Rogue

Chapter 12

Silver RPOV

It's been almost ten days since I've been on the road, roads that don't even know where they're going. After the first bus ride full of normal people, I gave up. No one likes to travel with someone who throws up every quarter of an hour. If it was fine at first, the disgusted looks from the passengers and the muffled curses from the driver hastened my descent. I looked through the cloud of dust rising from the back of the carriage, the relieved faces of the seat neighbors. If I hadn't felt so bad, I probably would have laughed, so......I nonchalantly shrugged and left.

My stomach is a huge hole that widens with every episode of vomiting, my legs are on fire and my head is heavier than a tombstone. I move like a robot, the small backpack hanging on my back getting heavier with every step.

From time to time, I make a small stop at gas stations on the side of the interstate to get the cheapest cereal bar and fill up my bathroom bottle. The hundred dollars I had in my wallet decayed day by day, as did my powers.

I walk on the side of the road with my arms wrapped around my body and ignore the cars speeding past me. The numbness that grips me is a true blessing to my suffering body and soul. I just focus on trying to put one foot in front of the other and block out any thoughts of Him.

The car suddenly stops next to me, it makes me startled. The memory of last night when I was about to be r***d by the "benevolent" driver who stopped to help me, makes me take a step back.

The weak light inside the car reveals the gentle and worried face of a man. The hair white as snow and the deep wrinkles furrowing her face, make me overcome my fear and stay put.

"Where are you going girl, alone, on the road at night?!"

The concern and indignation in his voice fills my eyes with tears. Although it's only been a few days, it seems like years have passed since someone cared about me.

"Before."I whisper.

"Come up here."

I don't wait for him to tell me twice and jump my tired body into the truck much too high for my height.

"Thank you."

The car runs through the night that surrounds us and I am slowly overcome by the warmth, silence and a subtle smell of animals, more specifically of horses. My eyelids fall more and more often, heavy and tired. I forgot what it's like to sleep for at least two hours tied up. In the last few days, I dozed off for a few minutes, leaning against a building, a bridge leg or simply standing up.

"Try to sleep a little. It's at least three hours to the first motel." he says.

With my brain almost asleep, the words simply escape me:

"I don't have money for a motel."

The smooth revving of the engine and the music on the radio lull me into a deep sleep. The man next to me does not inspire even a shadow of fear, on the contrary, I instinctively trust myself and leave myself completely in his hands. Among the last remnants of lucidity I hear:

"Sleep well, child."

A strong and nagging ray of sunlight tortures my eyes under the tired eyelids. The little squeak I let out causes a happy chuckle in my left. Dizzy from sleep, I try to figure out where I am and jump up when reality hits me hard in the face. The atrocious and familiar pain returns as if suddenly and the stomach does its usual number. I almost hit my head on the dashboard when the brake was suddenly put on by the man, probably scared, by the greenish hue of my face. I burst out of the car like a rocket and fall on the side of the road trying to empty my empty stomach. I don't even flinch anymore when I see the red liquid soaking the ground.

"Gosh!"

The horrified voice of the man who wants to help me, pulls me out of my carelessness and despite my signs to keep my distance, supports my head and gently rubs my back. It's a gesture of compassion that tears my first tears after the tears spilled in the hotel room. The wall of indifference with which I surrounded myself in the last few days, collapses in the arms of a man who vaguely smells of cologne, tobacco, horses and.... mercy! Thank you very much!

"Drink a little water." he urges me and raises a bottle in front of my tear-stained eyes.

The warm but delicious liquid is like a balm for my sore throat. After rinsing my mouth a little, I greedily swallow every drop.

"Easy," he urges me. "Don't get hurt again."

I try to stop, even though I know it's the only thing that will fill my hungry stomach. It is a paradox. Fainting with hunger in conditions where nausea finishes me every quarter of an hour. Regardless of what and how much I eat, I do not retain or assimilate anything. I arrived in a few days, just like at the beginning.

My she-wolf is dying despite my desperate pleas. It's all I have left in this world and I feel it every day as it goes. I'm going with her, and all I've come to hope, even pray, is for it to end once and for all, to get rid of all this atrocious torment and pain.

With the support of the man, I reach the car and strain myself in the seat. I put my head back and squeeze my eyes hard trying to stop a new flow of tears.

Without a word, the man flinched and after long minutes of struggling in an ocean of suffering, I manage to say

"Thank you!"

The hoarse and tearful voice sounded foreign even to my ears.

"You're welcome, little girl! My name is Thomas. Tom, for friends." he smiles.

"Thanks Tom! I'm Silver."

"It fits you. You have some special eyes. You're beautiful."

I turn red. Two pink spots color my pale cheeks. HE told me I was beautiful, HE could spend hours playing with my hair, HE made my heart beat faster with one look, HE.........convicted me with one gesture .

"It's time for breakfast and a coffee. A strong coffee!"

Tom's cheerful voice wakes me up from my reverie and I panic. The few dollars I have left, I can't waste on breakfast. A doughnut, a small bar of something with a lot of sugar is enough.

We stop in front of a small restaurant and I have nothing to do, I have to get off. Tom firmly grabs my arm and after we enter, he gently pushes me towards a table. The place is almost empty, the few customers think they are just like us, passing by. In front of them, steaming, are huge omelettes. Large pieces of lightly fried bacon lie next to them, the appetizing smell making me swallow hard.

"The menu of the day and lots of coffee."

Tom orders.

I don't know what the menu of the day is, but those omelettes look amazing. It doesn't even take ten minutes and I wake up in front of me with a plate full of the food I was drooling over a little earlier. Her smell makes me hungry continuously since the last days and my stomach tightens painfully. I pray that I can swallow at least a little, to delight my taste buds with the delicious aroma before I throw it all out. The aromatic perfume of hot coffee soaks me and I sip a small mouthful before eating.

"First the omelette! Coffee later," father Tom scolded me.

I smile guiltily and start paying full attention to the food in front of me. I chew slowly, savoring each sip and fully aware of the risk I expose myself to if I drink in a hurry. When I manage to clear my plate, I get a smile of approval. The hot coffee is delicious and I savor it slowly, enjoying its aroma and fragrance. I close my eyes and remember the quiet mornings when, leaning against his chest, we enjoyed this moment together.

"Are you ready, honey?"

I discreetly wipe my teary eyes and, led by Tom, we leave the restaurant and hit the road. I owe a lot to Tom, for his discretion, does not ask questions, does not expect placid and meaningless conversations.

I don't know where we're going and I'm not even curious to find out, anyway it's not important. Regardless of destination, there is no one and nothing for me, I have no future. All I have left is a short and agonizing life, which is not even worth thinking about.

After a few hours in which we walked almost continuously, interrupted only by my nausea, Tom asked me worriedly:

"I'm almost there. Do you want me to drop you off somewhere, do you have someone to go to?"

It's the first time he's asked me something, and there's a trace of an apology hidden under his concerned voice. On the last sign informing us that we are in the state of Washington, a small town caught my eye.

"Silver Spring."

He looked at me in disbelief but said nothing. Just approve easily.

"It's in my way. I can leave you there."

"Thank you! Thank you so much!"

With his eyes on the road, he caresses my hand and says:

"No problem! I wish I could help you more."

The gentleness and regret in his voice almost knocks me over. What I've been through in the last few days, even a small gesture of compassion is a real balm for the wound in my soul. Or, this man almost saved my miserable life, which although I don't want it anymore, there is an instinct in each of us that makes us unconsciously cling to it.

"You don't even know how much it helped! Maybe I'll get my revenge someday. Who knows?"

He smiles sadly and says:

"Who knows? If you ever go to Montana, I'd love for you to pay me a visit. My wife would love you. She always wanted a girl but we only got boys."

He says the last words laughing and I try to smile with him, I don't want him to misunderstand, but in my soul there is a fierce battle. The word Montana devastated me and I can hardly stop screaming. There is my home, my family, my love, my life! It was... it was! Yes, that's the right word...it was!

I fight with myself and try to calm my shallow breathing, my lungs screaming for more oxygen. Deeply buried, my she-wolf startled. The word has a strong impact on her as well, fueling a weak hope that I, however, lost a long time ago.

The road cuts a forest in two and forks at a certain point, Sligo Creek Park being Tom's destination. He ignores the sign and heads towards Silver Spring.

"Tom, stop! I walk from here." I say.

"How can I leave you here, little girl? There are still two miles to the city!"

"Please, Tom! I need to walk a little alone, to think."

Out of mood and worried, he pulls to the right and looks at me with a frown. Full of an optimism that I don't actually feel, I try to calm the man who offered me help in the last two days.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine!"

"Girl, you don't know anyone here! Let me take you to town, put you up at a motel or a guesthouse. You rest for a day and then you can look for a job."

I take my small luggage on the back seat and before I get down I hug him.

"Thanks, but I'm fine with it, it's not the first time. A little exercise and fresh air will do me good!" Kidding.

Although I didn't convince him, he has nothing to do and leaves me alone. He hugs me and before I go down he tells me once more:

"Take care of yourself!"

"I will have!"

I get out of the car and wait for him to return. I wave at him and look after him until he completely disappears from my visual range and then I let despair take over me.

Heavy and hot tears bathe my cheeks as I take small steps towards the unknown. I feel my weak body twitch every time the smell of earth, leaves and trees resurfaces, bathing my nostrils. The forest draws me into its depths and I make a considerable effort not to venture on the paths that start right next to the side of the road. I am like Odysseus fighting the spell from the song of the sirens. The forest is the place where werewolves feel best, it's their natural environment, it's home!

Every time my steps want to cross the border of the road, persistent and annoying, Tom's voice appears in my mind warning me not to enter the forest.

I've lost the battle in my head, I'm loosening the protection that blocks my soul mate and a dark feeling invades my mind. The bond between us is so strong that I can view Aiden's exact location and condition just like he can. I am effectively in a blocked state and feel the wolf on my neck throbbing painfully. After a long time, I feel my wolf more alive than ever and tormented by unbearable pains, pains that I feel twice as much.

I literally break in two and moan loudly when a sharp knife stops my breathing. His manic and confused voice pierces my brain. He's drunk!

"Why didn't you at least take the money, you i***t w***e?! You will die!"

A strange peace and resignation embraces me. No matter what he thinks I did, he still loves me and is worried. Although it does not change the situation, it is the consolation I need and with an unusually calm voice I ask him:

"What makes you think I want to live?"

*********************

Aiden POV

Almost ten days have passed since I kicked her out of the pack and away from me. Ten days of torment and nightmare in which the only friend I had left was old Jack! The strong, yellowish liquor constantly burned my esophagus, barely making me dizzy.

Sitting in the office chair that has become my bed in the last few days, I look absently at the window in the room, waiting for the sunset. In the shelter of darkness, I leave myself prey to anger and despair, the forest being the place where I can mourn, where I transform and run until exhaustion.

My mother's pain and reproaches echo in my mind even now. The facial disapproval that I read on the face of my commanders follows me, making me sometimes doubt the justice of the decision I made.

Two days after my arrival in the pack, the car, money and most of her clothes were brought to me. Fear, frustration, anger, horror are some of the emotions I felt knowing that she was somewhere, outside, alone, without any means of subsistence and in terrible torment. Even if she blocked my contact with her, I know what she is going through, what she is hurting, what she feels. And I can say that he had some terrible days, something that didn't bring me any relief even then, I thought so. Her punishment is also my punishment and the fact that in addition to hunger, thirst, pain, fear when she was going to be r***d, triggered a fit of rage that terrified the whole pack. It took five men to keep me from destroying the office and the house.

The glass in front of me is almost empty but I'm too drunk to pour myself another. After ten days of drunkenness, I was finally proven. I close my eyes and try to give him a wall of resistance. I almost fall off my chair when I find the fallen barriers. Cry! Suffer! She is scared and disoriented! She is so alone!

I can't help but growl at her:

"Why didn't you at least take the money, you i***t w***e?! You will die!"

At first it stays put, then it breaks under a terrible pain. Involuntarily, I breathe with her and realize I'm actually suffocating, my lungs contracting in heavy breathing. When I'm down and collapsing from lack of oxygen, my breathing is regulated and a strange stillness comes over me, then suddenly shattered by the frightening but calm words:

"What makes you think I want to live?"

Getting mad and without thinking, I say:

"I don't want you to die yet! I want to torture you!"

I regret it as soon as I finish saying it and I would give anything to take them back. Surprised by the cruelty of the words, she seemed lost in the face. The image before her unfolds in slow motion and I am horrified to hear the resignation and joy in her voice:

"Fortunately for me and unfortunately for you, your wish comes true faster."

A hard red bullet hits her and as her head thumps the asphalt, a terrifying pain goes through my brain. When I come to and realize what has happened, the pitiful howl that breaks the silence is terrifying and destructive. I don't even feel shards hurtling my face as the prey of terror throws me out the window and, transforming, effectively flies into the forest, leaving the terrified people behind. The word he yells is:

"Silverrrrrrr!!!"