The next few customers were regulars and easier for her to handle. Carlie even whispered, "you're doing just fine," when they passed by each other. Her reaction to the guy still bothered her. His flirting reminded her how empty her life was going to be from here on out.
Having Kellen haunting her didn't help matters. He was a wolf shifter, and she wasn’t anymore. Even if she weren’t planning on skipping town as soon as she could afford to, they had no future. So, why did she keep thinking about him? Why couldn't she just focus on surviving the next month so she could leave without any drama?
Are you looking for an excuse to stay?
Well, of course she wanted to stay. Running was a hard life, one that would end with her dead. But she would also be an idiot to draw attention to herself and the town by staying. Regardless of what type of wolf shifter he was, Kellen couldn't take on the Riverstone gang on his own. Even if he knew a couple of other wolf shifters, it wouldn't be enough. It would take an endless army of wolf shifters to stop Josiah from finding her.
The next few hours flew by with Samara settling into the rhythm and flow of her new job. No one else commented about her blue skin, and with the tips she received, she made a solid dent in the budget she'd need to buy supplies and new clothes before she left. Carlie waved her back into the kitchen.
"Here you go." George handed her tray filled with a stuffed chicken salad wrap, basket of fries, and more water. "You're welcome to eat in the break room, but since you live upstairs you can take the tray up with you. Just return it before the dinner shift starts."
Only then did she realize how hungry she was. By the time she made it to the top of the stairs, she understood why Carlie got so excited about a foot massager. She flipped the TV back on after she placed the tray on the nightstand, planning to stretch out on the bed and relax for a minute before eating.
Relaxation lasted less than a minute thanks to the news.
It's a gruesome scene here in Riverstone, Montana. The trash collectors who travel this route discovered a decapitated body inside one of the garbage bins at the Riverstone estate. Police responded and found seventeen people dead inside the mansion that had been burnt to the ground. There's no comment from the sheriff about why fire & rescue never responded to the fire, or if the victims were dead before they were decapitated or burned...
Samara snapped off the TV and swung her legs off the bed so she could eat her food. She knew what the coroner would find. The victim in the garbage bin died when she stabbed him to death. He was one of Josiah's omegas, a tough foot soldier, as most omegas were, and die-hard loyal to his alpha. As a wolf shifter she had been able to match him in speed and power, and she knew how to use her knife to her advantage.
When it was over, she’d picked up his body and head off the ground and dropped him into the commercial-sized bin. The satisfying clang of the top dropping down lasted a long time and gave her courage to keep running. She never looked back and assumed that the smoke from the fire would attract attention, but it hadn't. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Josiah didn't care enough about his pack to call 911.
Her heart thumped out of rhythm. The best way to make it stop was to flood her body with oxygen. Closing her eyes and concentrating only on what her body needed, she filled her lungs with air. She could do this, survive when no person...wolf shifter...thought she could. Certainly not the alpha of the Riverstone Pack.
What should she do now? Eat. She needed fuel. She chomped on her chicken salad, while she processed her own threat assessment. Did Kellen already know? She owed him a warning, and she would never forgive herself if anyone in Winterbourne got hurt or killed because she stopped here. A month was too long. She’d have to shorten her timeline and put a plan together to keep everyone safe.
Josiah's pack might have lost a couple more wolves in his search for her, but so long as he was still alive, she could never truly stop running.
Chapter
Five
As it turned out, Kellen had left the bar before she returned the empty dinner tray to the kitchen. George was busy, so Samara headed to the break room. Carlie didn't hesitate when Samara asked where Kellen had gone.
"Across the street to the gym. One of his buddies owns the place and he's always there when he's not here. I wish I could buy the secret to eternal good looks from them. George and I work out twice a week and go to the shooting range a couple of times a month, but we're showing our age and nothing can stop that. Kellen and the other two, I swear they must bathe in the fountain of youth every night cause after thirty years, they don't even have so much as a gray hair on their heads or crow’s feet around their eyes."
A brief laugh escaped before Samara could stop it. One of the few nuggets of information she managed to learn was that the average wolf shifter lived five hundred or so years. The housekeeper who was put in charge of her after she was released from her cage told her this after she made it clear she would not help Samara escape.
Not that it mattered then, and it still didn't matter now. Once she drank the colloidal silver, she could feel her old self slipping back into her skin. No more wolf rattling around in her brain, trying to make her comply with the pack's orders, or anyone else's for that matter. Her body belonged to her and her alone.
There would be a blizzard in Miami before she let anyone or anything take that control away from her again.
Thanking Carlie, she left the break room and headed outside. There was zero traffic at least, so she could quickly dash across the street to the Winterbourne Fitness Club. Of course, there would be a half-wall between the front windows and the interior blocking her view so she couldn't see if Kellen was nearby. Inside, the air conditioning blasted the breath out of her. Now she wished she'd brought her ragged sweater. Too late for that. Rounding the half-wall, the first thing she noticed was how big the gym looked for such a small town. About half of the equipment was in use, but it was still early in the day.
"Can I help you?" A woman, who looked to be in her mid-twenties, approached with a frown. She wore a light green tank top that accentuated her eyes and hair of the same color. She also wore a sports bra that boosted rather than flattened, along with mid-rise black tights that showed off her gold navel ring. It didn't take a genius to figure out that she was here to be seen, not work out. Which was fine because Samara only needed one question answered.
"I need to speak with Kellen. Is he here?"
The other woman's frown deepened. "I'll give him a message."
"No, thank you. I work across the street." Samara turned so the woman could see the logo on her sleeve. This apparently soothed whatever feathers Samara's presence ruffled. "I have an urgent matter that would be best described by me."
With a shrug and a tilt of her head in the general direction of the back of the gym, she said, "They're in the back. Go behind the row of bench presses, look for the door that says "Room 2."
At least the woman didn't follow her, so Samara wondered if she worked there or if she was just a nosy member of the gym club. This gave her an opportunity to not quite run toward the bench presses. Seeing the door, she pulled it open revealing a huge open space with a parkour course, with some rock climbing, and slacklining included around the edges, all in use. To her left she saw the alcove with a sign that said "Office."
The door opened before she could knock, revealing a man as large as Kellen with tousled blond hair, light golden brown eyes that matched his leather jacket, and a face that looked like the angels had carved it. Once again, Samara endured the familiar elevator eyes. What was it with that? Sure, her discoloration was unusual, but the rest of her looked normal—didn't it?
At last, the blond man stepped aside and motioned her in with a gallant bow. Kellen sat in a swivel chair next to another man, both absorbed in the TV mounted on the back wall. As Samara took in the scene, she realized her trip had been for nothing. They were listening to the news report replay.
