The Wolf Who Stole Me.

Chapter 4.

Chapter 4.

I couldn't help but feel my blood boil.

"Where's Becca?"

"We switched cars while your were asleep. You're safer when you're with me." He looked intent on the road.

I straightened myself on the seat, staring at him. "Safer?"

"Yes, a thousand times more safer."

A couple seconds flew by and I had to ask him. "Why'd you do it. Why did you have to kill my grandpa?...." my voice trailed off at his name.

Xavier gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles had turned white. His face was strained almost like he was replaying the entire event in his head.

The car slowly entered into traffic and Xavier cursed under his breath, "Fuck." 

Implying that "fuck" was for the traffic, fuck that he was stuck in the car with me and fuck that he had to explain himself in this car.

He did not turn to look at me. He stared intently in the little yellow Volkswagen beetle that was in front of us. 

"If you'd seen the movies, you would never believe me. It's best if you don't know what happened." Traffic was slow and the car was only moving inch by inch. It was silent between us two and I broke the ice.

"Well I want to know what happened. I can not know why you killed my grandpa and I can't even grasp that this whole situation is real. It doesn't make sense." I said, feeling my blood broil. "I just need to know why you did it so I can understand why my life ended up this way."

God, now every second of the situation that happened less than 5 hours is replaying in my head. My mind was in shambles including my life. My life is like a sick, horror sitcom.

"Leah" He said. His voice stopped me from thinking. I looked up from the never ending scene of cars ahead of me and looked at him. He was looking back at me.

"Let me explain when where home." He turned back to look at the road and we were moving again.

Home.

I had no home. My home was miles away. It was burned down with unmarked graves and lost memories. The pictures of Grandma and Gramps, the pictures of my mom and I, the birthday pictures and the videos, my childhood and my friends. 

A tear fell down my cheek and onto my finger. "Stop the car." I said.

I was beyond uncomfortable and sad. I needed to be away from everyone especially him. I didn't want to be in the same car with him. I couldn't bear to look at him without thinking about Gramp's. I felt guilty like I was the one who let him die and mom too.

He didn't listen to me and kept driving in silence. We were passing Time Square.

"Stop the car!" I yelled.

My body hits the side of my door when he swerves around a corner and parks next to a construction site. I rip the blanket off of me and throw it at his face. I took my seat belt off and angrily walked out of my car. I should've been the one to kick him out but I don't bother because I don't want to go through the hassle of arguing with him.

I passed the construction site, stomping my way towards a random park where there were people walking their dogs, reading under the tree, having a picnic or playing sports.

A hand latched onto my arm.

"Let me go." I scowled at him. I tried pulling my arm free but he didn't let go, he had a firm grip on my arm.