Primal Promise

Nineteen*

As Mr. and Mrs. Throckmorton drove past the entrance to the resort, CJ dropped her wallet onto the floorboard, as if by accident, and leaned over to pick it up.   By the time she 'found' it, they were past the drive and she was sure nobody there could have seen her.   She wasn't at all sure who was in on it. 

The further they got from Diamond Lake, the smaller Mount Bailey grew, the less the tense feeling oppressed her.   She thought about the plan, now that she had time.  Crater Lake was a big touristy spot, yes, but not the kind that had much in the way of civilization.  

The Rangers might help, but they might call the cops and then she'd either have to tell the truth, that she'd stolen a truck to flee, or she'd have to make up something better than she had for the nice Mormon couple who were bearing her ever southward.  The further they went, the worse she felt.  She didn't want to involve these nice people in her craziness. 

"The 138 is coming up pretty soon.  Just drop me off there.  I'll get to Chemult and hop a train back to Portland."  

They balked a bit, not feeling great about leaving her in, basically, the middle of nowhere, but she insisted and after many warnings to be careful and promises that they'd pray for her, they pulled away back on track to their little vacation.   When they'd vanished from sight, she resumed her walk.  

The land on either side of the road was fairly flat and devoid of brush, so she was able to keep well off the highway.  The cars passed so swiftly they paid little attention to someone walking. They were not rare, but they were spaced out enough that it was several minutes between vehicles. 

She kept to the far edge of the shoulder, her mind on what she'd do once she got to Chemult.  She'd have no choice but to buy a train ticket.   It would eat into her funds, but she hadn't much choice.   

Should she though?  He knew where she lived.  Maybe he'd track her down before she could even get a bag packed.  Drag her back out to the ranch where nobody could hear her scream.    She frowned.  That was just panic.   He'd not done a thing to hurt her.  Not... really.   Everyone had, in their own ways, only been kind to her.   

Even Charles had done what he did because he was tired of people keeping secrets.   Maybe she should just... call Jameson.   Wait, she couldn't.  She had left her phone back with the truck.  She could call him from the next phone though.

What would she say?  Admit that she was tired?  Scared?  Unsure?   He had been so sure that she was the one for him, bound up by some weird mating ritual she didn't understand, but he'd been just as hurt by it as she was.   Was she really considering this?  Surrendering to a pack of werewolves?   Would she turn into one?  

She remembered how gently the beast version of Blaine had been with Jaris.  How she smiled and wiggled into him, spread her fingers between his, wanted his touch.   How he'd scooped her up and carried her away.   She hadn't felt as frightened as she'd felt... envious.   Tears stung at her eyes again, and she decided.   She would call Jameson from the next phone.  At least to tell him she was okay.   They might be worried.  

A couple of hours passed, and she was terribly thirsty, but she had to find a phone.   She was just thinking about possibly considering another bout of hitchhiking when she heard wheels leave the asphalt and hit the wide swath of dirt that flanked the road. She cast a look back over her shoulder. 

The pickup was old and battered.   Whatever the original color had been, it was long ago covered in one of those 'did it m'self' camo jobs where they'd obviously just used four colors of spray paint.   Dark green, black, brown, and lighter green globs covered the whole surface. The three men who stepped out were textbook examples of 'sketchy'.