The End of Never by Tammy Turner

Pushing off with her one good ankle, she flew at her stepmother. Krystal rocked back on her heels as Taylor clenched her right fist tight, as hard as a rock, and jabbed at the woman’s nose.
    Blood dripped down Krystal’s skimpy robe as tears of pain and anger welled in her eyes. “You’re going to pay for that,” she threatened as the policeman jumped between the two women.
    Coincidentally, at that moment, in an icy hotel conference room in Miami Beach, Jim Woodward thought of calling home to check in on his girls. He decided not to, reasoning that they couldn’t have gotten into much trouble. He tapped his ballpoint pen on the laminate table top. Then again, he considered, maybe he should call at the next break. Twisting restlessly in the hard, plastic chair, Jim felt a sweat break out underneath his collar.
    At Fifty Sawyer Lane, Taylor squished her long legs into the back of a black Atlanta police car as Benjamin handed a pair of crutches to the mustached police officer. “Call Alexandra!” Taylor shouted at him as the officer shut the door on her face.
    Krystal sneered at her stepdaughter from behind the glass window of the oak front door.
    â€œThat’s what you get for messing with the Onion Queen,” she hissed.

6

Confessions
    A shy grin tugged at the corners of Alexandra’s puckered mouth. At first she thought she and Kraven were lucky to be alive, but then she decided that luck had nothing to do with it. We saved each other , she mused.
    The beautiful stranger at her side held his arm around her lean hips while she matched him, stride for stride, to the city park across the street from her apartment building. Her bulldog, Jack, raced ahead of the pair, down the cement pathway, his stubby legs pounding furiously to get at a squawking pigeon picking bread crumbs by a trash can.
    Stalking his territory, a brown-and-black mutt with the slim build and sharp teeth of a wild fox growled at the passing couple as they followed Jack toward a playground. The stray dog wanted them to know the trash can belonged to him and he snapped at the approach of the intruders.
    Kraven kept his eyes on the dog, but Alexandra did not see the low, snarling beast until he growled. Jack’s head snapped away from the pigeon as the bird soared into the air. With his head down, he started to charge the mutt, as if a mighty ram to the stomach would teach the dog not to mess with his lady.
    Pulling Alexandra’s hips close, Kraven shielded her behind his body. His blue eyes met the black eyes of the growling mutt. Whimpering, the frightened animal retreated swiftly from the girl and her bodyguard toward a grove of trees a hundred yards down the pathway.
    Alexandra’s heart raced. The shapeshifter locked in Callahan’s attic was wounded, possibly mortally. She breathed in and out deeply. I am safe, she thought to herself, for now. The old man cannot turn into a wolf while he is injured. That’s what Callahan promised. And even if he does heal, I’ll be more than happy to remind him that the only reason he is alive is because he’s more useful to me alive than dead. I’ve got questions—lots of questions—and it is time I got some answers.
    Alexandra tucked her long brown bangs behind her ears and whispered to Kraven. “Sit with me,” she said softly and nudged him toward a soft spot of grass beside the playground. She glanced at the metal swing set and yellow plastic slide looming over the ground. I’m not too old , she thought. A small boy with shaggy, pumpkin-colored hair giggled as he swung toward the blue sky. Sitting on a bench nearby, his mother clapped and beamed.
    What once was lost now is found. The weight of secrecy dropped Alexandra to the ground, her body reclining backward in the grass. Staring up to the cloudless sky, she felt a ticklish tingle in her toes as a wet tongue lapped her feet.
    â€œStop it, Jack,” she said, sitting up as