Monster in My Bed

Chapter Two | Cologne Boy

Okay, so someone should have reminded present-day Kaia, once again, that entering a border is much easier than trying to cross out of one because present-day Kaia now has a healing bullet wound in her right shoulder.

I can't tell for certain whether or not border patrol knew who I was, but they did know what I was. They were most definitely not willing to let a rogue slip through unharmed. Hence the bullet wound. Honestly, the bullet launching itself into my shoulder wasn't that bad if you compare it to the pain I felt having to remove it with a stick afterward. I'm sure the fact that I ended up breaking the stick in half as it was in my shoulder didn't help the pain much either. Go figure.

Luckily, I did manage to cross over the border. Not easily, but I made it.

Now, I have a blister on the back of my heel the size of Mexico that literally has me wanting to hack my foot off. Walking west of a border for nearly three days straight in sandals two sizes too small does that to a person. The poor, little, white tank top was unfortunately soaked in a deep crimson, so I needed to find other means of clothing. This also resulted in another blood stain, but it wasn't mine or as noticeable as the other one. Got to love black clothing.

I downed my third tequila shot relishing in the taste that I had missed so much. The bartender eyed me cautiously. Humans were so worrisome. Sure, tequila did mess me up a bit, but that's after nearly ten shots. Three shots weren't going to do much to me besides maybe make me say a few things that I'll regret. I tend to do that sober, so it isn't much of a big deal for me.

I sat the small shot glass down on the counter with a smile directed to the bartender before walking away into a crowd of obnoxiously drunken idiots.

Bar hopping was a hobby of mine that I had missed. It wasn't the feeling of whiskey burning down my throat or the crowds of beligerently drunk people that I missed, though. It was the line crossing that usually happened some time after.

Pushing through the masses of sweaty bodies, I made my way to a bathroom. I breathed in deeply taking in the aroma of smoke that hit me like a brick wall as soon as I yanked the door open. My smile grew even larger if that were even possible. I took long strides to face myself in the mirror.

In all honesty, I was kind of a mess. I managed to rent a motel in unclaimed territory for a night with the forty bucks little luna had in her back pocket. I used that time to take about seven showers. I was smart enough to know that going into pack territory wounded was a stupid idea. It's stupid mistakes like that, that get rogues killed. Packs are not to be taken lightly. The next day, I went to the nearest dollar store and stole a tooth brush, some razors, deodorant, and gummy worms. Me being the idiot that I am forgot to steal toothpaste. You can imagine my displeasure of having to brush my teeth with soap from the motel. I still had yet to get any new clothes, so I had to deal with the blood smudge. The jeans were seriously warming up to me, though. They were like baggy sweatpants, but in blue-jean form.

Thanks to the multitude of showers, my hair now looked like the light brown that it originally had been before being locked in a cell for who knows how long. The amount of dirt and grime that came off of not only my hair but my body as a whole in the shower was morbidly disgusting. I can honestly say that I have never seen myself so pale after any former color from the years of grime was washed away.

My pale skin allowed for the obvious view of a plentitude of scars that I had managed to aquire over the years. The most evident flaw being the scar that made itself known across my forehead. I was not a fan of it.

"Screw you, Kaden," I muttered lightly brushing my fingertips over the unwanted mark. The memory of it was not a happy one. Kaden, my older brother, had given it to me after he threw me down a flight stairs one day. I think we were in Ontario, Canada, but I truly don't remember. We've been in so many places that I can't even name off half of them. All that I recall from the incident was Mom having a full blown panic attack as she took in my bleeding head. Kaden looked as if he had just seen a ghost obviously upset with himself by what he had done, and Dad just told me to get up and walk it off. Again, that was the type of environment I grew up in.