Vivian Cole is close to starting her junior year of college. She's out for one last run in her home state of Louisiana when everything changes for her.
Saul Moses is the Alpha of a dying pack in Alaska. When on business in the South, he encounters...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The ride to town with Frankie is fairly quiet. She chats a little at first about the land, spouting random facts until she notices I'm not listening and stops. Their "town" is a half-mile strip, equipped with a few rundown stores, a police station, a fire station, and one church. I scoff under my breath. They're even more pathetic than Worth.
"Okay," She says as she pulls into a gravel lot beside a strip mall. "This is the best place to get clothes," She motions to the thrift store next to where we're parked. "We have to go to the market across the street, too."
"'Kay," I'm short with her, but I know if I were to be overly nice she'd suspect something. And that's the last thing I want.
She just nods in response and we enter the dingy thrift store. It only has a few racks of clothing, the rest in large bins with sizes next to them. I sigh as I take it in. Don't get me wrong, I shop at thrift stores in Worth and at college, too. Just not this kind where you have to rummage to find something that's not terrible.
"It's all we have," Frankie comments as though reading my mind.
I shrug, "It's just clothes."
I gravitate to the racks first, thumbing through hideous shirts before finding a few that aren't so terrible, just plain. "You'll need some winter clothes, too. There's a shop down the street with that kind of stuff, though, so we can add it to the list."
I nod, not acknowledging her much as I continue to flip through the hangers before moving on to the bins. I find a small selection that isn't too bad. There's no changing room, so it's all guesswork.
When we're through, the clerk bags the clothes up, but doesn't make us pay. Frankie confidently carries the haul outside while I dumbly stand there, confused by her lack of knowledge about stealing. The clerk doesn't seem bothered by it either, settling back into her sudoku puzzle as soon as Frankie walks away.
I snatch up a stray, left-behind bag and hurry out after her, trying to adhere to Saul's "rule" for as long as possible—until I stage my escape, that is. My eyes flit over to the police station. All I have to do is go there, tell them he kidnapped me, and then I'll be on the first flight back to Worth. Something else catches my attention as I stand there behind Frankie, limply holding onto the plastic bag that reads THANK YOU in bold red letters.
A man, lurking across the street, next to the market. His hair is stark red, so bright the sun's reflection across it blinds me momentarily. He's dressed unnaturally nice for this town, wearing a whole suit and tie. He caught my attention, not just because of his hair, or his clothes, or the fact that he's lurking, but because he's staring right at me, unyieldingly. I turn to look behind me, past Frankie. There's nothing else there for him to be looking at. When I look back to him, he waves to me, curling each finger in greeting.
