The Runaway: A Werewolf Story

Chapter 12

The next day Buck made calls in the morning and found a construction company that needed an office assistant. "They're werewolves, a nice family, a father, and his two sons, and they are interested in having you come in for an interview. Sound good?"

"Wonderful."

"Great, they were thinking tomorrow morning. Now, I really have to get down to the bar. I had my part-timer working there while being here with you and I fear he has given away all of my beer to his friends. We have some deliveries coming in today. I could use a hand doing inventory, and I could pay you."

Buck wanted her to drive. It took some learning to acclimate to driving the big old truck, in part because she couldn't remember the last time she drove a car. She had a license, but it had been a while. Probably when Jake was too drunk to drive. That was usually the only time he let her drive his car at all. She pushed thoughts of Jake away to focus on maneuvering the big truck over the pits and rocks and roots.

Eventually, she reached the dingy old bar at the edge of the main drag, proud that she navigated the way there without Jake's help. Olive was already far in the future picking out cars and new outfits for her new job, when her blood froze up in her veins. She recognized Jake's car in front of the bar.

She nearly flew from the truck as she ran into the bar, Buck calling out to her. In the corner, a young bartender with a beard was talking to a figure in a faux fur coat. The bartender looked up as Olive burst in.

The woman in the coat turned. Charity. Olive ran to her, tears in her eyes, for under the makeup she could see the bruises on her friend's face. The swollen eye, the fat lip. The two women held each other tight, shoulders shaking.

Olive pulled back and carefully tipped her chin up, "Did he do this?" Her voice choking with rage. How she hated him. How she wanted to tear him apart with her teeth while he screamed and begged. Charity nodded, eyes downcast. "Where's your mom? Trevor?" Charity blinked away tears, mascara running.

"I sent them away, emptied my savings. They went to Florida, staying with my mom's old friend. He can't find them. It was the best I could do. Sean is in ICU." Buck was watching them both, face unreadable.

"Where is Jake?" Olive said, her voice barely a whisper.

"I'm so sorry I betrayed you." She sniffled and dabbed at her eyes. "He's gone totally crazy."

"I'm so sorry." She continued, "He forced me to drive with a gun pressed to my side. "

"Where is he now?" Charity's head hung low and she snuffled. The bathroom door opened at the back and there he was. Jake. Alive and well.

It was as if all the air had been vacuumed from the room and Olive felt her vision blur. She'd had so many imagined scenarios encountering Jake, but frozen paralysis from fear had not been one. "There's my girl." He said.

It was amazing how much hold he still had on her, ten years was a long time to be under someone's thumb, someone who claimed to love you above all things. Olive's pulse was in her throat and her entire body was instantly coated in sweat. Chastity grabbed her forearm squeezing in fear.

"Everything all right?" Buck said from behind her, she'd forgotten he was there. He was to her left but she didn't dare look back and lose sight of Jake. The young bartender shifted to her right and cleared his throat.

"These two just rolled in at opening, was asking when the owner was going to be in." He said face serious. Olive noticed silent old Eamon at the end of the bar where he'd been that first night, his eyes watching the scene unfold. There was another couple in the far corner, middle-aged biker types. All wolves, Olive scented, all wolves in the bar save Jake and Charity.