Chapter 21

A/N: I'm sorry that YATA wasn't updated on time. My boyfriend's mom accidently set her apartment on fire. I'll try to catch up by either posting two chapters this week or the next.

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I turned sideways in my bed, my back facing the window, and folded my arm at the elbow to support my head. The sun reflected on the screen and I tilted my mobile so that I could actually see what I was typing this time.

Communities within the USA.

Community colleges showed as the first page result. Nope. Definitely not something for me; I didn't even finish high school.

Sects in the USA was what I wrote in the square space of the search engine next, frowning at the first word.

Rhys had denied them being one and the Bullets didn't seem like e sect. Sects were centered around one person or a small group of people who were treated like gods or messengers of the gods; the Silver Bullets were far too democratic to fit that description. However, being at this for the past ten minutes, I was running out of terms so I had to give it a try.

My frown only deepened at the results: governmental lists of cults and sects, unorthodox religions in the United States, sects and satanic cults... This time I got a lot of results, but I felt as if they were irrelevant. I checked some of the articles though. After scanning through them briefly, I dismissed them.

Societies.

I knew it was a long shot, but I was desperate to find something about the things Rhys was still keeping from me.

"An organized group of persons associated together for religious, benevolent, cultural, scientific, political, patriotic, or other purposes," I read aloud.No, I didn't need the dictionary explanation of the word; I needed examples of societies. I closed the page and kept reading the titles of the other articles.

Sub-specialty societies... Clubs and societies... No, no, no!

I sighed and swiped my finger over the screen of my phone to remove the browser, clicking on the button to the side to lock the device before I placed it on the bedside table.

My search had proven fruitless. I guessed I should've expected that since I wasn't sure what exactly to look for. I'd sat down earlier to make a list of terms and tried them all. No matter what phrase I typed in the engine though, I couldn't find anything on Rhys' community.

I turned to lie on my back, placing my hands underneath my head.

I'd expected to learn more about the Silver Bullets during my visit to the Flemings. I did find out things about certain individuals, but I was still clueless about what set the Silver Bullets apart from everyone else in town.

There was the general air about them, the animalistic air. It no longer scared me - with the exception of Alec, of course - but it was there; they sometimes appeared as a friendly pet, but it was there.

There was the fact that some time ago a whole group of them had moved into Woodbury and all settled in the same neighborhood. What happened to the people who were already there?

Rhys had taken me for a walk after breakfast, introducing me to a few more people, but everyone we'd met was a Bullet.

And there was that too: why would they need a name?

And of all the things they could call themselves, why the Silver Bullets?

I could understand the second part if they were a hunting club or a sports team - bullets were fast - but they were neither, I couldn't come up with anything on the first word and the only way the whole phrase would make sense was if it was connected to werewolves and maybe some other mythological creatures. Everyone knew those things didn't exist, so what was with their name?

The image of the large dog I saw in front of Rhys flashed through my mind.

Had it really been a dog?

It looked like a wolf. Jared had been worried that I'd seen it... Could it really had been a wolf?

The Bullets lived near the woods; it was possible they've discovered a cub or a few, couldn't find the parents and took the little ones in. Wolves were wild animals and it was illegal to raise them as pets; perhaps that was why Jared was worried and Rhys was angry with him.

My eyebrows furrowed; did they think I would alert the authorities?

I shook my head, dismissing the thought. Even if Jared had seen that as a possibility, Rhys knew better.

Maybe they would allow me to play with the wolf. I'd never seen one in person, except for that night and only if it had truly been such an animal, so I was curious. And if the Silver Bullets had raised it, then surely they'd trained it.

My head tilted sideways, my eyes on the ceiling, but not seeing it.

Could that be where their name came from?

Could Rhys' society be a wolf-loving one?

If so, they'd probably brought the animals with them which meant there were more... And 'Silver Bullets' stood to mock the silly prejudice about creatures such as werewolves.

I extended my right arm to scratch my knee, my gaze moving from above me to my elbow and the marred skin.

We would have to talk about them soon, about my scars and his.

Bobby.

It was such a cute name, an innocent name. You wouldn't expect a guy named Bobby to be dangerous. You wouldn't expect him to be evil.

He'd seemed sweet too; he had the most charming smile and adorable dimples. His dirty blond hair was always messy, but it suited him. He wasn't all that athletic, but he had a well-shaped body... and was much stronger than he appeared to be as I later discovered.

I'd been sitting in a park the first day I'd met him, nibbling on the sandwich I got from the charity kitchen. I didn't want to eat with the rest of the homeless people; they smelled funny. I knew I sometimes did too - I didn't get many chances at taking a shower and usually just cleaned myself the best I could at some café WC room - but I'd managed to sneak into an empty apartment the night before and properly wash myself. As a result, today I was clean and shaven and since I'd also managed to find food - in a pretty good mood.

He walked by with a couple of his friends. My eyes took all of them in, but settled on him. Luckily - or so I'd thought at the time - they sat at a nearby bench.

At some point, they noticed I was looking at them. He noticed. He pointed at me, then beckoned the other two with his finger. They leaned towards him and soon burst into loud laughs.

I lowered my gaze to my feet. They were laughing at me. They were making fun of me. I shouldn't have stared.

A pair of worn-out sneakers entered my line of vision and I looked up. It was the blond boy, the one I'd been staring at. He couldn't have been more than nineteen at the time.

He'd introduced himself as Bobby and asked me for my name. I'd snuck a glance towards his friends; the two were watching us with interest. I hesitated to reply so he sat next to me, uninvited, and began talking.

Bobby had a way with words. He knew exactly what to say to make me feel as if I was talking with an old, trusted friend. Eventually, I gave him my name. He'd asked for my number, but I didn't own a phone. We'd agreed to meet up, casually, the next day at the same time. Even though it hadn't been a date, his easy-going nature made me excited to see him again.

The next day he'd asked me out and I'd agreed. A week later he'd invited me to his house, claiming we'd be alone since his parents were out. I should've known something was up when I arrived at his home and found other people there, but all I'd been was surprised and he'd quickly convinced me I'd misunderstood him.

Bobby was a sweet name.

Bobby seemed like a sweet guy.

Bobby was the one who burned my skin and laughed.

I closed my eyes, trying to forget the image of their faces, trying to forget their guffaws as I screamed and writhed in pain, trying to get rid of the stench of my own flesh being set alight.

Police came and took them away. I was driven to a hospital. Weeks later, after the trial of the boys, the state put me into a foster home, but I soon ran away. I couldn't stay in the same town as where it had all happened. I'd ran away during a particularly cold winter with nothing but the clothes on my back and thirty dollars, most of which I'd spend on a ticket out of town. I used to be brave enough to hitch a ride, but not after Bobby.

I spend a couple of weeks in shelters for homeless but they were cramped. The cold made people vile, fighting for a bed. I was barely seventeen at the time, underfed and still frightened because of what I'd been through; I couldn't stand up to them.

I settled for sitting at a bench in a park, snuggled in a light jacket I'd stolen the week before. The sun was setting when some guy with dreadlocks approached me. I'd moved back in the bench, trembling now with fear added to the cold; what could he want with me?

He extended his hand and offered me a half-eaten hotdog. I took it, keeping my eyes on him, wondering if this friendly gesture was some kind of a trick. He walked away without a word.

I ate the hotdog. I didn't know the guy, he could've been sick, and yet I ate it; I hadn't eaten for almost two days.

As the sun set, it became even colder. It was difficult to keep my eyes open. I fought the sleep, but I knew I was losing. I wasn't just tired; I felt as if I was about to faint.

Was it the cold?

Was that how I'd die?

Alone, in a park, frozen to death.

Would anyone even notice I was gone or would they think I was just another teenage junkie who'd knocked themselves out?

It was the warmth that had made me open my eyes and it was only then that I realized they'd been closed. The sensation was coming from a thick coat draped around my shoulders. Before me stood an elderly woman with thin-rimmed round glasses and white curls peeking underneath a woven brown hat.

Meredith's face was contorted by motherly concern.

The tears slipped out. Tears of gratefulness that I had met this kind soul who had brought me hope and faith that there were indeed good people in this word and tears of pain as I'd lost her after less than an year of knowing her.

When she died, I moved to a different town again - Woodbury - but this time I wasn't running from my past; this time I was looking for a new beginning. The money she'd left me had helped; knowing Rhys had helped further.

I sighed.

I still didn't know him that well.

My expression molded into a frown; that wasn't true. I didn't know them - the Bullets - that well, but I knew Rhys.

And I was pretty sure I was falling in love with that man.

My phone rung as I smiled at the coincidence: he was calling.

"Hey," I greeted when I picked up.

"Hey."

Was it me or did he sound tired?

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing much," I stretched my legs and the arm that wasn't holding the phone. "Just lying half-naked in bed and thinking about you."

There was a pause after which he cleared his throat. I smirked imagining him red-cheeked.

"Well, topless anyway," I said. "What are you doing?"

"I was wondering if we could talk?"

He sounded bothered, his voice shaky. Maybe it wasn't the image of me half-naked that made him nervous; maybe he worried about something else.

"What do you want to talk about?" I asked quietly.

He'd had a busy week after the time I'd spent at his parents' house. Well, it was to be expected with the new murder. Rhys had assured me that the culprit had left town right away; apparently that was their M.O.: kill and run. The knowledge of that had made things easier for me, helped me to get back to my routine, but Rhys had been on edge for the past five days. Was he about to share what was troubling him?

Had I earned enough of his trust for him to do that?

"Us."

What was he talking about?

Oh, yes, I'd asked him a question.

My heart sped up: was he breaking up with me?

Had I done something wrong?

Could it be that the Bullets did not accept me?

Rhys had assured me that they liked me...

His next words took that worry away, but did little to ease my anxiety:

"I want us to talk about who the Silver Bullets are."

*****

A/N: I bet you've been waiting for that chapter! You won't have to wait much... Unless Rhys chickens out. Do you think he'd do that or is he going to finally tell Riley the truth about what he is?

Also, what do you think about Riley and the glimpse of his past?

I'm sure none of you are a Bobby fan, but do you like Meredith?

I hope you enjoyed the chapter. If so, please support it with a VOTE and don't be shy to comment and tell me what you think of it or how you think their talk is going to go.

Could Riley refuse Rhys if he finds out what the latter is?

Have a great time wattpading, everyone!