Lovers at War - (A.R.)

Chapter 08

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Ride or Die

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I SPOTTED WESLEY a few minutes ahead. He and Stanley were sitting on a wooden bench outside of a convenience store, talking amongst themselves like old friends. By this point, my anger had subsided, and yet I couldn't help but wonder what exactly got into me earlier. Was it the slow day at work? Or maybe I just needed to get some sleep?

It didn't matter. Anymore at least.

"Wesley!" I called out to my younger brother, and he didn't notice me yet. Approaching the two boys, I greeted him again, and it was only then when his attention was on me.

"You're back early," Wesley said and I gave him a wry look.

"Not really, troublemaker," I said, ruffling his hair teasingly. I nodded appreciatively at Stanley, directing my next words to him, "Thanks for looking after him, Stan."

"It's no problem, Miss," he said with a smile. He patted my brother's back. "Wes is one of my best friends."

For that, I was glad. Although I didn't know much about Stanley, I was happy to know that Wesley was able to find some sort of friendship in this unfamiliar town. It was the least he needed after what we went through back home - no, Ohio was our home now.

After a moment more of conversing with the two boys about nothing, in particular, my brother and I finally set on our journey home. It was getting late and the sun was at its lowest in the sky. Wesley and I never really stayed in town for much longer following the end of my work shift, so it was really the first time I'd get to experience the nighttime in this rusty old town.

Despite myself, I found myself glancing at my brother who was walking beside me. He had on a nervous expression, which was only added on as he was holding my hand tighter than normal.

"What's up, Wes?" I asked after a moment. "Something bothering you?"

"I'm not used to the night over here," he said. "It's probably nothing, don't worry."

I furrowed my brows, looking around myself in question. my eyes darted back to one corner in particular - I swear I saw something move there. After, I gave Wesley's hand a gentle squeeze. "We'll be home soon."

He nodded, and just as I was about to say something else, another hand was gently placed on my lower back. Feeling my breaths quicken, I didn't dare to look at who it was. It seemed to me that Wesley wasn't entirely aware of what was going on either, or if he was - he didn't care.

With my eyes strictly on the pavement, the lean body whispered assertively in my ear. Still, I could recognize the voice. "Follow me."

I mumbled out a response, not quite being able to put a face to the voice yet. "W-why?"

He huffed slightly. "If you don't want to get jumped tonight, then I suggest you follow me."

And then I paused. Slowly turning my head, relief and a bit of guilt filled me as I realized that it was the saviour. What was he doing here anyway? Was he.  . .following us? And still, although I knew better than to follow anyone anymore, I accepting defeat, beckoned Wesley to the other way where we followed the man together.

None of us said anything to each other for the short distance to wherever he was planning on taking us. I seriously hoped that he wasn't going to do anything bad to us himself. I had forgotten my pepper spray at home today, too.

And when we did reach, ahead of us was a truck. Something like a pick-up and a Jeep. I assumed it was his.

"Get in the car, I'll drive you home," he demanded, moving around the vehicle and opening the driver's door.

Um, what? Was he just expecting my brother and me to follow him, just like that? That too when we knew very well that he could have potentially been a kidnapper himself? If not a kidnapper, definitely some sort of criminal. . .

Okay, I may have been exaggerating, as he definitely did not look like a crime lord from any angle.

"Hold on, why did you make us follow you in the first place? What was exactly going to happen if we didn't?" I said, stepping away from the vehicle.

He sighed, not answering my question. I looked down and almost had a heart attack as Wesley wasn't beside me. Looking at the truck, I saw the little boy already seated in the back seat, waving at me from the inside. This boy.

"Fine. At least tell me your name first." That should've been an easy enough question to answer.

"Arvin," he said after a moment.

Against my will, I stepped forward and opened up the passenger seat's door. As I hopped in, I muttered out a small, "I'm Faye."