Don't Make it Personal AA/TW

Pejorative

CHAPTER 5 - Pejorative

—Location: Outside Apartment Complex - Paris, France.—Date: Aug 21st Time: 1300 hrs—

It was hot, too hot. Their rental car was parked upon the Paris streets, situated idly in the sun's beating gaze. It's black exterior menacingly absorbed the outside's heat with an unprecedented force.

The tracker Noah seamlessly stuffed into Micheal's apron had led them to an apartment complex not too far from the Cafe. It was a normal looking building. Well, normal for France. The Haussmannian architecture was beautiful to look at, but after a few hours of mind numbingly staring at an unmoving concrete structure, it sort of lost its charm.

Malia anxiously tapped her leg in the backseat of the car, peering out it's open window and towards the tiny complex. Her patience growing wearily thin.

The pack had been waiting for Micheal to leave for hours now. Feeling as though the vehicle's small interior was closing in on them with every second that ticked by. Other than the loud hum of the air conditioning, the American's sat in awkward silence, occasionally ducking to avoid the attention of unwanted spectators.

They needed to search his place for any clues; But with Micheal remaining stagnant, the likelihood of them finding anything became slim.

Malia grabbed onto head extension of the driver's seat and peeked her face into the front of the car."We should go in." she asserted, staring at Derek and Noah, hoping they would agree.

Instead of getting a response from either of the men, Lydia rebutted "And do what exactly? Would you like to be the one to explain to him that we placed a tracker in his clothes?"

With an audible huff, Malia pushed off of the seat in front of her and plopped her butt back into its original position. She turned her head to the side and took in Martin's supercilious leer. She understood that Lydia isn't trying to sound condescending, but the strawberry blonde was getting on her last nerve. She furrowed her brows and pressed her lips into a straight line mimicking Lydia's expression.

It felt like they were idly wasting time. The sun was starting to shift behind the cities landscape allowing it's shadows to encase the once scorching streets. For all the pack knew, a beaten and bloody Scott could reside just beyond the very walls that stood sturdily in front of them. Crying out for his friends in agony, pleading for an escape; And what was the pack doing? Nothing. They were sitting on their asses, bickering with each other like siblings on a road trip.

Liam, who was stuck in the middle seat between the two frustrated women tried to break the tension. "What if he's not home? He could have left his apron here."

Recognizing the way Lydia skeptically pondered the possibility, The were-coyote tried to backup the Beta's claim. "He's got a point. Maybe Micheal left before we got here...Or maybe, he found the tracker."

That's it. If she didn't get out of the car right this instant, Malia was going to go full Britney circa 2007 on Lydia's ass. They may be best friends but right now, with her forehead laced with sweat and her eyes threatening to transform into a beautiful blue hue, she considered her an obstacle.

Malia grabbed onto the doorframe, clenching her hand against its leather upholstery. It was taking everything in her to keep her claws from emerging. Scott was her anchor; The one who promised he would always be by her side... Without him, she felt powerless.

"Alright!" Noah groaned. Stealing the attention away from the two bickering girls and back to the case at hand. "Derek and I will check it out. The rest of you stay here."