I had people depending on me.
I had responsibilities.
And the thing about running was, once I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop. That would become my whole life from this day forward. Changing names in each city, not being able to trust anyone again.
I might be alive, but was it really living?
Sighing, I got back to my feet and wiped the dirt off my palms. Funny how the so-called easy way out was never all that easy. Instead of running again I decided to walk, taking my time and letting myself focus on what came after this. I needed to talk to Callum when I returned and sort things out with Desmond.
Then came the inevitable trip home, where all the real fun, nasty stuff was waiting. Perhaps that was why I was taking my time going back to the estate. Once I was with other people, I had to face reality. And there was a solid chance I was going to get royally screwed, and possibly killed, as a result.
It wasn’t a complete day in the life of Secret McQueen unless my life was at risk from someone.
I was finding it difficult to care now, though.
Be it death by Fairy King, death by Tribunal, or secret life as an FBI agent, none of those options seemed as drastic or awful to me as the threats of Peyton or Mercy. I was no longer a prisoner of my fear. And though I didn’t feel free in the most traditional sense of the word, I also didn’t feel shackled anymore.
Now, if I was going to die, it would be on my terms.
I could accept that kind of arrangement.
Soon enough the lights of the cabins appeared, and the raucous sounds of music and laughter spilled out from the pack’s private bar, The Den. They’d had to build their own after their antics proved too much to handle for any of the local establishments in St. Francisville.
I considered seeing who was participating in the party, until I saw Desmond sitting on the porch of one of the cottages, my boots and jacket neatly stacked beside him. He was staring right at me but didn’t call me over. For a long moment we simply stood, me in the trees and him in the mostly civilized world.
Run with me, I thought at him, knowing even as I considered it how impossible it would be.
He smiled and patted the empty space beside him on the porch.
The little cabin was different from the one where Lucas and I had stayed last time. It was painted bright green and looked smaller than the more luxurious one the king had been assigned.
I already liked this one better.
Sitting next to him, I threw caution to the wind and leaned my body against his, resting my head on his shoulder
and taking a deep breath, savoring the fresh burst of lime that danced across my tongue.
Home, thought the wolf.
Yes.
For once, she and I were in complete agreement.
“You’ve been gone a while,” he observed.
“Yeah. Running.”
“Do you feel any better?”
“I don’t know, honestly. Thought about making a break for it.” I tried to chuckle and pretend I was kidding, but once again my joke fell flat. Desmond looked none too amused by the idea of me fleeing. “I mean, I didn’t, obviously.”
Backpedaling wasn’t helping.
He snaked his arm around my shoulders and hugged me close, placing a gentle kiss on the side of my head. “I get the feeling you want to talk to me about something.”
Clever man.
“About what happened in the barn,” I began, wondering how to word my question so he didn’t feel like I was accusing him of anything. “I know it was a high-tension situation. Things were looking bad. I totally understand if you only asked because you thought—”