Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Riot

I lie there watching Raura as the gray morning light filters through the thin motel curtains. She’s a flurry of activity, packing our few belongings into the duffel bag she found in the truck. Her movements are quick and efficient, but there’s a lightness to them that makes me smile.

“We should head north,” she says, glancing over her shoulder at me with a grin. “I hear Canada is balmy this time of year.”

Her joke draws a low chuckle from me. “Compared to this, I’d bet it’s practically tropical,” I joke back, pulling a wry face at where flurries of snow drift past the window.

She amazes me.

After everything we’ve been through, her ability to find humor in our situation is refreshing. Like a cool breeze blowing away the dark clouds that have hung over me for so long.

I allow myself to bask in this rare moment of lightness, pushing aside the nagging worries that have become constant companions. For just a few precious minutes, I let myself imagine that we’re a normal couple preparing for a road trip, not two fugitives on the run.

Raura’s voice breaks through my reverie. “You ready to hit the road, tough guy?” She’s standing beside the bed now, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and concern.

The lightness fades as quickly as it came. I nod, forcing a smile. “Yeah, we should get moving.”

As much as I crave these moments with her, I know they can’t last. The harsh reality of our situation is unavoidable. We’re not out of danger yet, not by a long shot.

“We’ll need to ditch this truck soon,” I say, pushing myself up into a sitting position. The wound in my leg twinges, but the pain is almost gone. If it wasn’t for the traces of silver, it would probably have healed completely by now – faster than normal for me, but I’m not complaining. “They’ll be looking for it,” I add.

Raura’s expression sobers, but she gives a determined nod. “Then let’s get going. The sooner we put some distance between us and this place, the better.”

We leave the room, and the door closes with a sense of finality.

I feel a slight pang as we leave it all behind. This shabby little space had been our sanctuary for one night – the first time in a decade I’d experienced true intimacy with another person. The memory of Raura’s body against mine, our frantic joining, warms me even as the chill mountain air bites at my skin.

Get a grip, dammit!

I steel myself and follow her to the battered pickup truck parked right outside our door. She’s all business now, her eyes scanning our surroundings warily as she unlocks the driver’s side. I can’t blame her vigilance. After our desperate escape from the Enclave, we can’t afford to let our guard down for even a moment.

Still, I find myself sneaking one last glance back at the motel room. Part of me wants to cling to the peace and connection I found there with Raura, however fleeting it may have been. But I know that’s impossible now. We have to keep moving, have to put as much space between us and Parker as we can.

“I’ll drive,” I say as she begins to move toward the driver’s seat.

She raises an eyebrow. “Suit yourself,” she says, tossing me the keys.

I get behind the wheel, my hands grasping the worn leather as a warm sense of familiarity washes over me when the engine rumbles to life. The memory of driving was one of the small pleasures I clung to about my old world – those moments when the open road stretched out before me.

Raura settles into the passenger seat beside me, her movements graceful and easy despite the cramped cab. “You’re a good driver,” she observes as I guide us smoothly out onto the highway and then merge into a lane.

“A bit rusty.” A faint smile curls my lips. “I used to enjoy it,” I admit, keeping my eyes focused on the road ahead. “When I was free.”

The words hang heavy in the air between us for a time, the road clear at this time of day, aside from the occasional long-distance hauler. Then her hand finds mine where it rests on the gearshift. Our fingers intertwine, and I glance over at her. Her eyes are on me, soft and gentle, and I can almost believe that everything will be alright.

Almost.

“What?” I ask her when she keeps staring at me.

“This…feels…” She pinches her lips together. “This feels kind of…nice? Does that sound crazy? I mean…sure, we’re on the run for our lives from a psycho. But aside from that…I’m happy.”

I chuckle. “I’m happy, too.”

“Does that make us nuts?”

“Little bit.” I grin. “But it’s a good kind of nuts.”

She’s quiet for a while, seemingly mulling this over, then breaks the silence again. “Tell me about your life before…you know…” She doesn’t need to finish the sentence; we both know what she’s asking.

I take a deep breath, memories I’ve kept locked away for so long rising to the surface. “Not much to tell, really. You’d probably be bored.”

“Try me.” She squeezes my fingers. “Were you always a fighter?”

I shake my head. “I was the son of our pack’s Alpha,” I begin slowly. “Being groomed to take over one day. But that life…it wasn’t for me. I always wanted to be a healer.”

Raura is quiet, listening intently as I speak about my childhood – long days spent trailing after the pack’s medicine woman, learning the secrets of herb lore and healing. How I loved the quiet power of mending wounds and curing ills more than the showmanship of leadership.

“And yet Parker made you fight. When they took you.” She looks at me. “Why?”

“I was good at it.” I shrug. “I had the skills I’d learned when my father schooled me to take his place. They’d always come naturally…like breathing. Plus, I’m big, I guess. Fast, too. Especially as my wolf. When they tried to abduct me, it took an army of them to bring me down. Parker saw potential.”

“Bastard. I hope he rots.”

“He’s already rotten. In his fucking soul.” My lip curls. “Anyway, if I’d had a choice, I’d be healing people now.”

“I can imagine that,” she says softly. “You’d be a good doctor.”

I flash a look down at where her thumb is stroking over my knuckles on the gearshift. Knuckles that are scarred and callused from years of violence.

“Maybe not.” My voice is husky.

“You would,” she says firmly. “You’re a good man, Riot. I could tell right from the start.”

“Oh, you could, could you?” I try to lighten the mood. “And there I thought you were checking me out.”

“That, too.” She giggles. “You’re pretty hot, you know. If I could pick anyone I’d like to be locked up and tortured with, it would be you.”

“Good to know.” I’d tell her the same thing, except I can’t find it in myself to make jokes about being behind bars again.

“Go on…you were telling me about growing up. Tell me about your sister. You loved her a lot?”

“Still do.” My voice catches, and I clear my throat. “Willow was just a pup when they took me. She’s grown into a woman now. A mother. She has a mate and a little boy.” I think back to her bright smile and boundless energy. “Her son has her eyes.” I only know this because of the pictures Parker trickle-fed me. I’d do anything to meet my family in the flesh. I stop speaking, and Raura gives my hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance as I fight back the tightness in my throat.

“She must mean so much to you,” she murmurs, her voice soft with sympathy. “I can’t imagine…”

I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak for a moment. Willow was my light in those dark days of captivity – the reason I kept fighting, kept holding onto whatever shreds of myself I could. Knowing she was out there, living her life, gave me strength.

But now? Now that Parker has a reason to use her against me… I can’t allow myself to think about what might happen.

A faded sign up ahead gives me a reprieve from my train of thought. “There’s a truck stop coming up.” I’m grateful to change the subject. “I think we should pull over to refuel. Maybe get something to eat.”

“Good idea.” Raura nods. “I could eat a horse!”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” I wink at her as I change lanes and take the slip road leading to the small gas station and diner.

I park the truck around the back of the diner, hoping to keep it out of sight for now. The parking bay doesn’t offer much in the way of concealment, but it’s better than leaving it exposed right out front.

The smell of greasy food hits me as soon as we step through the doors. It’s not an unpleasant scent, just…different from what I’m used to. A reminder that this world beyond my captivity is still so unfamiliar.

We find a booth toward the back and slide in across from each other. Raura grabs a laminated menu, her eyes roving over the offerings with an almost childlike enthusiasm that makes me smile.

“What looks good?” she asks, glancing up at me.

“Anything, honestly.” It’s been so long since I had a real meal, not just the mounds of meat they provided at the Enclave. “You order for me.”

She gives me a sly grin. “You sure about that? Could be risky, putting your breakfast in my hands.”

“I’ll take my chances,” I deadpan, trying not to let the way her smile makes my heart skip a beat show on my face.

True to her word, she orders enough food to feed a small army when the waitress swings by. As we wait for our plates, I find myself staring at the large map mounted on the wall beside us. Raura notices me studying it and scoots around the booth to join me.

“Looks like we’ve passed Charleston,” she murmurs, leaning in close so I can smell the soft floral scent of her hair. “So the Enclave must be…” She traces a path back with her finger. “Maybe fifty miles or so that way? We couldn’t travel too long in your condition when we left.”

I nod grimly. Still far too close for comfort. My gaze follows the highway routes further east, toward a cluster of small towns near the shore of one of the Great Lakes.

“That’s where Steel Lakes is,” Raura says, pointing to a spot labeled Tamarack Falls. “An abandoned mining town the pack moved into years ago after the humans left. It’s a couple of hours away from Detroit, but…we could make it there by nightfall if we push it.”

Steel Lakes…her pack.

She’ll be safe.

“Yes,” I say, my throat tight. “We could do that.”

“You’re going to love it there! I can’t wait for you to meet everyone.” Her eyes are shining. “And we’ll be able to help Willow,” she says eagerly. “Get her away from Parker before he can retaliate.” Raura meets my eyes, her expression fierce and determined. “I promise you, Riot…we’ll save Willow. Whatever it takes.”

The intensity in her voice, the utter certainty…it’s enough to make me want to believe her wholeheartedly. To let that flicker of hope I’ve smothered for so long burn a little brighter in my chest.

“Then let’s get moving,” I tell her, standing and leaving a handful of crumpled bills on the table. “If we hit the road now—” I stop and frown as something beyond the smeared window catches my attention.

There’s a pair of men standing beside the pickup. They’re looking it over. Their scrutiny sets my teeth on edge, my muscles instinctively tensing.

Fuck.

Raura must sense my unease. “What’s wrong?” she asks in a low murmur.

I jerk my chin toward the window. “Those two are awfully interested in our ride.”

Her gaze flicks to the pair loitering by the truck, hands shoved deep in their jacket pockets against the chill mountain air. One of them circles the vehicle slowly, examining the bodywork.

My heart sinks at the realization that our flight may already be at an end. We’d made it this far; to be run to ground now just seems so fucking unfair.

The men head into the diner, and I go rigid, coiled tight as a spring. My hand finds Raura’s, giving it a warning squeeze. Her eyes meet mine, wide and alert, and she gives a small nod.

We remain unobtrusive as the pair approach the counter, trying our best to blend into the background. My gaze tracks them warily as they lean in close to the waitress, speaking in low, hushed tones. The woman’s expression remains impassive, but she keeps glancing in our direction with a frown.

Shit. They’re onto us.

Raura must realize it, too, because she slips out of the booth without a word, her movements slow and casual. I follow suit, fighting to keep my breathing even as we make our way toward the exit. Every instinct is screaming at me to run, but I force myself to maintain an unhurried pace.

The bell above the door jingles as we step outside. I chance a glance back over my shoulder to see the two men still engaged in conversation with the waitress. For now, at least, it seems they haven’t made us.

We break into a sprint the second the diner’s door swings shut behind us, bolting for the pickup. I yank open the driver’s side door and throw myself behind the wheel.

Raura scrambles in beside me, chest heaving. “Go, go!”

I don’t need to be told twice. The engine roars to life, and I slam the truck into drive, tires squealing as we tear out of the parking lot. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, I think we’re in the clear.

Then Raura sucks in a sharp breath beside me. “Riot…”

I follow her gaze in the rearview mirror to see a large black SUV pulling out behind us, quickly closing the gap between us.

“Hang on,” I growl, stamping on the accelerator.

The pickup bucks beneath us, the force of our acceleration slamming us back into the worn bench seat. I whip the steering wheel back and forth, taking the twists and turns of the mountain road at reckless speeds, but the SUV stays glued to our tail, implacable.

“They’re gaining on us!” Raura’s voice is tight with fear.

I grit my teeth, fighting to maintain control as we careen around a hairpin bend, the truck’s ancient shocks protesting. A quick glance in the side mirror confirms that our pursuers have closed the gap, the SUV’s dark bulk looming large in my view.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK!

We can’t outrun them. Not in this junker with its rusted-out chassis and bald tires. We’re sitting ducks out here on these lonely back roads.

I downshift, the transmission whining in protest as I fight the steering wheel for control. Up ahead, the road splits – one fork leading deeper into the mountains, the other angling back toward the highway we’d left behind.

“Get ready to jump!” I bark at Raura.

She shoots me a wide-eyed look of disbelief, but I don’t give her a chance to argue. Hunching over the wheel, I swing the truck sharply to the right, whipping us onto the road that snakes back toward civilization.

The SUV follows, its engine growling as it powers around the turn after us. It’s closing the gap easily – hardly surprising since their vehicle outclasses us by actual miles. In a matter of seconds, they’re going to be on us.

There’s only one thing left to do.

With a growl, I wrench the wheel hard to the left, standing on the brakes and cranking the emergency brake up in one savage motion. The truck spins in a spray of dirt and gravel, the centrifugal force wrenching the driver’s side door open with a tortured shriek of metal. I steel myself for what has to happen next because I have no doubt about our last course of action.

If we can’t outrun them, we’ll just have to face them down.