River Wolf(18)

“Yeah, I think it will be better for you.” Still not planning on staying longer than it took to get him into the care of medical professionals, she tightened her grip on the steering wheel. His suffering wore at her. All she wanted was for him to feel better. She didn’t dare speed and risk a ticket, so she remained jammed between a rock and a hard place with several hours on the road in front of them. “When was the last time you were home?”

“Twenty years, maybe?” Luc exhaled the words, he definitely sounded drowsy. Maybe she should leave him alone. “I lost track.”

Twenty years before he couldn’t have been more than a pre-teen, if that. What had he done, run away from home? “Long time.”

“Yeah. It’ll be good to see everyone.” A yawn stretched out the last word. When he said nothing else, she spared him another glance. A light snore reverberated from his chest, and his eyes were completely closed.

Sleep was good.

Keeping the car straight and steady was good, too.

Her heart hammered double time. They needed to go faster. I’ve done some dumb things in my life…why did I say yes to him?

Ten minutes later, she reached over and touched his wrist. His pulse beat steadily. Keeping two fingers pressed to the pulse point, she kept the rest of her attention on the road. “Don’t die on me, Luc.”

When he didn’t answer, she pressed the accelerator a little harder.







Three hours later, she slowed to a crawl as she divided her attention between the directions Luc wrote hours before and the rain swept streets in front of her. She could barely make out the signs, not that she’d seen many since she left the interstate. Fortunately, most of Luc’s directions were based on landmarks like a water tower, a bridge, and the one she currently sought—an old-style gas station called Tony’s.

The directions said it was about ten minutes from the bridge, but she’d been driving for fifteen through the downpour and hadn’t spotted it yet. Next to her, Luc continued to snore. If she had to, she’d wake him. The fact his color had improved the more he slept made her disinclined to disturb his rest.

Sucking on her lower lip, she leaned closer to the steering wheel as if it would give her a better view. The gas tank ticked perilously close to empty and her car didn’t play games. When the dial hit E, the car stopped. No passing go. No collecting two hundred dollars. She had a gas can in the trunk for those occasions when she found herself screwed on the side of the road, but—a sign which read Tony’s loomed out of the rain, and she blew out a sigh of relief.

Foot riding on the brake, she slowed and turned on her indicator. Swinging into the station, she parked next to the old pump, put the car in park and checked the station. Lights were on, but she couldn’t see anyone through the downpour. Next to her, Luc continued to sleep. After checking his pulse again, more to reassure herself he was actually alive, she twisted to check for her hoodie in the backseat but didn’t see it anywhere.

Oh, fuck it. If I get wet, I get wet. Grabbing her wallet, she slid out of the car and raced for the door. Despite the little lip keeping the rain off the pumps, she still managed to get drenched on her way to the front door of the station. The cold air inside instantly sent goosebumps racing over her skin—of all the days to wear a white t-shirt with a black sports bra.

Embarrassment settling like a rock in the pit of her stomach, she glanced around the empty half-shop. It really was an old fashioned gas station. They had a soda machine and an old, peeling linoleum counter and it smelled like old car exhaust and oil. God, she hoped they had a bathroom and it didn’t come with another walk through the rain to some dirty pit only accessible with a key that had a forty-pound board attached to it.

A man sat in a chair behind the counter, his feet propped up and a baseball cap tugged over his eyes. Clearing her throat, she hopped from foot to foot. The man behind the counter didn’t move. Not even a twitch.

Oh come on. I already have one unconscious man in the car.

“Excuse me?”

Nothing.

Frustration growing, she raised her voice. “Excuse me? Hello?”

“Bell on the counter,” came the rough response.

Bell on the…? Oh for the love of God. She slammed her palm down on the unvarnished silver dome and it released a dissonant ding. The man in the chair nudged his hat higher as he stood.

“Afternoon, ma’am. What can I do for you?”

“I need twenty dollars in gas,” she said, sliding the bill across the counter. “And some directions to 115 Old River Road in…” Pulling the hastily written directions out from under her wallet, she frowned. “Somewhere around here I think, but I’m not sure the name of the town.”