Full Moon ☾ Derek Hale

Chapter Forty-Four: The Frayed (Part 2)

Chapter Forty-Four: The Frayed (Part 2)

Chapter Song: Panic Room by Au Ra 

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Thump. My head jolted against the dirty window as the bus hit a pot hole, rattling the vehicle and waking me up from my nightmare just before Derek hit the ground.

A mute groan passed through my throat as I massaged my pointer finger into my temple, opening my eyes. I glared out the window, finding a barren wasteland of brown whizzing by us as we trekked along on the umpteenth hour of the ride.

Safety in numbers, Scott had preached over and over again as he had shoved my clothes into a duffle bag. He had forced me, against my will, on their cross country trip for a number of reasons. A being the Alphas, B being the looming threat of something called a Darach Stiles had discovered to be the source of the human sacrifices, and C being that he was afraid to leave me alone.

The familiar heaviness that sat on my chest returned. Ironically, the only time I escaped the suffocation was when I slept.

And that's all I had been doing—sleeping.

Yet every time I closed my eyes, I found myself back in the abandoned mall watching Derek fall to his death.

I straightened my stiff body upright. I turned around in my seat, finding Scott leaning against the window and Stiles playing on his iPad.

"Heyyyyy buddy." Stiles cooed, his eyes scanning my face to see how lightly he should tread.

"How long was I out?" I muttered, my throat dry and raw. I blinked a few times, hoping the tightness around my eyes would dissipate. It didn't.

"An hour." Stiles responded. "Anything?" I shook my head with a frown. The bus rattled again as it ran over another pothole, causing Scott to wince.

"What's your deal?" I asked.

"I'm still healing." He muttered.

"Still? Scott—"

"It's because it's from an Alpha. It's healing, just real slow." Scott sighed. I turned back around in my seat, leaning my head against the window once again and closing my eyes in hope of gaining some relief from being awake.

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The brakes of the bus squealed and I found myself being launched into the back of the seat in front of me and crashing back into mine.

"Jesus." I groaned. Within seconds of being awake, the heavy pain settled on my chest once again, the realization that Derek was dead hitting me like a truck. I positioned myself back into my seat, craning my head to try to see what the cause of our abrupt stop was. There was stopped traffic as far as I could see. I turned back around to face the boys.

"This is going to add another hundred hours onto the drive." I scowled. "You should have left me at home." Scott stared out in front of me, concern washing over his tense features. He slowly stood from the seat.

"Whoa—Scott? Where you going?" Stiles asked.

"Boyd. He's going to do something." Scott gasped. I whipped my head back and forth between looking at Scott to Boyd, who was sat several rows ahead of us. His back was to us, with Isaac at his side.

"What? How do you know?"

"Look at his hands."

"Shit." The word escaped my lips as I spotted Boyd's clawed hands wrapped around the cheap leather of the bus seat in front of him. Stiles stumbled out of the seat, letting Scott into the walkway. He maneuvered himself to the front of the bus, putting his hand over Boyds. The two began talking in hushed tones.