I take out a small phone from my pocket. It’s an old Nokia, not one of those fancy smartphones they’ve got nowadays. Only Zarael wanted one and after a huge discussion, we all agreed to let him have it. It doesn't serve him much, though. There’s barely any reception here. Most of the time you can only get it from a nearby hill. Sometimes, from our shacks, too. Internet is non-existent. Not like we’d be using it for much anyway. That’s just not how we roll. Shifter bikers aren’t nerds. We don’t have our noses buried in phones, or books for that matter, despite what Theron or Zarael will have you believe. It’s the wind in your hair, the sound of the revving machine, the smell of the burning highway underneath your tires.
“Do you know the number?” I ask her, wondering what she’d look like on the back of my motorcycle, her luscious brown curls flying in the wind, her palms pressing against my six pack, maybe even lower if the moment overtakes us.
She extends her hand and I put the phone in it. Her hand is small, but her fingers long. There are a few scratches on her skin. It is almost translucent, with occasional patches of redness. Her fingers are elongated, elegant and there is no jewelry decorating them. I wonder if those guys took it from her, or she just doesn’t like to wear it. For a moment, I imagine her moon-like skin covered in our clan’s warpaint, as she chants around the fire at night. The sight makes me hard, my cock jumping in my pants and I adjust myself a little, trying to hide it. There couldn’t be a more wrong moment for me to get a hard on. But I can’t help it. I never could.
She uses her trembling finger to type in a number and then hands me back the phone.
“I’ll call and say what we agreed, OK?” I tell her. “I’ll put it on speakerphone, so you can hear her, too.”
I immediately dial the number and watch as her eyes follow closely what’s happening on the screen. It rings twice and a female voice answers.
“Yes?” the voice says.
“Is this Rosa McCormick?” I speak slowly, making sure to speak closely to the phone.
“Yes?”
“Good day, ma’am, my name is Dexis Reynolds and I’m calling in regards to your daughter, Isabel.”
“Isabel?” A mother’s voice is unmistakable. For a moment, I try to remember my mother’s voice, but it is only a faint memory. “What happened to her? Where is she!?”
“She is fine,” I speak calmly and I can tell how heartbroken Isabel is that she can’t talk to her mother. “She’s had a bit of an accident and - “
“Accident!?” the woman screams and I have to pull away a little. “I need to talk to her now!”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, she can’t really talk right now, but I’m - “
“Why can’t she talk!?” she interrupts me again and I have to take a deep breath, not to shout back. I’m trying to explain what happened and she keeps preventing me.
“Mom… I’m… hine…” I hear Isabel trying to say she’s fine, but I doubt her mother heard much.
“Is that her!?” the lady screams even louder.
“She hurt her jaw,” I explain, realizing that I need to talk to her like I’d talk to a child. Short sentences, to the point. “So, she can’t talk properly. We’re taking good care of her.”
“Is she in a hospital?”
I glance over at Isabel, waiting for instructions. I don’t want to lie, unless she tells me to. I know exactly how badly it can backfire. It takes her only a second to nod.
“Yes,” I say quickly. “And well taken care of.”
“Where is this hospital? Can we come see her?” She doesn’t sound upset any longer. She is worried, she is hopeful. She is a loving mother.
“Unfortunately, we’re up in the mountains and I’m afraid you can’t get up here by car. And, I don?
?t recommend walking through these woods without a guide who knows the place.”
“The mountains?” she replies, in shock. “What was she doing there!?”
“You’ll have to ask your daughter that later on.”
“I really don’t understand…”
“You can save this number and feel free to call at any point to ask about Isabel. I’ll be happy to tell you how she’s doing. And, when she feels well enough to talk, she’ll give you a call.”
“Alright. Are you the doctor?”
“I run this place,” I grin at the word play.