Different Kinds {GirlXGirl}

Excape plan

~Carson🍂
"Wait now hold on! You said you would be taking us somewhere Valora would be safe. You did not mention a transatlantic flight to get there!" Mr. Cross was reasonably bewildered, nearly turning sideways in the front passenger seat to look at our impromptu abductor.

"John, we already discussed this, if Valora's in danger here then we have to move somewhere safe for her." At his wife's reminder he visibly takes a steadying breath to regain his composure.

The male lycan seems to take this as his opportunity speak up. "Do our parents know we're going to Egypt?"

Stacy glances back at him with a vigorous nod. "Yes, yes of course."

Pin-balling my focus between everyone else in the car I finally settle on the overly familiar Italian woman. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" I half yell, more than a little fed up with this whole day in its entirety.

"Language!" The assumedly Puerto Rican yells at me, her accent coming on at least ten layers thicker with that one word.

"Don't 'language' me you buck toothed poodle!" I snap back, more than a little irritated with her specifically. "It is one hundred percent your fault I'm here in the first place!"

"ENOUGH!!!" The Italian woman yells over everyone, "We are going to Egypt because I said so and that is final! No ands, ifs, buts about it we are going." she finalized in a sharp tone.

"And how exactly do you plan on getting there?" I ask, my voice dripping with poorly disguised disdain, "The Nadef will easily find you whether you take an airliner or carrier."

"I know a guy." She answers her accent becoming thicker than before.

"What guy?" The blue eyed Anu ask from in front of me, "And how are we going to pay this 'guy'? We have no money."

"We no have to pay him. He owes me, favor and fly us for free." The woman tells her daughter. Her English was slipping into a more Italian dialect as she continued talking with her daughter until they were both rattling off to each other in Italian.

I caught bits and pieces of it but it didn't mean anything. I couldn't understand the bigger parts of the conversation so the words I could get meant nothing.

'Great! Just great.' I think to myself sarcastically. 'I'm being forcibly dragged halfway around the bloody world to entertain a lot of psychopaths.'

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A couple hours and a few death threats later we pull up to an old warehouse/junkyard and drive up to a set of old cast-iron gates with a thick chain and a large open padlock hanging off one gate. Mr. Cross got out and opened the gate, as we drive through I look back to watch the older man close and lock the gates.

We continued to make a winding path through the heaps off old airplane part and the occasional destroyed car or construction machinery. The twisting and turning of the path made it hard to remember which way we'd come, the mute similarity and convergence with countless other paths made the task impossible.

The car finally comes to a stop in front of a large old warehouse of some sort. I was left in the car as the others got out to stretch their legs and talk to this 'guy'.

The fact none of them saw fit to keep someone out here to watch me was insulting to say the least. I looked over the back of the seat in front of me to try and find something to cut these restraints.

Leaning my arms on the seat I didn't realize my hands had hit something until I heard angry hissing and felt a sharp pain in my wrist. Yanking my hands back, I look down to see that damn cat from earlier curled up in the seat where it had been sleeping.