Payment (revised)

Chapter 20

Thanks for sticking with this story through all its inconsistencies
We have mapped out the rest of the chapters and have decided this story will be 36 chapters long so wish us luck and we'll do the same for you lol enjoy

edited: 5/13/20

edited: 8/13/23

"You absolute bastard," Erica seethed, stalking towards Stiles with the heat of hellfire behind her.

She was dressed in dark, flowing lace that contrasted vividly with the platinum of her pinned hair. Her eyes found his, easily forcing him to still. The only other option was to paint himself as the skittish prey to her prowling predator.

As he had feared moments earlier.

Still, Stiles didn't feel like prey. That was the problem. He wasn't afraid of Erica, not like he should be.

Stiles had abandoned the pack. The minute he walked out the door, without any intention of returning, he had plastered a glowing target on his back.

No doubt Derek had sent out his minions to hunt down the stray when he found Stiles missing. No doubt Erica was going to bring his limp body back to the Alpha where he'd be a prisoner for the rest of his life.

If he had a life left to live by the end of this.

He knew that Erica had only killed the man threatening Stiles so that she would have the pleasure of doing it herself. That was the truth, yet Stiles still wasn't afraid.

He couldn't seem to differentiate the Erica who had taken him to the market from the one in front of him with murder in her eyes.

The memories of Erica laughing with him as they talked around the dinner table, only a few days ago, didn't add up to the huntress before him. He could still recall her quivering lip when they found Lydia barely conscious, but alive at the docks.

That girl was the one he knew. The one who was able to challenge the devil and come out on top, but also the one who cared so deeply for the people she considered family that she'd tear her own arm off to make sure they were safe.

He couldn't muster the fear, or hatred, that he ought to feel for the woman about to kill him. Not when she had become one of his closest friends.

"Erica," he tried to talk to her.

So much had changed in these short forty-eight hours. His anger had never been directed at her, but she had been caught in its crossfire.

Erica was fuming with righteous anger as she marched forward at the sound of his voice, her head held high.

"No, you don't get to say anything," she seethed, chest heaving with indignation at his audacity.

There was much on her mind, and it was his job, as her friend, to hear her out before making excuses.

Stiles had hurt her. He saw that now. He had hurt her and he never meant to.

"Do you have any idea what you did," she said, stopping short only a few feet from Stiles.

Normally, if she was irate with him, she would run up and give him a noogie, push him against a wall, ram herself into his shoulder, anything but stop a few feet short from him.

Her trust in him was in pieces. For leaving her without a word, that he was shameful for.

"Erica, I'm sorry," Stiles said, "I never meant to put you in the middle of this, I never meant to hurt you-"

"Shut up!" She screamed.

Now when Stiles took her in, diamond like tears twinkled in her eyes. She drew back into herself for a reprieve.