Wolf #1: The Pack [COMPLETED]

Preview

Cover Photo and Media Above Source: Life Feeling and Photos. Pinterest, www.pinterest.com/pin/510103095289806763/.

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"Are you still at work?" I ask.

"Not really..." His response confuses me but he adds before I can clarify, "Abe told me that you had a dance performance coming up."

"Oh...yeah, I do," I gather that Abe is Detective Abel, "How do you two know one another?"

"He's my cousin."

The revelation knocks my socks off. They don't look remotely alike—they don't even share the same surname. Maybe they're related by marriage.

"So when is the show?" His voice distracts me from my thoughts.

"We're opening next weekend," I stifle a yawn, "Giselle. Are you going to come and see it?"

"Yeah, I have another cousin who's in it," His family clearly has deep roots in Heceta Beach. How have I never heard of Jace's family? Nothing escapes this tiny beach town, especially large families that has a lot to gossip about.

"What's her name?"

"He. He's actually more like a distant family member from Korea—"

"Wait, you know Young-Jae?" I nearly drop the phone, "I didn't know he had any family out here...are you related by marriage?"

"Sure," It sounds like he says it with a shrug.

"Uhm, sorry," My cheeks are bright red as I realize how loud I had been a few moments before, "Young-Jae is my dance partner and a good friend."

"So you're the one."

"Excuse me?" I say meekly, sure that my cheeks will be permanently flushed.

"You're the one he's always talking about," He says nonchalantly, "I also heard that you were taking Spanish dance classes with him."

"Yeah—"

A loud bang from upstairs has me jolting. I set my mug down and pull the phone away from my ear to listen for anything more. Had it been lightning? It couldn't have been. It sounded like a crash or—

I yelp as I hear the bang again, scrambling to the cupboard by the sink. My dad keeps a handgun there for when Steph and I are alone. My hands fumble over it, the familiar clicks and springs sliding back into place—just like I have been taught. It's cold and heavy in my shaking hand.

"Amelia," I hear the muffled voice of Jace, "What—"

I hang up and dial 9-1-1, begging desperately for the operator to pick up quicker. Just as she does, I hear footsteps. The sound of shoes against the staircase.

"He's here again," I whisper, "Please send someone."