Mature Content 17+ || Savage Wolves MC Book Two
In the wake of tragedy, Callie never fails at staying positive. But, after having her brother and the rest of the club nearly taken from her, she's a little more cautious, albeit still upbeat.
So caut...
*This is in no way meant as disrespect, Madam Lucrèce is actually based on someone I met in real life! Also, I am not implying in this book that supernatural beings exist. Yes, I, as a person, believe in that, but this chapter definitely does not imply that. It may seem like it does, though. Lots of fortune tellers and witches use context clues and generalized statements to make predictions that seem very real - just keep that in mind. BUT, maybe I'm just bullshitting here and there are real witches in the world I've created. Who knowssssss...*
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•Callie•
Pop culture really does romanticize running away like it's this glorious adventure filled with fun, sex, and good times.
That couldn't be further from the truth.
Sure, the sex is great - exactly what I wanted desperately back in Vegas, but being constantly on the move isn't glamorous. It isn't romantic. It isn't fun.
It's debilitating. Its exhausting. It's challenging. It's hell.
To know that there might not be any end in sight is worse.
Having Gray at my side to keep me company and keep me warm at night is everything I wanted, but running from a force that we're unsure of it's location, is rough.
After leaving the coffee shop, we cut down through Mississippi and headed into Louisiana instead of going straight across into Alabama - which is what our original path was supposed to take us through.
Gray thought maybe switching directions might be smart and help throw Ben off our paths.
There has to be some way he's tracking us if he was spotted in Mississippi. How else would he have known where we were?
Around noon, we spot a shady car dealership in a mid sized town that boasts being the home of some celebrity I've never heard of before.
The sign at the front of the lot reads Ed's Used & Junk Cars For Sale - the paint chipping and weather worn over years of not being kept up.
The sky is a dark hue, witness to the storm brewing that will no doubt cause us to have to seek shelter soon.
Taking a breath when I step out of Gray's beat down sedan, I'm met with the stench of oils and dirt, my nose scrunching in disgust before relaxing when the familiar scent reaches my mind.
Smells like the repair shop back home.
Dad never worked much but he did like to fix cars and would bring me out to help several times growing up.
The shop is owned by the club, now mostly ran by Ash and Ronan, and constantly busy. The overpowering stench of motor oil and grime a constant within the air. It's almost as if it's embedded itself into the walls of the building.
