payments to the construction company that was renovating an old building for him.
Apart from Anton, Lowell had never informed anybody where he lived. He kept quiet all week, not informing his brother where he was or what he was doing. Aiden thought the elder brother would clarify everything, but he has only ever found Lowell's postal address next to this construction zone.
Aiden's knuckles turned pale as he clutched the steering wheel, his mind in a frenzy. He leaned forward, his jaw tight, sensing the tension winding through his muscles.
"Yesterday wasn't an accident," he whispered, his teeth clenching. The engine's roar mirrored his inner conflict as he pressed the pedal harder, resolve driving each action. "Something happened to Lowell. He lost control."
People like his pack member needed to master their wolf instincts from a young age. Without that, they risked succumbing to their primal urges. They didn't change into a wolf, but rather progressed into a more ferocious form, an authentic savage. The entire pack listened to tales of the ancient savages. Fatal yet thoughtless, stuck in the beast for a while.
Aiden remained watchful because of that fear. He believed that fear maintained control over all of his men. Despite their battle with the wolf, they never succumbed to it without a fight. Even when the situation boiled over into violence, there was still a part of the person that could control themselves and step back. It was one thing for the young wolf to lose himself during combat, but to pursue Delilah while remaining uncoordinated was another matter. It felt as if Lowell had abandoned any effort to rein himself in. The question centered on why he hadn't sought to address that facet of his personality and seek his Alpha's help.
Aiden parked the Hummer with a low rumble, the engine's growl fading into the silence of the street. He leaned back in his seat, brow furrowed, as he peered out at the grimy façade of the apartment building ahead. The old masonry had cracked windows, and a flickering neon sign above the manager's door illuminated the pavement full of discarded trash.
He pulled the crumpled paper from his pocket, squinting at the address Anton had scrawled.
"Lowell moved here?" Aiden muttered, his eyes narrowing as they swept over the worn-out neighborhood. "Why in this shithole?"
A stray cat slinked past, and a distant siren wailed, echoing the unease that settled in his gut. He couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't the haven he had pictured for a pack member.
Merrick tossed the car door open, stepping out onto the cracked pavement as the engine's hum faded behind them. "This is the address Anton gave us. He and the guys returned to the campground to see whether Lowell stopped there."
Aiden stepped out and strolled around to his Beta, his demeanor conveying confidence and compassion. "I keep an eye on my men," he said, voice steady, "and I refuse to let any of them find themselves in a home like this because they're scrapping by."
He clinched his jaw, determined. The last thing he wanted was for a werewolf to fall prey to the city's darker inclinations─Aiden would make sure the men had a real shot, even if it meant diving right into the gritty side of life.
"What do we know about him?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice.
"Lowell has always been an honest man," Merrick replied, his gaze steady, but Aiden couldn't shake the tightness in his stomach. "The guy had a spotless record, and Anton watched him throughout his life."
Aiden's eyes dipped to the weathered fire escape that clung to the structure, the paint flaking off it like a memory that had long since vanished. He felt a chill go down his spine as the musty, wet air engulfed him, a stark contrast to the polished life he knew.
As he stepped into the apartment complex, the scent of decay intertwined with stale pizza overwhelmed him, and the distant thrum of a television reverberated in his chest, compelling him toward impulsive decisions. However, the notion of authorities visiting quelled his urge, serving as a reminder that caution was their most valuable companion.
He rapped his knuckles against the manager's door, each thud echoing like a drumbeat, cutting through the TV's sound.
"Hold on, will ya?" A voice barked from behind the barrier, rough and irritated. The sound of locks clicking echoed, implying that the guy took pleasure in his fortress-like security.
Aiden felt a tinge of irritation but forced it down. This man might hold the key to solving all their problems. The door cracked open just enough to see the manager, a hefty guy wearing a dirty white tank top with his stomach protruding like a deflated beach ball. He stood there with a tangible stare.
"What the hell can I do for you?" His gaze flickered disdainfully between Aiden and Merrick, dismissing them like unwanted pests. "Here to rent an apartment? If so, it must be in separate residences since we don't accept homosexuals." His gaze then shifted to Merrick's rainbow pin on his collar. "Just sickening."
Aiden's heart raced, disbelief washing over him. He caught his friend's clenched fists, a storm brewing in his darkening eyes, but Aiden placed a calming hand on Merrick's arm, a silent plea for restraint.
"My brother's on a camping trip, and he misplaced his key," Aiden said, attempting to maintain his composure. "Can you let us in to grab his spare, please?"
"You've come to the wrong place," the man grunted, trying to close the door, but Merrick's hand shot out, preventing the door's retreat. "Can't help homos."
Aiden's thoughts raced with the idea of beating this guy for information, but keeping the police out of the situation was a much better option.
He reached into his wallet, fingers brushing against crisp bills, and pulled out several twenties, holding them up like a lifeline. "Would you open his door now?"
The manager's gaze flickered between the money and Aiden's unwavering stare, uncertainty dancing in his eyes. A smile, forced and tight, began to spread across his face. "Perhaps I could help in an emergency situation."
"That's why we need to enter, sir," Aiden responded, his tone intensifying.
Merrick withdrew his hand, and the manager hesitated, the sound of chains sliding across the top lock punctuating the air like a countdown. The door swung open, and the man's grin became sincere, an unwilling participant in their hunt for answers.
"What's your brother's name?" he barked.
"Lowell Cornick," Aiden replied, his voice steady despite the unease curling in his stomach.
"Huh. You don't look like his brother," the manager muttered, a condescending look in his eyes. "I know Anton. Why didn't he come?"
Aiden breathed in, his physique tightening as he met the man's gaze. Every instinct urged him to unleash his pent-up frustration, but he remained composed, channeling his energy into restraint. "Anton is with him. Is that a good enough answer for you?"
The manager then extended his palm, and Aiden placed the cash in it, his movements precise.
With a groan, the guy returned his attention to Aiden's impatience. "Third floor. Number 310."
"Thank you for your cooperation," Aiden replied, the words dripping with an edge of sarcasm as he shifted his weight, the tension lingering like smoke.
The manager's fingers fumbled as he folded the crisp bills, the clean edges wrinkling under his nervous grasp. He exhaled as he stepped out of his room, the heavy door creaking open while he grasped the keychain, its metallic jingle breaking the silence. He locked it behind him and led them to the staircase. The man's breath quickened as he ascended three steps, his cheeks flushed and his forehead glistened with perspiration.
"Did Lowell mention when he'd be back?" He huffed, his voice hoarse yet tinged with intensity. "He isn't going to skip out on the rent, right?"
Aiden followed behind, a bemused grin on his face. "Don't worry, you will receive your money."
The man's gaze flicked over his shoulder, skepticism etched across his features. "Just... keep it down in there. Complaints stack up like my heart rate," he muttered, scratching his head as if he had more to say. "I don't want to call the cops on you two."
"Noted," Merrick grumbled. "We'll be good little dogs."
"Can we speed this up?" Aiden pushed forward and gazed at the manager.
He slumped against the wall, his brow furrowed in frustration. "You guys are nothing like Lowell's girlfriend," he grumbled, his voice tinged with a weariness that suggested countless interactions with difficult people. "She treats her elders with respect."
Merrick wore a sly grin, his eyes sparkling with playful intent. His smile widened as he shot back, "Sure, but I doubt she's as prickly as a porcupine."
Aiden's palm fell on Merrick's shoulder, a hard but unspoken request for control as he moved in closer, his stare keen. "Who's... ahem... this woman?" His voice was low and forced, and he looked at the manager, who squirmed a little.
"Cynthia, I think," the man replied, glancing around as if expecting her to materialize from the shadows. "I see her here a few times each week, but something about her screams trouble."
Aiden remained motionless, the burden of doubt weighing upon him. He glanced at Merrick, whose shoulders rose and fell in a subtle acknowledgment that none of them had any say over who Lowell talked to. A cold shiver slithered up Aiden's spine, his mind racing with images of betrayal, each one sharper than the last. What if sharing their existence with others meant exposing their hearts to destruction?
His stomach twisted at the thought of Lowell's unsettling interest in Cynthia. The unnerving thought of the Embassy's reaction to this hung over him, their cold, piercing stare overwhelming him with dread. He knew the stakes were greater now, with shadows of danger closing in on them.
As the small group emerged onto the third floor, the manager sagged against the wall, his shirt damp and clinging to his back. He gasped and looked around, as if the air were heavy with silent fear. He wiped his brow with fatigue, set his jaw, and shuffled down the corridor, his footsteps echoing in the silence like a soldier marching into battle. He halted, narrowing his eyes at the worn, weathered numbers on the door. The manager slid a key into the lock, the mechanism clicking with a reluctant groan before he pushed the door open.
"Hmm," he muttered, peering into the abyss of the empty apartment. "I guess Lowell decided to move out and didn't tell you."
"Excuse me?" Aiden's astonishment rang in the small space.
Merrick let out a grunt and furrowed his brow as he stepped across the threshold behind them.
Aiden walked in farther, inspecting everything. The walls had once been alive with memories, but now they were barren and dead. It seemed as if a tornado had swept through, leaving only debris in its wake.
"No furniture, no clothes... nothing," Merrick whispered, surveying the empty room. He turned to Aiden, the bewilderment evident in his gaze. "This doesn't make sense."
"I don't get it either." Aiden shook his head and shrugged. "How could this happen overnight?"
The manager, now meandering through the apartment, mirrored their confusion, his eyes wide and searching.
"When was the last time you saw someone here?" Aiden inquired.
The man gave a shrug. "About eight hours ago. Maybe nine. There was a lot of noise coming from in here─screaming, shouting. I stayed out of it. Didn't want to involve the cops."
Aiden's gaze swept the room, landing on the laminate floor where deep, jagged gouges marred its surface. He scowled as he bent down to see the damage in further detail. The markings bore an uncanny resemblance to claw marks, a detail that didn't escape anyone's attention.
"I made it very clear about the $500 pet deposit," the manager grumbled, his fingers tracing a fresh set of scratches on the wall. "When you see your brother again, inform him he now owes me two grand for all this damage. There's a foul animal odor in here."
Aiden's voice remained steady as he navigated the kitchen. "As I previously said, you will get your money."
"Sure, sure. I trust you," the man replied, his eyes darting around the room. "It's not every day that I have a visitor connected to the Mafia."
Aiden offered no rebuttal. He understood the man's need for a narrative that suited him; it would serve their purposes well, at least for the moment.
His eyes flickered up to Merrick, who exhaled a heavy sigh, the weight of unspoken thoughts hanging between them like a thick fog. The air felt charged with unacknowledged fears. This may not have happened just last night. An internal conflict consumed the pack member. Aiden overheard claims that Lowell and Cynthia were in a passionate relationship. But what if the truth was darker? What if the guy had turned on her like a predator?
He surveyed the room, his gaze flitting across the vacant area. There were no signs of violence or anger. If blood had spilled, it would stick around, a haunting reminder. His senses were on high alert as he searched for any sign of what had transpired.
"Do you know the name of the bar around the corner?" Aiden spoke up, looking right at the manager, whose eyes seemed to hide a lot of secrets. "Maybe somebody there knows something."
"Iron Horse," the man replied, skepticism dripping from his words. "Freaks frequent the pisshole."
Aiden felt a surge of determination. The bar could be their saving grace, a shining light in the midst of all the gloom. They had to figure out who this woman was to find Lowell.
As they stepped toward the exit, the manager's voice echoed, brittle and sharp. "Tell Lowell there will be no refunds on his deposit. And please ensure that they stay away from my complex. If you're Mafia, hit him for me."
Aiden grumbled, the sting of reality setting in. Figuring out Lowell's madness with clenched fists turned out to be a lot trickier than it seemed at first. But the truth was a lot more complicated, and the search was only beginning.
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