Howling to the Heart || Isaac Lahey

34.

I quickly parked my car out the front of a mechanics after finally get a hold of Stiles. After I dropped Scott off to Deaton, Stiles called me and told me Erica knocked him out and broke something in his jeep which was why he didn't answer me for hours. I was ready to make that bitch drown in her own blood when he told me.

"Stiles!" I yelled, slamming my car door closed. "Where are you?" I pushed open the door and Stiles whirled around with a relieved sigh and a pale face. "Are you okay? Where did she hurt you?" I grabbed his face, moving his head around while I looked for any blood or injuries.

"Riah," he said softly, grabbing my hands. "I'm okay, I promise. She only knocked me out and threw me in a dumpster."

I dropped my head on his chest, knowing he was lying about being okay. "I'll tie that bitch to the back of my car and drag her across a road full of glass."

Stiles huffed a laugh, wrapping his arms around me as I dropped my hands from his face. "I would love to see that. What happened with you and Scott?"

"Oh, you know, just a family reunion with Derek who tried to get me to join his pack and I refused and then Erica and Isaac fought us but obviously we kicked ass until Derek got involved and kicked Scott's ass and then I tackled him to the ground and then Boyd told us he already joined Derek," I said in one breath, not even sure if that sounded right.

"Boyd joined Derek," Stiles repeated and I pulled away, looking up at him. "That means Derek got his pack."

I gravely nodded. "Everything is gonna get worse."

"Shit," he swore, letting go of me. "Let's go see about my jeep and then get out of here."

I nodded and pushed down the door handle beside us with a cringe as I looked down at my hand. Something slimy was covering my palm and I quickly wiped it on my shirt.

"Hey!" Stiles called out to the man working on the jeep lifted above him. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked the man, the both of us stopping behind him. "All I needed was a starter."

"Yeah, but it looks like your whole exhaust system has gotta be replaced," the man pointed out, not even bothering to look at us.

Stiles sent me an annoyed look before looking back at the man. "Why do I get the feeling you're slightly overestimating the damage?"

"This will probably run you around, like, twelve hundred for parts and labor," the man informed us.

"You're joking," I scoffed. "This thing doesn't even have a catalytic converter! And, yes, we know what a catalytic converter is."

The man stopped working, looking at us in annoyance. "Do you know what a limisted slip differential is?"

"Yes," I said, raising a brow.

Stiles glanced between us, before sighing a 'no.'

The man turned back around, continuing his work. "Yeah, could run you more like fifteen hundred."

"You should've let me done it," I groaned to Stiles.

Stiles glared at the back of the man's head. "Okay, just finish."

I glanced back up at the jeep, shaking my head before following after Stiles.

"We'll be back here, seething with impotent rage," Stiles muttered. He pressed down on the door handle to the waiting room and gagged. "Oh, nice. Real sanitary."

"I forgot to warn you," I cringed, pushing the door open, my hand landing on that slimy goo again. "It was on the other sid—" I cut myself off, my words turning heavy as Stiles walked in behind me, closing the door.