Chapter 10

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The Experts Mental Institute was situated near a lake in a private property. The leaves were beginning to yellow. This area was clean and polished considering it was an institute for the mentally disturbed.

The building was perfectly painted a warm beige color with its name written in black across the front entrance. It was fairly big, standing at three stories high. Brown curtains covered glass windows.

Weston had told me this was one of the two Expert Mental Institutes in Michigan. We were lucky it was only a forty-five minute drive from Huntstown. Weston also informed me that these institutes were in private places and all werewolf doctors here did have a degree.

Weston and I stared at the building for a few minutes longer before I muttered, “Are you ready?”

“Nope. I was never ready. You dragged me here,” Weston said, turning back to face my Land Rover. “Why don’t we go back home? Warren’s probably sleeping. I don’t want to disturb him.”

“No, we’re doing this and if we have to stay here for a whole night for you to finally go inside, then we will.”

Weston groaned, stuffing his hands in his leather jacket. “Why are you so stubborn?”

“I’ve always been stubborn,” I smirked, pulling my knit beanie over my head. “I’m here, Weston. I’ll help you.”

While Weston stared at the building again with fear, I slipped my hand into his warm one. I didn’t miss the tingles that ignited in every cell of my body. “Come on, you could do this,” I smiled up at him.

We started walking towards the entrance and I was pretty sure Weston hand was starting to sweat. I couldn’t blame him. I was scared and nervous to see the person who tried to kill us.

The double doors slid open and the lady at the front desk smiled warmly at us. Her black hair was pulled up into a bun and her brown eyes calculated us. “Hello,” she called out.

“Hi,” I said when Weston didn’t say anything. “We’re looking for Warren Greene.”

“Mr. Greene has a lot of friends,” the woman said with enthusiasm while digging in a drawer. She pulled out a clipboard and a pen. “Please just sign in here and before you leave, you must sign out.”

I nodded, signing my name in and practically forcing Weston to sign his name. After we signed in, the lady instructed us to go to the second floor, turn right, and find room number two hundred six. I muttered a thank you and dragged Weston along with me.

“I don’t think I could do this,” Weston said, pacing inside the elevator while tugging at his black hair.

“Weston, calm down,” I said, grabbing his hand and walking onto the second floor. The white linoleum floors were shiny under the fluorescent light. There was the smell of werewolf everywhere mixed in with a slight trace of vanilla. The doors were a dark mahogany, numbers painted on the wood.  

He was breathing hard and I had to stop to look at him. “Look, I’m nervous too,” I said slowly. It was true. My heart was pounding against my rib cage and the memories of him flashed through my head. I forced the vile images out of my head. Warren was better now. I just knew it.

“So, why are you doing this?” Weston whisper yelled. “Let’s just go.”

“Give your best friend a chance,” I said, comfortingly. He still looked unconvinced, so I tugged his hand in front of Warren’s door.

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