The Rogue and Her Mate

Five

A shriek escapes my lips, as I'm hoisted forward. I hit the steering wheel, sounding the horn. I glare around the chair, finding Haden wriggling himself up on the seat, glaring right back. I try to readjust the seat, but it won't move. I beat my head against the rest a few times before awkwardly climbing over the center consult to the passenger side.

I notice Haden looking at me as my heavy lids flutter but am too tired to turn away from him. Maybe I don't want to.

As we drive into the next town, I consider my funds. They're dangerously low. But what kind of work can I do with a tag along? I pull over, fishing through my bag for any loose bills, coming across my mother's anxiety medication. Mom had panic attacks, she once confided in me, were brought on from her time in pack with my father. They'd been married young, and he'd been abusive. No one would help her, so when she found out she was pregnant, she ran.

I count out the pills and slip them in my pocket. I can sell them; I just have to find the right clientele. I locates a high school and loiters in the parking lot inconspicuously as students come out. That's when I see him. The try- hard. Clearly a nerd but desperately clad in name brands while hauling an overstuffed backpack. A white boy with a fade.

I pull down my hair, fixing it around my shoulders and adjusts my tank top I've donned for the occasion. I know I'm not the prettiest girl in the world, but I don't have to be. I just have to have boobs and talk to him. Not even big boobs.

"Hey." I greet in my sweetest voice, smiling while letting my big brown eyes do their job.

"Hey." He replies with a nervous laugh, looking around as if I may be talking to someone else.

"Do you want to buy some Xanax?" I ask, perhaps a little tactless. "It makes you feel so great." I claim breathily, running my hand down my chest briefly.

He follows the movement, blushing a little.

"Um, sure. How much?" He asks, trying to sound casual.

"Five hundred for fifty." I answer.

His eyes bulge at my response, but he covers it by nodding as if that's reasonable. "Alright." He replies, pulling out his wallet. I can't believe my luck. I grab the bottle from my pocket, ready to hand it over.

"I'll take ten, that's a hundred, right?" He holds out a hundred-dollar bill.

I freeze for a moment. "Oh no, Hun. That's the wholesale price, two hundred for ten." I answer as cool as a cucumber, pushing my luck.

"Oh, okay. Um, I'll do five then." He replies.

I curse internally, desperate for that hundred at this point. "Okay." I agree, holding my composure for the most part as I count out five pills, handing them over and, taking the 100-dollar bill.

I made off like a bandit, but five hundred dollars would be really nice right now. I lean against the Jeep, kicking the tire in frustration.

"Hey, you have Xanax?" A young guy with curly hair asks. My head snaps up, a brilliant smile in place.

"I sure do, Hun." I reply. "How many?"

"I'll take ten." He answers, holding out two hundred dollars.

Kid after kid approaches until I've sold all the pills, my pocket fat with a thousand dollars.

I hop in the driver's seat, giddy with how well my plan worked.

"What the fuck was that?" Haden grits out from the back seat.

I stiffen at his hostility before rolling my eyes and shoulders. "That was me being a business genius." I reply, just as hostile, while pulling out of the parking lot before a teacher hears word of my little after school business.

"That was you being a slut to sell drugs to teenagers for a few dollars." Haden counters with a snarl.

I can't completely deny what he's saying, though I certainly wouldn't put it like that. "One, Haden," I begin disdainfully, "don't slut shame me, two a thousand is not a few dollars, you bougie, elitist pack wolf."

Haden just growls and I just ignore him. I drive for the rest of the day and night. To celebrate, I get a motel to sleep in for the day. I note a sturdy looking bar in the bathroom. Maybe I'll tie Mr. Elitist Pig there while I go out to find a job tomorrow.

"I need a shower." Haden demands, waddling out of the bathroom.

"Then take one." I respond, flipping through channels.

"I can't shower with my clothes on. That's not a shower." He insists.

"Well Hun, you're going to have to."

"Don't call me that." He barks.

I finally look at him. His eyes are glowing emerald- green, his skin crawling. Black fur erupts, bones crunch, a wolf erupting where Haden once stood. 

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