(You are my son.)
It meant safety.
It meant home.
I didn’t make a noise as I rose to my feet. I didn’t hesitate as I moved toward the white wolf fighting against the brown one. I didn’t think twice as I tracked their movements, waiting, waiting for that right moment.
It came quicker than I would have hoped.
Richard knocked Thomas back.
Thomas crashed into a tree with a deep whine.
He slid to the ground, eyes unfocused.
Richard stood above him.
His lips pulled back over his teeth.
A low rumble started in his throat, and I saw his muscles coiling as he prepared to attack.
It took only seconds, really.
One moment he was standing above Thomas and the next I was bringing the rock down on the back of his head. There was a sharp crack that I hoped at the very least meant a split skull. The wolf yelped, and for a moment, I felt a sick thrill. That we’d won. That I’d taken him down. That he would fall to the ground and would never rise again.
I saw the swell of blood on the top of his head. It spilled down between his eyes and onto his snout, dripping to where his lips curled.
But he did not fall.
He turned to me.
Thomas tried to push himself up but collapsed back on his paws.
I took a step back.
The great and terrible beast took an answering step forward.
“Come on, you fucker,” I said hoarsely. I tightened my grip on the rock because it was all I had.
I thought of Joe. And my mother.
I felt bad. I’d left one behind for the other. And now I was doing it again.
But at least he’d be safe if I could take Richard down with me.
And that was the only thing that mattered.
I wouldn’t let him take Joe.
Not again.
Richard’s ears flattened to the back of his head, and even though it seemed impossible, I could have sworn the wolf was smiling.
Like he knew he’d won.
I remembered what I’d been taught.
It was all I could do. And as long as I remembered, maybe Joe would be okay. And Thomas. The others. And one day, they could look back and remember me for the things I’d done since the day we’d met rather than the last thing I did.