Maddie found herself alone at the old laundromat. She hadn’t wanted to come, but a brownout at her apartment due to the snowstorm left her little choice. She probably should have stayed home, but she needed warmth, something the laundromat offered in abundance.
Having the place to herself felt like a silver lining. She wandered over to the little library of paperbacks left for anyone to take. Her heart skipped when she spotted a copy of Local Woman Missing. She couldn’t believe her luck—she’d been wanting to read it. Slipping the book into her bag, she resolved to start reading it once her laundry was going.
As she slotted quarters into the machine, another discovery caught her attention—the food pantry. She’d never really noticed it before. Her eyes landed on an unusual sight: canned water. It was the first time she’d ever seen such a thing.
“Is that even real?” a voice asked from behind her, startling her. Maddie had been sure she was alone. Her shoulders stiffened as she turned slightly, her solitude abruptly interrupted. A man stood there, towering over her. She suddenly felt so small.
She glanced down at her damp sneakers, her old leggings peeking out from beneath an oversized sweater. She felt underdressed. Why hadn’t she worn a bra?
“W-well, it... it has something in it,” she stammered, holding up the can. She handed it to him, avoiding eye contact. He examined the artwork on the label.
“I’m Logan,” he said casually, shrugging. “I live a few doors down. My bathroom light’s on, but the rest of my place is dark.”
Reluctantly, Maddie found herself relaxing a little. His smile was unassuming, his face ordinary.
“I’m Maddie,” she replied.
There were two cans of something called Van’s Warped Tour Water. Logan handed her one, and they opened the cans simultaneously.
“Hey, this is a Monster drink,” Logan chuckled, taking a sip.
Maddie examined her can. It claimed to be made from “Deep Well Water.”
“It’s really just water,” he added, amused.
Leaning against a washing machine, Logan’s lanky frame looked vaguely familiar. Maddie frowned slightly, realizing she only heard her own machine running. Where were his clothes? She decided not to ask and played it cool, though a part of her mind rehearsed escape scenarios. Could she knee him in the side or kick his stomach if she needed to?
Her bag was within reach, but her car keys weren’t in her pocket. She sighed, taking a sip from her can.
“What’re you thinking about?” Logan asked, hopping up to sit on top of a washing machine.
“Oh, just... this must’ve been what all those punk rock bands were drinking backstage during the Warped Tour,” she quipped with a quick smile, trying to mask her unease.
“You into punk rock?” he asked with a grin and the hint of a wink.
Maddie shook her head. “Not really.”
“As long as it’s not country,” he joked, as if reminiscing about something. He took another sip, seemingly at ease.
But Maddie couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. It wasn’t just his relaxed demeanor or his casual outfit—a loose shirt over a white tank top, no coat despite the weather. No, her discomfort ran deeper, dredging up memories from her freshman year at UNO. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she fought to stay composed.
Her face remained guarded, her lips a thin, straight line. She didn’t want to relive those unsettling moments, the ones that made her feel so powerless. Everyone always said she looked younger than her age, even now in her late twenties. That was probably it—they thought she was an easy target.
Logan’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. She hadn’t caught what he said. She blinked, unsure how to respond.
He jumped down from the washing machine, closing the distance between them. Maddie turned away, her instincts screaming at her to keep her guard up.
“Huh?” she muttered, her voice tight.
Logan leaned closer, his grin almost playful. She flinched slightly when his arm moved past her, freezing as she glimpsed a familiar mark on his wrist. Bite marks.
The room felt suffocating, the warmth she had sought now oppressive. Maddie’s instincts roared to life. She hadn’t gotten a good look at his face before, not then. But they weren’t kids anymore. They weren’t pups.
Maybe now, they were wolves.
