As I answered the phone, I felt my eyelids drooping with exhaustion after a long, tiring PR job at the bakery. The scent of freshly baked bread still clung to every fiber of my clothes, a reminder of the long hours I had spent amidst the flour and yeast. All I wanted was a week of complete relaxation, free from the stress and chaos of work.
But as always, Bran had orchestrated the gig, leaving me to run the entire bakery practically on my own. It was a daunting task, and I didn't think I could handle it anymore. Don't get me wrong—I enjoy cooking and baking, but not as a full-time profession, especially not on such a grand scale. The pressure was mounting, and I desperately needed a break.
Reluctantly, I picked up the phone and saw Bran's name displayed on the screen. "Mimi," I sighed, "what do you want, Bran? The gig's over, and I'm desperate for some time off."
Bran grunted and replied, "Good job, little girl. But why don't you come down here to Missouri? I have some information about medical facilities that I'd like to go over with you."
I let out another sigh, realizing that my plans for a break were quickly fading away. "Fine, okay. I'll head there. Depending on traffic, it'll probably take me 13 to 16 hours."
Bran reassured me, "Don't worry, Charles will pick you up. You won't have to drive."
Curiosity piqued, I asked, "When's the pick-up?"
There was a brief pause before Bran answered, "Half an hour, alright?"
"Okay, I'm ready. Just packing some stuff," I replied, and Bran hung up.
I hurriedly packed my bags, preparing for the possibility of running errands or gigs along the way. Deep down, I hoped that the information Bran had would bring some much-needed publicity to our endeavors in torture and medical experiments.
As I climbed into Charles's spacious SUV, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the comfortable ride. The familiar smell of leather filled the air, and the quiet hum of the engine soothed me. As we drove, my eyes wandered to the scenery outside. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow over the buildings and trees. It was a beautiful sight that contrasted with the exhaustion and anticipation that filled the air.
As we chatted about the recent gig, Charles's voice was calm and steady. He spoke with confidence and knowledge about the intricacies of dealing with the challenges we faced. We were disappointed that none of the five candidates we had considered were interested in participating in public rescue projects. And to add to the frustration, I was again offered money, this time by a medical corporation. But Charles assured me that Magnum had a plan in place to handle such situations.
As we continued to talk, I couldn't help but be impressed by Charles's expertise. He shared with me his conversations with Jake and Rob, along with the new protocols and equipment developed by Magnum and Murdock. His knowledge and experience were clear, and I felt grateful to have an experienced werewolf like him in our organization.
Whether it was inventing a bullet that killed faster or improving armor without adding weight, Charles knew exactly what was necessary to make a difference in our line of work.
Charles was a funny and entertaining individual, particularly when I discussed various scenarios based on the country we were in. As I shared Europe's different locations and vulnerabilities with him, his clever mind sparked with multiple good ideas. Our laughter reverberated throughout the car, creating a sense of camaraderie and friendship. Charles' eyes sparkled with excitement as he expressed his deep desire to visit Europe and use his skills to their fullest potential.
In an unexpected revelation, Charles admitted he had been involved with all of my hackers. His charming and flirtatious behavior reminded me of Magnum, exuding a clear dominance and a hint of danger. As I made him smile a couple of times, I could see that some women must have been captivated by him, their fascination intensifying. His entire face transformed, radiating joy and charm.
As we arrived at our destination, I snatched my bag and strode inside, feeling confident and determined. Charles bid me farewell, and his car disappeared around the corner, leaving me alone to face what lay ahead. As I entered the building, a mixture of anticipation and nervousness filled my senses.
Inside, Bran greeted me with a warm and welcoming smile and asked about our journey. The room was filled with a sense of urgency and intensity as he explained his need for contact details. The air buzzed with tension and frustration as he described his struggles to connect with the right people. He appeared exhausted and depleted, and his voice was pleading for help.
Bran looked at me and said, "Did you have a pleasant drive? Come on, I need contact details for some of these things. I need to talk to some of these people, and as these numbers are not public and are not available through normal channels, I could get nowhere. I've just been passed around from department to department, from petty official to petty official, and no one seems to want to talk to me, so I would appreciate it if you could help. "
Realizing the true reason for my presence here, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of annoyance and weariness. I had already explained to Bran countless times that most of my contacts preferred to work only through me. This had become a recurring issue, and I had hoped he would have moved past this obsession. But wasn't the case.
Bran had made some contacts of his own, but he still sought more through my network. Trying to maintain my patience despite my exhaustion, I mustered a sigh and addressed Bran. I emphasized I had already reached out to these people on his behalf, only to be rejected. I pleaded with him not to rehash this issue, as it was draining me mentally and emotionally.
I sighed and said, "Bran, you know I've told and called these people. They don't want to deal with you when it's me. Please don't start that again. I can't take it anymore. Did you have any information to go through, or was this just a way to get me to come here and talk about my contacts? I am exhausted, but let's review it if you have some information. "
I offered a compromise, suggesting we could go through it together if he had any new information. The weariness in my voice was palpable, reflecting my longing for some respite.
Bran clenched his jaw, the muscles in his temples twitching. The sound of his voice was filled with tension as he demanded, "Mimi, hand over the contacts now, or there will be consequences. Believe me, little girl, I will get the contacts, whether you like it or not. This is not up for negotiation, and I won't share my information while you exclude me. I've dealt with more stubborn individuals than you, and I'll make sure you learn to respect me. Unfortunately, it seems I have no other choice but to do this the hard way."
Taking a few threatening steps towards me, Bran tried to intimidate me. However, I stood my ground, maintaining eye contact and taking a deep breath. The atmosphere in the house grew tense, transforming the once cozy and peaceful home into a battleground.
Calmly, I suggested, "Let's sit down for dinner and discuss this. We can assess who you're trying to reach and find someone more suitable to handle the situation. If necessary, I can call them again, and you can hear their response for yourself. But for now, I need to eat. Could you please step aside?"
Bran let out a sigh, visibly relaxing a bit, and agreed, "Fine. Let's eat and see who I can contact. It would greatly help with the legal matters. That law needs to be abolished or at least amended. We're not animals."
His voice was deceptively gentle, leaving me unsure about his true intentions. Nonetheless, the need for food compelled me to proceed. This pack's house seemed like a good place to find sustenance if only Bran hadn't eaten all the food I desired.
As we walked into the kitchen, I couldn't help but appreciate the charming country-style setup. The large refrigerators and freezers were impressive, and I knew they would come in handy. We were both hungry, and it was time to eat. I opened the fridge, hoping to find some leftovers prepared by Damon. After scanning the contents, I spotted some meat in the freezer, and I decided to warm up a generous portion of side dishes from the fridge.
Meanwhile, Bran took charge of arranging drinks and sandwiches on the table. I quickly thawed up a batch of curd bread made with nut flour, a suitable option for my dietary needs. With my dish in the oven, I readied the coffee maker, anticipating a hot cup once I finished eating. The aroma of fresh coffee filled the air, and I couldn't wait to take a sip.
As we sat down to eat, Bran served himself some food meant for the pack, not for me. The meal passed in silence as we both focused on our respective plates. The food was delicious, and I savored every bite. However, as I finished my meal, a sense of dread washed over me. It was a feeling that I knew all too well. "Not again," I thought, as the room blurred, and double images danced before my eyes. The world around me became hazy and indistinct, and I knew I was in trouble.
Bran's calm voice resonated through the room, sending chills down my spine. I could feel his frustration and anger simmering just beneath the surface. "I told you, you leave me no choice," he said, his eyes locked onto mine. "Fine. Yes, you will give me those contacts, but there will be consequences for your disobedience."
As his words sank in, my mind went blank, and my consciousness blurred. The world around me seemed to spin, and I slowly slumped off the hard wooden chair, landing on the plush rug beneath me. I could feel the softness of the rug against my cheek, its fibers tickling my skin.
Through my hazy vision, I caught a glimpse of Bran's feet. He was wearing a pair of black boots, polished to a high shine. His feet seemed so far away from me, and suddenly, I was lifted into his arms. The weightlessness washed over me, and I felt like I was floating. I could smell his cologne, a mixture of musk and sandalwood, and it was intoxicating.
Bran's arms were powerful and he held me close to his chest as he carried me out of the room. I could hear his footsteps echoing through the hallway, and I knew I was in trouble. The consequences of my disobedience were going to be severe, and I didn't know how I was going to handle them, and then everything faded into darkness.