Page 42 of Wolf Cursed
Oscar hurried to the truck, yanking open the passenger door. “Get in,” he ordered.
I didn’t argue.
The moment I was inside, Oscar slammed the door and hurried around to the driver’s side. He slid in and started the engine, gunning it so hard we kicked up gravel and spun out until the tires caught and we were propelled out of there.
I sucked in large gulps of air, struggling to get my thoughts under control. My heart slammed against my ribs in wild, erratic beats. My lungs burned, and my hand gripped the armrest of my door like it was the only thing anchoring me to my own sanity. Maybe it was. Because what had just happened…it was insane.
I was actually legitimately crazy.
That was the only explanation here.
Because the alternative was too unbelievable to fathom.
Chapter Ten
Ten minutes later, we pulled into the gravel lot behind the Throttle, and Oscar cut the engine. I started to get out, but Oscar stopped me with a hand on my arm. I met his eyes, still reeling.
“I need you to go inside, lock the doors, and don’t come out again until I get back,” he said firmly.
“You’re leaving?” I asked, panicked, terrified, and more alone than I’d ever felt.
He winced but held his ground. “I need to make sure you’re safe.”
“I’m right here. With you,” I said. “You can see that I’m safe.”
“No, I mean—”
His phone rang.
“Yeah,” he answered it.
He listened for a few seconds then said, “Okay. Yeah. Thanks.”
Then he hung up.
“Never mind. Let’s go inside.”
Relieved, I let him pull me across the bench seat and out his door. His arm remained around me as he led me across the gravel and inside the Throttle. I waited while he re-bolted the back door then followed him farther into the garage.
He didn’t bother turning the overhead lights on, and that only made me more scared of whatever might be chasing us. Instead, he clicked the switch on a small lamp over his workspace.
“You’re safe here,” he said like he’d read my mind. “Have a seat.”
He gestured to a stool I’d seen him use while working on bikes.
But I couldn’t sit.
And I damn sure couldn’t go another second without an explanation. Because whatever the hell those wolves were doing in the woods just now, Oscar clearly knew all about it.
“What the hell was that?” I demanded, my voice only shaking a little.
Oscar winced.
I could tell, even after everything, he really didn’t want to explain any of this. For some reason, that hurt. I thought of my dad, never actually explaining his paranoia or what he was afraid of. No answers. Just running. Constant running. From ghosts. From monsters. From me. And now Oscar, the only family I had left, was doing the same.
“This town isn’t like other towns,” he began.
I bit back the sarcasm that wanted to slip out, waiting for more. But he remained quiet.
