Midnight Wolves

Chapter Thirty Seven: Memories

Callie knew that Vik was waiting for her at the house. She could almost feel his anticipation of her return. But, she couldn't go and see him, not yet.

Her conversation with Grace kept spinning through her head. She'd been so sure that her uncle wouldn't have killed her mother and yet Henderson and Vik's parents said the opposite. Maybe Grace was still in love with her uncle, maybe she was trying to cover it up?

Callie sighed and slipped her phone out of her pocket. She'd been largely ignoring it, having forgotten to take a charger with her when she went to her uncle's pack and met Vik. Since being back at Magnum, she'd charged it but hadn't checked it. It kept bleeping though. A constant reminder that there were messages waiting.

But she hadn't wanted to read them. She knew it would likely be Cassidy and Jake checking in with her, asking how she was getting on. But she was getting nowhere. And then, she knew that they'd have texted her when they felt her leave their pack and join Vik's.

It was strange. She didn't have parents anymore, not really, but also it felt like Jake, Cassidy and J had kind of filled that role. With Felicity as an unwanted grandmother. She'd built this family around her without intentionally doing so. And for the first time, she was grateful.

She ignored all of the messages and dialled a familiar number, waiting patiently as the line rung.

"And she's alive," J said with only a hint of humour in her tone.

"Sorry," Callie mumbled, feeling like a reprimanded child.

"I've been fielding panicked phone calls from Jake and Cassidy since you left here. More so since you left the pack."

"Sorry," she repeated.

J sighed. "It's fine. Caleb called me in a bit of a state. I hear congratulations is due." Callie winced at the mention of Caleb.

"Are you angry?" she asked, worry pitting itself in her stomach. If J didn't approve of Vik, if Caleb had somehow poisoned her against him...

"Callie, as long as you're happy, I'm happy. What's he like?"

Callie breathed in relief. "I'm surprised Caleb didn't fill you in," she muttered.

"Oh he did, but it felt inappropriate to ask my brother if your mate was hot."

"J!" Callie chastised, blushing.

"Well, is he?" the wicked she-wolf pushed.

"Yes," Callie admitted, a smile playing on her lips. Her wolf straightened in pride.

"Good hunting."

Callie laughed and took a seat on a large boulder.

"I'm guessing you didn't just ring me to update me on your relationship status?" J asked as she busied herself with something.

Callie sighed, her good mood escaping her. "No, unfortunately."

"What's up Cal'?"

Callie sighed again. Where to begin. "Everyone's lying to me. Or telling me a different version of the truth. I don't know who to trust or who to believe. I just want to find out what happened to my mother. To me."

J was silent for a minute. "You know kid, the only person in this world that you can trust is yourself. You were there, you saw at least some of what happened. If you can trigger your memory then maybe you can work out what happened without all the lies and the bullshit."

"But I can't," Callie whined. "I've tried so hard to remember. I've done everything the therapist said but I can't remember anything else."

"I've got a suggestion that you might not like."

"You mean like the last one that sent me to the Magnum pack and ultimately to the man I love? Keep talking."

J chuckled. "Fair enough." Her voice turned serious, "go back to where it happened. To where your mum was killed. Try to recall it all. I'm not saying it'll help but it might."

Callie was quiet, thoughtful. "The therapist did suggest immersion therapy but I said it wasn't possible."

"Well, now it is."

"You're right."

"I often am," J said with another chuckle.

"Thank you, J."

J sighed. "Anytime, kid. I want to meet him, by the way, your mate."

Callie smiled. "I'd love that. I'd really love that."

"Good. See you soon Cal'."

"I can't wait."

*

Callie wondered about going to find Vik and asking him to go with her. But she also knew that she'd get near him and wouldn't be able to think straight, and she wanted to get this done.

So, she took a deep breath and set off in the direction of the house where she'd been told her mother was found. Thankfully, it was right on the edge of the packlands so it wasn't somewhere that they had to look at every day. She'd wondered why they hadn't simply torn the structure down but instead had let it become grown over with weeds.

It looked gnarled, the way towering thorny plants had wrapped around the building. It was nothing but a simple house, and, not for the first time, Callie wondered what exactly her mother had been doing out here – what she had been doing out here.

She neared it and stopped, unable to go any further and wished Vik was there.

Had her father come here often? She wondered. Had he come to mourn his moonmate at the place where she was stolen from him?

Steeling herself, Callie stepped forwards and began tearing away at the greenery that hid the door handle. Gripping the cool metal, she threw her weight against the door as she pressed down on the handle. She bounced off, the door shuddering but not opening.

Cursing, Callie tried again and this time the door budged, just a little at first. Her shoulder ached but Callie repeated the move, digging her feet into the coarse ground and shoving with all her might.

Finally the door relented and Callie toppled inside.

She paused, caught in the silence that filled the room. Dust particles floated through the air and although the world was still hot outside, in here it was cool, almost cold. The windows had long been boarded up with planks of wood, the glass shattered behind them.

Callie wasn't sure what she'd expected to find. An outline of a corpse on the floor? A dark and dangerous room? But it wasn't. It was just a house. Albeit a silent one.

Callie stepped forwards slowly, eyes scanning everything – looking for any clue or sign as to why she'd been here or what had happened.

But there was nothing. It wasn't even familiar to her. It just looked like every other house.

Callie sighed in frustration, tiredness hitting her like a brick to the head. She span in a slow circle as disappointment drowned out the adrenaline that had been coursing through her veins.

There was nothing here.

She sighed again and shook her head at the floor, eyes tracing the wooden planks from one end of the building to the other. It was small, much smaller than the house she'd been given. One room with a small bathroom peeking out from behind a half closed door.

Who had lived here?

Callie was about to give up and go and find Vik, when she caught sight of something on the wall just above the skirting board. She frowned and crossed over towards it, squatting down to get a better look.

It was a small drawing. A ball of scribbles really – but in the centre, two eyes. And they were eyes, she was sure of that. Glowing yellow eyes.

Dust tickled her noise and she needed to sneeze but it wouldn't quite come. Her hand traced the drawing and for a moment she was somewhere else. A little boy with glowing yellow eyes stood in front of her. "No matter what," he said in that same assured voice he always used.

"No matter what," her younger self repeated.

And then, Callie blacked out.