Page 67 of To Keep A Wolf
Anger.
I’m used to that.
“This will work,” I say.
“It’s a shit plan, Mac.” I don’t answer, and she sighs, settling back against her chair. Her eyes are on the road, but she makes no move to start driving again. “I’ve never gone for a mark with such a shitty plan, and that’s usually just one on one combat.”
“Hey,” I say. “Two on one.”
She grimaces. “Right.”
“I can’t leave those people to die,” I say quietly. “Even if you can.”
She twists in her chair, looking at me again. “You think this is easy for me?”
“I don’t know. Is it?”
“Running is easy,” she mutters and then says more darkly, “Fighting is easy. But only if I know I can win.” No argument there. “Risking you,” she adds, “is the hardest thing I’ll ever do.”
“Was that true even when you made that deal with Jadick for my life?”
“Without his help, you would have died.”
“You don’t know that.”
Anger flashes, but she exhales, letting it go before saying, “You’re right. I don’t. What I do know is you’re alive, here, now. And I’m done interfering.”
“You are literally trying to drive me off into the sunset against my will,” I point out.
She scowls. “Fine, I sometimes interfere. I can’t help it. You’re my daughter.”
I laugh. It’s brittle, but it’s something, I guess.
She looks at me warily as if she’s thinking the same thing.
“We’re sticking to the plan,” I say.
“It’s a shit plan,” she says again.
“It’s a shit plan,” I agree.
She stares back at me, searching my face—for what, I don’t know. Finally, she blows out a breath and straightens in her seat. Behind us, the rev of an engine roars closer from around the bend.
In the side mirror, I see the van speeding toward us. It lurches to a stop beside us on the narrow, winding road. From the driver’s seat, Levi glares at my mother. Tripp leans out the open window toward us.
“You tryin’ to set a new record or what?”
My mom taps the wheel. “Just seeing what this baby can do.”
Tripp glances at me, and I nod, letting him know we’re all good. He turns and says something to Levi and then waves us forward. “Let’s do it.”
My mom eases off the brake, and we head down the road, this time at a speed that doesn’t threaten to toss me around the seat. As we drive, I can only think about how true it is: this is a shit plan. But it’s the only one we’ve got.
Blackstone is three hours away, according to my mother.
Even this far out, we don’t stop for gas. Not at a station, anyway. When Levi gets low, he signals for us to pull over, and he refills using a red can stashed in the back of the van underneath the mattress compartment.
“How’s it going?” Levi asks when I wander closer to where he has the can propped up to the fuel opening. Both sides of the road are lined with trees. It smells like open fields and pine out here. Like nothing in the world could be this wrong. For once, I appreciate staying off the major highways. My wolf is better out here. More sure of herself.
