Page 7 of Marked By The Filthy-Mouthed Grizzly
“Just need some air,” I say as I grip my mug and head outside.
I walk around to the side of the shop, feeling the cool morning breeze on my clammy face. I close my eyes and breathe in the crisp mountain air.
A hawk circles overhead, a squirrel runs across the parking lot, the trees sway in the breeze. Everything is so calm out here, which feels so damn strange with the furry storm brewing in my gut. My bear is getting himself all worked up again.
You taking a damn temper tantrum isn’t going to get her here any faster,I shout at him.
He snarls back, like he doesn’t give a fuck what I think.
Stop, I warn him when I feel the tantrum coming on like a tremor in the ground. It rumbles through my body—ominous and violent. Unavoidable and imminent. The kind of outburst that ends with me waking up three states over with blood on my hands.
Where is she?he roars inside me, outraged.Where the fuck is she?
My bear doesn’t say words, but I can tell what he’s saying from his growls and snarls. Sometimes I wish I couldn’t.
I don’t know, bro. What do you want from me?
He doesn’t like that answer and charges for the surface. I grit my teeth, flex my body and push him back with all I got. My hand clenches around the mug and it shatters, sending coffee flying everywhere.
That was my favorite mug, asshole, I hiss when he’s pushed back down, pacing in fury.
Now he’s really angry. He lets out a bloodthirsty growl as he circles inside, getting ready to force his way out.
Come and try, dickhead.
I clench my jaw and flex my chest, ready to battle him again. He’s not getting out. No fucking way.
He claws and hacks at me as he charges up with a roaring battle cry. I squeeze every muscle in my body as I grunt and strain, barely holding him back. I stumble into the brick wall behind me, grunting and cursing and wishing we could both be out at the same time so we could fight for real. I’d love to pound my fists into his furry fucking face, but the real curse is that we’re never out at the same time. It’s a cruel twist of fate.
He slinks back down for the moment, but I can tell he’s not done. He’s circling in a violent rage, huffing out feral grunts as I catch my breath.
What are you gonna do?I say, egging him on.You can’t do shit.
Find her!he roars.
Fuck you!
He comes at me again with more force than ever. I slam back into the wall as I struggle to get a grip. A car pulls into the parking lot, but we’re too far gone to stop. I’m fighting for my life here. If this furry prick gets out, he’s going to take me to godknows where and do god knows what. I’ll wake up in Nevada, naked with no ID or money.
“No,” I roar as he starts to slip out. I feel him coming…
My skin tightens, ready to tear as my arms and shoulders balloon. My gums and teeth burn as I feel my canines lengthening and sharpening. My spine curves as the vertebrates pop and crack, rearranging themselves. My fingertips split. Pain sears through my fingers and into my hands as long black claws slide out.
I brace myself, ready to be pulled into the darkness where I’ll be trapped for days or weeks, watching helplessly as this furious beast rampages through the world, but then…
Everything… stops…
I’m stuck mid phase, looking like something out of a horror movie as a car door opens.
We turn with a growl as the scent hits us like a ten ton truck. It tingles our nostrils and sears down our throat. It’s like lightning in our lungs—sweet and sharp and burning with promises that nothing will ever be the same.
We both savor the sweet succulent scent as we turn our head for more.
For once, we’re not fighting. For once, we’re on the same page.
We both want the same thing—MORE.
I push away from the building, taking a step forward, and that’s when we see her.
