Finding My Pack (5 page)

  He takes a deep breath in. "I'm going to open the gown now Kitten." I stiffen but nod. No one has ever seen me naked before. But I think because of the situation it's not so bad, he's trying to help me. It's still embarrassing though. I can't help the blush that spreads over my face. I stare at Finn's hand as he holds a pen to the paper.

A white sheet is placed over me before Kellan begins. I asked what it was for and Finn told me it was to cover up parts of my body that aren't being examined. That helped to make me feel better about this. I can't bring myself to think badly of Kellan.

   Kellan presses on my belly like he said he would. He also pushes on my ribs which earns a grunt from me. He says sorry but keeps doing it. I think we're done when I feel his fingers brush over the tops of my thighs. I suck in a breath and clamp them together. Kellan immediately moves his hands back.

  He clears his throat and turns his face away. "Severe bruising on her upper thighs," He tells Finn. Looking back to my face, I notice his eyes are bright and his cheeks are turning a little pink. Not from embarrassment I note, from anger.

   "Kitten are you sure...you could have blacked out...he could have..." His voice cracks." I could check real quickly, just take a look? No touching."

  As if I wasn't already dying of embarrassment and shame. I nod and look back to Finn. He looks uncomfortable too. Without raising his head from the paper, he reaches up and takes my hand. I squeeze it and he squeezes back. I'm glad he's here with me. It's nice not having to do things on my own.

  Kellan bends my knees and shifts my legs apart. He lifts the sheet off my bottom half. I think I stop breathing. Quickly after, he closes my legs and lays them down again, pulling the sheet down once again. I exhale and release Finn from my death grip.

  He looks relieved and tells me all is well. I was pretty sure that nothing happened in that way, still, it's nice to have confirmation. Kellan then takes his gloves off, washing his hands again. I take Finn's hand in mine as Kellan sticks a needle in my arm, filling little tubes with my blood. That doesn't take long, thankfully.

  "We'll leave so you can get dressed, Logan gave me some new clothes for you to put on, and they’re by the sink."

  With that, he leaves the room, Finn following behind him after a chaste kiss to my cheek. I get the clothes, putting them on quickly. This time, it's white boxer-briefs, orange night pants with a white, long-sleeved shirt. I get back on the table and yell that I'm dressed.

  This time, it's just Kellan. "If you don't mind Kitten, I'd like to wrap your ribs. It might make you a bit more comfortable."

"Okay. Can I have more ibuprofen too?"

"Sure thing, I keep those in the kitchen, though, I'll get them before you eat," He says, with a soft smile on his face.

  He pulls out a rolled up piece of stretchy fabric and motions for me to lift my shirt up. I sit up straight as he wraps the fabric around my ribs tightly. It hurts but feels much better once he's done. It’s more comfortable to breathe. I let go of the shirt and it falls back into place. Kellan pulls out a rolling stool from under the table and takes a seat in front of me.

  "The hard part's over now." He smiles. "But I would like to talk to you about immunizations. You said before that you've never been to the doctor. How is that Kitten? Are you sure you never went as a kid?" He asks.

   "I'm positive. There was never anyone to take me. I was thrown in a dumpster as a newborn and a crazy homeless lady found me. She thought I was a cat, hence the name". I say, watching Kellan flinch. "She never took me to a doctor or a vet for that matter. I got away from her as soon as I could. She was in no condition to care for a kid or even a cat. I've been on my own since." I whisper the last part, looking at my knees. Kellan's long fingers cup my chin, lifting my head. My eyes now looking into his grass green ones.

  "It's okay, you're here now. I would like to give you some immunizations, but not right now. Now...my dear girl, you must eat." He smiles sadly. Again, I think of how beautiful this man is. I hate that I make them so sad. I should learn to keep my mouth shut.

   He helps me down for the table and we head for the kitchen.

T
his time I'm taken to a formal dining room. Kellan pulls my chair out for me like I've read in books. I feel like a princess. What a stupid thought. It looks like most of the guys are already seated as well. I'm seated between Ash and Logan, Reed right in front of me flanked by Jace and Finn, Remy sitting at the head of the table of course.

  Kellan comes out of a swinging door with a large plate in one hand, a glass of orange juice in the other. He sets the plate down in front of me. "Tristan made an omelet for you this morning, you could use the protein." He takes a bottle out of his pocket and gives me two pills. I shoot him a thankful smile and swallow them down.

  Ash leans into me, looking at my plate longingly. "Is he making us all omelets, Kell?" He asks.

  "No worries Ash, he's making them for everyone. He wouldn't do that to you," Kellan says laughing.

  "Good," Ash says in his gruff voice, leaning back and looking at me, "Tristan makes the best omelets."

  It certainly smells good. Little do they know that I'm not that picky. Moments later, Tristan starts carrying plates in for the guys, all with omelets on them, and other plates stacked with bacon, sausage, ham, and toast that he places in the middle. Kellan took a seat next to his twin so Tristan takes the last seat open beside Ash on his other side.

  Once he's seated, everyone begins eating or reaching for things. Ash holds out a plate of sausage, raising a brow in question to me. I nod and he puts several sausage patties on my plate. I pick up my fork, about to start when I remember how I made a fool of myself the day before. I look around me and decide to act civilized in front of these gorgeous boys.

  I see Jace across from me, next to Reed. He's already eating, using his fork and knife to cut the egg into small pieces, taking his time. I mimic what he's doing. When he takes a bite, I take a bite. When he takes a sip of coffee, I take a sip of juice. When Jace wipes at the corners of his mouth with his napkin, I do the same. Because this is the first time in a long time I didn't feel the need to eat in a hurry, I actually taste what I'm eating.  Ash was right, this is amazing. The egg is fluffy and light with ham, cheese and onions on every forkful. I wonder how I'm ever going to go back to cold cans of soup and off-brand lunch meat packs after tasting Tristan's food.

  Now that I think I have Jace's routine down, I look away from him and see Remy watching me. My hand pauses halfway to my mouth. Oh no! He must have been watching me watch Jace. I probably look like a total creeper. I wouldn't blame him for thinking that either. Jace is as attractive as the rest of them. He's the quintessential golden boy. Hair the color of sunlight, eyes as blue as the sky. And the five o'clock shadow he's sporting isn't hurting either. There is something enchanting and refined about Jace. His fluid movements and the way he holds his body. A really, really good looking body...

   I shake myself from those thoughts. Now I really am creeping on Jace like Remy probably thought I was. I turn away from them both. Let them think what they want. What does it matter anyway? As I turn, I notice Tristan is watching me too. Well, me and my plate. He has a hopeful look in his chocolate eyes. Oh, I realize I've stopped eating. I probably insulted him. I take another bite and wipe my mouth before speaking.

  "This is wonderful Tristan, Maybe the best thing I've ever eaten."

  Tristan beams at me, using that kind voice of his, "Thank you, Kitten, I'm glad you like it". For the rest of breakfast, a satisfied smile stays on his face.

    After I'm stuffed to full capacity, I sit and watch the guys finish eating. As soon as Logan is done he pushes his plate away and jumps up, clapping his hands together.

  "Okay, Kitten, time to do something about that hair. To quote you from yesterday, 'your hair looks like crap". He says, chuckling a little. It makes me laugh too but earns a few frowns from the table. I guess we have an inside joke.

  Logan takes my hand in his holding it all way back to Tristan's bathroom. He picks several things from the drawers and directs me to stand in front of him. He lifts me by my hips, placing me on the counter, between the twin sinks. I gasp, looking at him like he's crazy. That seemed so effortless for him.

  "Oh come on, stop looking at me like that. You weigh what? Eighty pounds soaking wet? Are you even five foot Kitten?" He says playfully. I mumble, "I'm five foot one thank you very much. A buck seven too." He hears me anyway and cracks up laughing. I have the sudden urge to kick him in his shin. I've earned every pound, I doubt he would understand that, though, so I let it go.

  Logan takes his time squirting my hair with a spray bottle, brushing, drying, and then braiding my hair in one long French braid that hangs down my back.

"This way your wavy hair will be extra wavy when we take this out tomorrow," He states like he put a lot of thought into this.

  "Um...Logan?"

  "Yes, my life size Barbie?" He replies, and this time I do kick him in the shin. He laughs.

  "Are you going to do my hair every day? At least...every day that I'm here?" I ask shyly.

  He looks a little hurt when he responds, "Do you not like me doing your hair?"

  "OH, no! I uh... I love it. I just...is it normal?" I look to my lap. I just admitted that I don't know what normal is. Which makes me strange. I am strange, but I don't want him to know that.

  Logan uses the end of the brush to lift my chin. "Why do you care what normal is Kitten? Is it that important to be like everyone else? You said you loved it, so does it matter?" His voice and his eyes are sincere.

"No, I guess it doesn't."

He smiles. “Good, and yes, I will be doing your hair every day. Every day that you are here. Which is as long as you want to be here. We want you to stay with us Kitten. We've already talked about it."

  I give him a confused look, "Why? Why would you want me to stay? You don't know me. I have done nothing to deserve any of this".

  His gives me a sympathetic look. "Let me guess, you're on your own. Have been for a long time right?" He asks, I nod. "You don't have anyone right? No parents, no family?" I shake my head, this time looking down. Everyone has parents; I just don't know who they are or why they didn't want me. He knows all of this already, what's he getting at? Logan tilts my chin up again.

  "Believe it or not Sweet Kitten, most of us were in the same position as you are now. We know what it's like and we don't want you out there on your own anymore. You're a tiny, young thing and as beautiful as you are, it makes you even more of a target."

I blink at him. This amazing, kind, insanely attractive boy thinks I'm beautiful? I close my eyes, daring the tears pushing against my lids to fall.

  Logan must take this the wrong way because he rushes to say, "If you don't want to stay with us permanently, at least stay until we can make sure you will be taken care of. If that means finding you a family until you turn eighteen, or paying for a home for you and getting you a good, reliable job then that's what we'll do."

  I open my eyes to look at him, tears now flowing freely. Logan gently pulls me into a hug, cupping the back of my head in his large hand. With my face pressed up against his chest I whisper, "Even Remy?"

……..

After having thoroughly laughed at me for my genuine question, Logan helped me from the counter and drug me behind him to Remy's office. That's where I am now. Seated in a brown leather chair facing his impressive desk. The room's as intimidating as the man who owns it. It's sparsely decorated in different shades of brown and cherry wood. Both walls on either side of the desk are full bookshelves with files, folders and worn looking books. Papers stick out all over the place like he just shoved them in somewhere. I wonder if he has a system or has to dig through every time he needs something.

  I wish he would hurry up. It feels like I've been sitting in here alone for over an hour. When Logan brought me, Remy had said he needed to talk to the guys and he'd be back shortly. Apparently we have a difference of opinion on what shortly means.

Finally, a disheveled looking Remy walks in. Wearing a black button up shirt, untucked and the sleeves rolled up, paired with a dark pair of jeans and black boots, he looks the part of an attractive young man relaxing at home. I know better, I doubt Remy is ever relaxed.

   "Sorry for your wait Miss Kitten, that took longer than expected," Remy says, walking around and taking a seat behind his desk.

  He sits forward with his fingers steeped together under his chin. I shift uncomfortably under his piercing gray eyes. I wish he didn't have to be so serious all the time.

  "So what did you want to see me about?" I ask, getting this started so that it can end.

  "There are several things. I'm just not sure where to start." He replies, sighing and leaning back in his chair. "I want you to understand Kitten, that all of us, even me," he smirks, "would like you to stay with us. Here, in our home, for as long as you would like." I wait for more but he doesn't continue.

  "Uh, listen. I'll start by saying that I would love to stay here. The guys are nice to me and your house is amazing, better than any place I could have ever dreamed of staying." I pause, trying to get my words right. I take a deep breath. "The thing is...I just don't get why you would want me to. I mean, Tristan and Ash found me bleeding in the street, for Christ's sakes! I understand that some people can't walk away from a person in need, and I appreciate everything you've all done for me, don't get me wrong." I rush to say. God this is coming out wrong.

  Remy speaks up then, saving me from bumbling on. "I understand what you're getting at. Truthfully, I don't know why we want you to stay. I can't give you the answers you seek in that department. It could be your youth, for some, your beauty. Perhaps it's how your gratefulness for simple things reminds us of where we came from. All I know is that each of us finds you fascinating and intriguing. We are simply drawn to you and like having you around." He holds his hands out wide in an “I-don't-know” gesture.

  "Kitten", long, uncomfortable pause. "You haven't been shown the kindness in your life that you deserve. Trust doesn't come easily for you, no one understands that more than me. We don't want to hurt you. We won't make you do things you don't want. That's not who we are. I think you feel comfortable around us, maybe even trust us, just a little. If you thought we were bad people, you wouldn't still be here, would you?" Remy gives me a questioning look, eyebrow raised.

  "You're right," I whisper. And he is. I haven't felt like I've been in danger at all since I've been here. I don't know why they want me here, but it doesn't matter. I want to be here and I want to know these remarkable boys. "Okay, I'll stay."

"Good." Remy smiles broadly. His whole face lights up when he smiles. He should smile more.

  "I should work though; I don't want to just live off you. That's not right. There are a few places that let me work under the table. I can make my own money. I don't make much, but I'd like to at least contribute". I state firmly, this is a deal breaker for me.

  Remy gives me what I think is a pleased smile. "We pool our money in this house, Miss Kitten. We hold a firm belief in 'what's yours is mine and mine yours'. That way everyone is taken care of. I'm glad you’re offering to contribute though only do so if you are willing to use our money as well. Everything is equal here."

That makes me a little uncomfortable. No way do I make as much as these guys. My part won't be equal. Although, no way am I staying and NOT throwing in what I make.

  "What kind of work do you do Kitten?" He asks, sounding genuinely curious.

  "There's an ice rink that I work at, a restaurant that lets me wash dishes when they are busy, and a hotel that lets me do laundry for them," I reply. I hate admitting that those are the only work I can get to someone who is obviously rich and probably has a great job. I'm not ashamed though, I do what I have to and it works for me.

  "What do you do at the ice rink?"

  "Sometimes I work at the snack bar, and sometimes at the skate rental desk, but my favorite job is when I get to work with the kids. The mornings are family time and there are little kids falling all over the place. When someone takes the time to show them how it's done, it's like...like the whole world just opened up to them and they own it. It's not a practical skill but once they can stand up on their own or do a few tricks it makes them so happy. That's what I do, teach them to skate." I look back to Remy and he has a blank look on his face. I look at my knees. I was rambling. I clear my throat.