New Age Werewolf Series Book 2: Hunter's Daughter, Alpha's Mate

Part 9: First Night On The Run

I wished my eyes had windshield wipers and I wished my tears had no salt. That would solve two problems at once. 

It took me awhile to slow down, to stop driving like I was being chased, like I was desperate. I Googled for a nearby twenty-four hour car wash, and immediately got rid of the water paint over the state line. 

Finally breathing normally, I pulled over at a motel truck stop in Ohio. I made sure to park near the parking lot exit behind the building instead of on the sides or front where the camper would be visible. I checked in with cash, showered, and went back to my SUV camper. Didi said that everything was in here, so I had some investigating to do. I went into the glove compartment. There was a manual in there, along with an envelope of cash, and a cell phone. I had counted thousands before the cell phone rang. 

I picked up the phone, and clicked on. I didn't say a word. 

"Hey, Firefly, we're all meeting for a spa day," I heard my father's voice say. "See you there."

The line went dead.

Spa days were in Chicago, near my grandparents' time share at Marina City. 

I crawled in back and laid down. I opened the door under the burner to find all my favorite snacks pre-packed. I was about to open a bag of chips when I thought about how long I may be blessed with a refrigerator. Whatever was in there should be eaten first. I found grilled meat in there, just as Dad said.  I made myself a sandwich, and ate. The food had taste, but I couldn't seem to enjoy it. I was way too busy trying to contemplate, figure things out, and not think about Kyros Kincaid.

DId he know what I looked like? That would make things complicated. I decided to look him up online. He had to have some sort of public face. I pulled out my laptop and searched. "Kyros Kincaid..." I whispered as I typed. "Kyros...Kyros...Kyros..." Suddenly auto fill worked its wonders. "Kyros Andrew Kincaid." I clicked. Again, my breath caught at a near picture and I shook off the automatic reaction.

I let my finger glide across the screen. "Let's see...wow." I read. "Mother was British..." Aw, his mom died, too. "Father Irish. Born in Britain. Multiple holdings...imports, exports...hell, he's rich." I sat up straight in alarm. This was bad. A werewolf who lived in the forest, who was in new territory in the U.S., would have been easy. This guy was formidable. He had contacts. He had money. I was suddenly very relieved that I left my cell phone behind for the burner, and now I knew all apps and emails attached to my name couldn't be accessed or used, nor would I be tempted. He'd be tracing them. I shook my head. "Handsome rich werewolf wants me dead. Yay." I closed my laptop, and laid back. I suddenly didn't feel safe anymore, like I needed to keep moving. 

Suddenly, I saw two black SUV's pull up. "Oh, my God!" I whispered. I only saw them as they pulled up in front, but they didn't see me because they had to turn. I scrambled backward between the bed and mini kitchen, then crawled to the driver's seat. I started the car slowly, softly as I could, and took the back exit to the parking lot so I didn't have to drive in front of the motel where they might see me through the lobby windows.