The Amazing Wolf Boy

Part 73 - The Black Mustang

Uncle Bob wasn't bluffing when he said I was grounded. For the next week, I had little time to myself. He drove me to school, picked me up afterward, and hung over my shoulder in the evenings. Brittany and I couldn't have a phone conversation with him always within earshot.

But the week that followed, he hired on to re-roof Mrs. Portland's barn. He asked Howard to drive me home after school, and Howard was happy to delegate that honor to Brittany.

That was when I noticed the pack leader and his stolen black Mustang everywhere. He cruised past the school when I was in class. He honked and waved going the other way on Southern Boulevard. On Tuesday, he followed us home, but when I hopped out of the car to confront him he squealed away.

Tuesday night, I slept with my bedroom window closed, although it was stifling in my room. I was unnerved, but couldn't let on to anyone.

"Why can't he leave us alone?" Brittany said Wednesday at lunch.

I shrugged. "Why don't you just drop me off at the Sunshine Motel and I'll ask him?"

"No way," she snapped. "Don't even think it. Besides, I have to stop by Walgreens to pick up some salve for Grandpa."

So after school, we headed to Walgreens. Brittany drove in silence, not her usual talkative, bubbly self. We parked in the lot. It was crowded, but we found a good spot.

As we unbuckled our seatbelts, a black car screeched to a halt behind us, blocking us in.

"Oh, God." Brittany stared in the rearview mirror, her face paler than usual.

"Go into the store. I'll talk to him."

"But—"

"Go on."

She got out and, trembling visibly, walked forward between the cars. Her cell phone was in her hand, and I wondered if she planned to call the sheriff. That thought gave me courage enough to walk to the passenger side of the Mustang.

The pack leader grinned. "Hello, pup."

I leaned to look in the open window. "What do you want?"

"I want you to be afraid of me."

"And you'll accomplish this how? By harassing me?"

"Is that what you think I'm doing?" He chuckled. "I'm just trying to get to know you, learn your routine, your weaknesses."

His words landed hard in the pit of my stomach. My hands shook, and I rested them on my knees. "Seems like a lot of work. Why bother?"

His smile faded. "Because I don't like feeling you'll be talking about me after I'm gone. Now, I could kill you, but I hate to deprive the world of another wolf, even one as housebroken as you. I could rip out your tongue, but I'd much rather teach you to hold it."

Try as I might, I could not think of a witty comeback. I could only stare. My uncle was right. The guy was dangerous and unpredictable. And I'd dissed him off.

At that moment, a green-and-white sheriff's cruiser pulled into the parking lot.

The pack leader scowled. "Don't be talking about me behind my back, you hear?" He put the car in gear, merged with traffic on Southern, and disappeared.

I gulped my heart back out of my throat and walked with shaky knees to the drugstore.

Brittany threw her arms about me. "What did he say?"

Should I tell her he wanted to kill me, or that he was going to rip my tongue out? I hooked my thumb. "He said to stay away from the sheriff's car that just pulled in. Did you call them?"