The last thing James "Jay" Hale ever imagined was to begrudgingly return to Beacon Hills, find out his older sister was murdered, and then be forced to go on a wild goose chase after an enigmatic Alpha that seemed to have a particular interest in ru...
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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX:
The Unfortunate Misfortune of James Hale Continues
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"Lydia, tell me again who this kid is and why exactly he's here?"
Jay leaned back, resting the back of his head against the wall as he tried to get comfortable in the crappy hospital chair for what felt like the millionth time in the past ten minutes. Every time he shifted, the seat found a new way to press uncomfortably into his side. He'd say it was worse than getting shot twice in the stomach two days prior, but that was probably a tad bit dramatic.
Mr. Martin also seemed to think that Jay's constant shifting was dramatic, and maybe a little suspicious too, because he turned to his daughter with an attempted whisper to ask who the hell he was.
Again.
"Dad," Lydia deadpanned from her position curled up in the bed, growing irritated with the constant side-eye her father's been sending them. "There are only so many times I can say the same thing before I go crazy. Jay is my friend. He's sitting with me because I asked him to. Now please go back to staring at the wall and stop asking me questions that make me wish I never woke up from that coma in the first place!"
Mr. Martin still wasn't convinced. He wasn't exactly the most involved dad—not involved at all, actually—but he was familiar with Jackson Whittemore's presence in his daughter's life. And James Freaking Hale, whose been all over the newspapers for the past two days, was not him. "And he's not your boyfriend?"
"She can only wish," Jay muttered under his breath, blinking his eyes open to find both Martin's glaring at him. He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Tough crowd."
Truthfully, even he didn't know why he was there; camped out in Lydia's hospital room being forced into the clutches of the evil plastic chair. After the crazy night involving Kate and Peter's well-deserved deaths and Derek's new Alpha status, Jay had been torn in all sorts of directions as the guy inevitably connected to everyone. He was now the designated middleman, whether he liked it or not.
Stiles and Scott were latching on to him with more craze than usual; Scott out of gratefulness for Jay protecting him from the barrel of Kate's gun, Stiles out of blatant possessiveness, hovering over Jay's shoulder a little more than usual as if he would disappear if he looked away for too long. Allison had reached out to Jay to apologize for everything—even going as far as sending him the original newspaper article she somehow got her hands on before print about Kate's true involvement in the Hale Fire—to which he could only shrug in response and try to act more indifferent than he actually felt.
It was a gesture he appreciated, but he wouldn't forget Allison's betrayal. At least not so soon.
Meanwhile, on the other, more insane side of the spectrum, Derek was somehow more paranoid than he was before. As the new Alpha and the next biggest threat to the hunters, he suddenly had a chip on his shoulder that made his head bigger than it ever was before. Jay caught him checking out his own red eyes in the sun visor mirror of his car and every other passing reflection more times than he could count. It was pathetic, irritating, and amusing all at once. Derek was also sleuthing around town trying to find a new place for them to stay, which left Jay to his own devices.
