Lone Girl (The Wolfling Saga) (5 page)

“You and I both know that is reckless. I shouldn’t have even … yesterday morning. It was dangerous.”

“You wish we hadn’t?”

Tom shook his head quickly. “God, no. Not at all. I love it – of course I do.”

Tom and I hadn’t been pr
otected that night in the forest all those weeks ago, either. We’d been overcome with lust under the light of the full moon. Animal instinct, as Tom referred to it.

“Oh,” was all I said.

“Yeah,” his mouth twitched; an indication that he was uncomfortable with the topic. “It didn’t really cross my mind to get condoms while I was breaking out of jail.”

“Right.” 

“We didn’t have … you know … any that night, either,” he continued.

“I know,”
I said.

“I’ve
been thinking about it,” he said. “You’re not – I mean – you haven’t missed-?” he trailed off, his question hanging in the air.

“No,” I shook my head vigorously, my cheeks flushing pink. “I haven’t.”

Tom nodded, seemingly relieved. I wondered how long he’d been thinking about it. It was clearly an embarrassing subject for him to bring up. “Good,” he breathed.

“But not skipping a period
isn’t a solid indication that a woman
isn’t
pregnant. You should know that, you’re a teacher.”

“
I
was
an English teacher,” he frowned, putting emphasis on the past-tense. He seemed very uncomfortable with this topic of conversation.

“But to answer your question – No, I haven’t skipped a period
and I’m not-” I paused as Tom flinched. “
Really
, Tom?”

“What?”

“You’re a grown man,” I said, chuckling. “Surely you can bear to hear the word
period
without having a nervous breakdown?”

He too, smiled
. “Sorry.”

“I’
m not pregnant,” I finished my previous sentence.

“How can you be sure?” he asked.

“I was given a morning-after contraception pill at the hospital once they’d finished with the … rape kit-” I let the sentence die in my throat.

“Right,” he nodded, averting his gaze.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“Don’t be,” he said, reaching up and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “None of this is your fault.”

I sighed. “If only I had stay
put in that damned forest after I’d woken up. Then those campers wouldn’t have found me and none of this would have happened.” I was frustrated with myself and had been since the incident had occurred. I felt as though our entire predicament was my fault.

“You can’t blame yourself,” said Tom, snaking his arms around me and pulling me into an embrace.
“The important thing is we are together.”

“
Do you wish you were back home, still teaching? I asked. “Would you rather you hadn’t met me?”

“Rose,” Tom sighed and pulled away to look me in the eye. “For the last few years I’ve felt isolated because of my condition. I had no one to talk to
and no one that understood what I was going through. Then I met you and I felt as though the last piece of the puzzle had slid into place. You
fit
Rose. You fit with me.”

I exhaled a shaky breath
and nodded. Tom smiled and kissed my nose.

“My greatest fear is you coming to your senses and leaving me,” Tom admitted.

“Don’t be stupid,” I said.

Tom chuckled. “I can’t help it. Now … we really should sleep, sweetheart. We’ve got a long day of driving ahead of us.”

“Okay.” I pouted and crawled back into the passenger seat. Tom covered me with two jackets so I was nice and warm, despite being half naked. I curled up under them and lay back in the reclined car seat.

“Goodnight, Rose,” Tom said, leaning over and kissing me on the forehead. “Try to sleep, okay?”

“You too,” I said through an almighty yawn.

“I will,” he promised. “I love you.”

I felt my heart jump into my throat. The words sounded so natural when he said them.

“I love you too,” I replied.

And I did; more than anything.

We drove all day. I didn’t think the car would be able to handle such a journey, but it seemed to sense our desperation. However, the time came - as we knew it would – when the warning light began to flash and we had no choice but to stop and fill up on gas.

Tom handed me a twenty-dollar bill, a frown on his face. “This is all I’ve got left,” he said. “I doubt it will be enough.”

“I have a little money,” I replied, “In my bank-”

He shook his head. “You can’t use your bank card, darling.”

“Why not?”

“The police can trace it,” he said. “They’ll be on us like flies on horse-shit.”

“You watch too much television,” I said, unlatching the car-door and jumping out.

“You’ll thank me later,” Tom called through the open window.

“Maybe I should get some condoms while I’m in there,” I said, leaning back in through the window.

“Don’t tempt me, woman,” Tom chastised. I laughed and proceeded to the pump.

Tom popped the fuel cap and I put the twenty-dollars worth of gas into the car and went to pay. Chained to a newsstand out the front of the gas-station was a Staffordshire-terrier. The dog began to growl as I approached. I ignored it as it snapped at my heels, unable to reach because of the short chain. I could hear it barking outside as I went to pay for the gas.

The man who served me was young, perhaps twenty-one, with a lot of tattoo’s on his arms and a ring through his nose. He looked at me rather strangely as I approached the cash register.

“Hello,” I said, drumming my fingers nervously on the counter-top. “Uh, pump number three, please.”

The cashier chewed his gum slowly.

“Weird,” he said. “Toby usually loves everyone.”

I too, looked outside. The dog had its nose pressed against the glass, misting it with his heavy pants. It continued to growl/

“The dog?” I figured

“Yeah.”

“Well … dogs don’t like me,” I said plainly, tapping my foot.

The man looked out of the window at my red Ford Escort which idled by the third pump. Tom’s silhouette could be seen in the driver’s seat.

“That your car?” he asked in a long,
southern drawl.

“Erm … yeah,” I said, holding out the crumpled twenty-dollar bill.

The gas station attendant rang up the cost of the gas and took my money.

Perhaps I was being paranoid. Regardless, I hurried back to the car and jumped into the passenger seat. The dog went berserk as I passed him again.

“Done?” Tom asked.

“Yup, let’s get out of here,” I said, fastening my seat belt.

“Everything okay?” he asked and pulling away from the gas station.

“Yeah,” I said, ignoring the squirming sensation in my stomach. Maybe the guy at the gas station was just a creep. I probably shouldn’t think about it too much.

With a little fuel in the tank and clear skies ahead of us, Tom and I continued our journey in a north-westerly direction. I’d never left Halfway before, so I was excited as I watched the scenery whiz past. 

I was also nervous because we didn’t have a plan
and Tom hadn’t exactly explained
how
we were supposed to be getting to Alaska. Of course, my car was jam-packed full of my belongings, including my passport – but he had nothing of the sort and it would be impossible for him to cross the border without one.

We decided to travel north after my mother had told me about a ‘wolf-pack’ that resided in the state of Alaska; somewhere called the Silver Moon Forest.
It all sounded too good to be true; a community of werewolves, living together in secret? What a load of shit.

“So what’s the plan?” I asked, eager to change the subject.

“Plans are for men much smarter than I,” Tom replied, squinting at a sign that loomed ahead.

“We
need
a plan,” I said, putting my feet up on the dashboard.

“Get your feet down from there,” he scolded, swatting my leg.

“My car, remember?” I grinned. “And don’t change the subject.”

Tom chuckled and squeezed my knee. “How do you feel about boats?”

“I’ve never been on a boat,” I admitted. “Why? We can’t take a ferry. You don’t have a passport.”

“I wasn’t thinking of a ferry,” he said, scratching the stubble under his chin. “More like a fishing boat.”

“A
fishing
boat?” I repeated, pulling a face.

“Don’t you fancy a good old fashioned stow-away? I know I do,” he grinned, though I could see the desperation in his eyes.  Not only that, but he was tapping his foot rather rapidly, a classic sign of anxiety. I knew this because I did it too when in uncomfortable social situations.

I raised my eyebrows and leaned back, thinking fast. After a minute, I gave a tiny shrug. “Yeah … all right. A fishing boat. Why not?”

Looking at Tom I could see the desire to put as much distance between himself and Halfway. I hadn’t really stopped to consider the lengths he’d go to in order to escape arrest.

Tom sighed with relief as I agreed to his idea. “I think our best bet is to drive towards the west coast and –” he paused, his eyed wide.

“And what?” I said, glancing over at him.

Tom’s mouth hung open as he stared at something in the rear view mirror.

“What?” I said, removing my feet from the dashboard and sitting up. “What is it?”

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. “Shit, shit
shit
.”

I looked
into the side-view mirror and saw what had caused Tom such panic; a police vehicle was following us closely.

“Don’t panic,” I said, facing forwards again. “They’ll probably pass us. They haven’t put their lights on-”

The words had barely left my mouth when the red and blue lights on top of the police car began to reflect in Tom’s wide eyes.

“Christ, Rose. I’m so sorry,” said Tom, covering his mouth with his hand. “What should I do?”

“It’s all right,” I said, my heart rate increasing rapidly. “It’s probably just a random stop. Maybe we’ve got a broken taillight, or, or-” I paused, thinking of the man at the gas station who had acted so strangely. 

“
Shit,” Tom muttered, looking over his shoulder at the police car, which had begun to flash its headlights.

“
Pull over, Tom. It’s going to be fine.” I wasn’t sure if I was trying to reassure him, or myself. 

Tom did as I asked and pulled the car over on the side of the road, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Don’t panic,” I whispered as the police car pulled up behind us. “Just act natural.”

Tom took a deep, steadying breath and nodded vigorously.

“Let’s swap seats,” I said quickly.

“What?”

“You don’t have your license,” I muttered. “Slide over.”

“They’ll see!” he gasped.

“They won’t. My belongings are obscuring the back window,” I reassured. It was true. Bags and boxes were piled high in the back seat so no one could see in or out.

Behind us, the car door of the police vehicle slammed as the
officer got out and approached our car.

“Pretend to be asleep or something,” I said to Tom moments before the officer rapped his knuckles smartly upon the driver’s window.

I quickly unwound the window, a polite smile on my face. He’d be a fool if he didn’t see that I was flushed and out of breath.

“Hello
,” I said, throwing him a smile. I’d never been pulled over before and wasn’t sure what the protocol was. Would it be suspicious if I acted too happy or pleased to meet the officer?

To my side, Tom feigned slumber.

“Evening,” he said, peering in through the window.  “License please Ma’am.”

“Sure,” I said, fumbling around in my back-pack for my wallet and handing it to him with shaking hands.

It’s just a random stop
, I told myself.
Maybe Tom forgot to indicate … or maybe we’ve got a broken taillight.

“Is this your vehicle, Ma’am?” asked the officer, handing my license back to me.

“Yes,” I said, a little too quickly. “Of course.”

The officer peered past me and looked at Tom, whose head lolled to the side as though he was fast asleep. He was quite the actor.

“He all right?” asked the officer.

“What? Oh, yeah,” I glanced at Tom, before looking back at the policeman. “Just sleeping. Long
drive.”

The police officer straightened up and looked at his notepad. “Do you know why I asked you to stop today, ma’am?”