Chapter 20
Twenty
Neil
It turns out the Rockcastle pack is located nearly a thousand miles away in Kentucky on the border of some National Forest. The route we plan out is a bit convoluted, but it will get us where we need to go while minimizing the risk of drawing attention to ourselves.
There are way too many cameras these days, especially at toll plazas, so we’ll stay off major highways as much as possible and avoid any toll roads like the plague.
It’s only a matter of time before Danny’s body is discovered, and they’ll quickly realize the truck registered in his name is missing.
There’s already a picture of Danny’s license plate from that red light camera in Vegas floating around somewhere.
The last thing we need is our only source of transportation being used to track us down, so the first stop on our little road trip needs to be somewhere I can take care of that particular issue.
Stealing cars has never been my thing, but it was my dad’s and, at one point, he hoped I’d follow in his footsteps. He taught me one of the easiest ways to avoid getting caught in a stolen vehicle is to get rid of the license plates by switching them with another car.
People will definitely notice if their car is gone and are likely to notice if their license plates are missing.
However, they don’t often check to make sure the license plates on their car are actually theirs.
As long as there’s a license plate on the car—something people expect to see—most car owners don’t bother paying attention to what the plate says.
Unfortunately, the pickings in the motel parking lot are slim, and there aren’t enough cars for me to pull a switcheroo on a couple plates without being noticed.
Especially since there’s a very large, very naked man in our party.
Blake’s lack of clothes does help us pick a place to stop, though. Big box stores not only sell cheap clothes, but they also tend to have large parking lots with plenty of license plate options, allowing us to kill two birds with one stone or whatever.
The closest option is about twenty miles away, so we load back into the truck and head out. I’m back in the driver’s seat, Raquel’s up front with me, acting as navigator, and poor Blake is crammed into the back with only a stolen motel towel to protect his modesty.
Thirty minutes later, we arrive in a moderately crowded parking lot.
I grin when I see the two pickup trucks near the back corner of the lot.
Switching plates between similar vehicle types is ideal and, with two other trucks, I can confuse things further by changing the plates of all three vehicles.
I park between the two trucks, then turn to Raquel. “Are you okay to go inside for the clothes while I play musical license plates?”
“I’m the only option, aren’t I? You have to be here to do your magic.” She gives me a wry grin and jerks her thumb in Blake’s direction. “And as much as I can’t complain about the eye candy, other people might.”
I laugh. “I suppose you’re right.”
Spinning in her seat to face Blake, she asks, “Any requests? Fabrics? Colors?”
“Anything is fine,” he says in a low voice. “I’m not picky.” He glances up at her from under his brows, shooting her a small, shy smile, the expression almost out of place on such a large, imposing man. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” she says softly, then flashes him a gentle smile and jumps out of the truck to head across the parking lot and into the store.
“I’m going for it,” I say to Blake. “Knock on the window if you see anyone besides Raquel headed over here.”
“Will do.”
I slip out of the driver’s seat and walk around behind the white pickup to the right.
Lacking a screwdriver, I let my claws lengthen and use one to loosen the bolts holding the license plates in place.
I quickly exchange the plates on Danny’s truck for the new ones, then put Danny’s plates on the second truck, and replace the first truck’s plates with the ones from the second truck.
That done, I hop back into the truck, turning around in my seat to give Blake a sympathetic look.
He’s frowning, a disgruntled expression on his face, and his shoulders practically hunched up to his ears due to the lack of space in the back seat.
It’s certainly not made for a man his size, but the back windows have some tint to them so the miles of skin on display won’t draw anyone’s attention.
Well, anyone’s besides mine anyway. And my wolf’s of course.
I might not know him well—or much at all really—but there’s no denying I’m attracted to him, and the fact that we’re fated mates makes the draw toward him even stronger.
Fate can’t force us into anything, but there’s a clear biological pull, an urge to get closer.
If it were up to my wolf, Blake and I probably would have already completed the bond.
As if reading my mind, he looks up. He meets my gaze and holds it, heat flaring in his eyes, tongue darting out to lick his lips. The naked hunger in his stare stokes an inferno in my body, my wolf whining and urging me closer closer closer.
I shift in my seat, my cock suddenly uncomfortably hard in the confines of these stupid pants and let out a soft whimper—one that sounds more lupine than human.
Why, exactly, are we waiting again?
We could do this right now. Right here. My mate’s already naked. All I’d need to do is—
The driver’s door opens, and since my back is half leaning on the damn thing, I nearly tumble out on to the asphalt, only managing to avoid that fate because Raquel helps steady me with one hand.
“Distracted?” she asks, a hint of amusement in her voice.
Heat filling my cheeks, I shoot her a dirty look over my shoulder but don’t bother with a denial.
Because I was very much distracted. Worse, I didn’t even realize it.
My wolf was so focused on Blake that the rest of the world became only background noise.
That kind of mindless distraction could be really bad under certain circumstances.
Like, say, being on the run.
My wolf, closer to my more primal instincts, doesn’t much care, but I can’t let biology make me reckless.
I thought I understood the pull of the fated mate bond, but I didn’t expect it to be so strong, so overwhelming.
It’s obvious, the bond will keep urging us toward completion—no pun intended—but until I’m ready for that I need to get my head in the game or whatever stupid sports metaphor is appropriate.
I give myself a shake, willing my erection to go away. Now is definitely not the time.
Raquel coughs out a poorly hidden laugh. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, my gaze sliding to the bag swinging from her hand. “Oh good! Clothes.”
“Well, that is what I went in there for,” she says slowly. She reaches past me to toss the bag toward the backseat. “Here you go, big guy.”
Blake catches the bag easily. He immediately goes through it, pulling out a pair of simple gray sweatpants. He holds them up, the corners of his mouth twitching as he raises his brows.
“Really?” I say. “Gray sweatpants?”
“I mean, there are boxers in there too,” she says to Blake, a mischievous curl to her lips. “Don’t feel the need to go commando on Neil’s account—or mine.”
I rest my forehead in my palm and shake my head. If she wasn’t my best friend, I might be a little jealous how interested she is in checking out my mate. “You’re ridiculous.”
“But awesome,” she retorts.
“If you say so.”
“I do say so.”
Blake is silent as he watches our exchange, but there’s an amused twist to his lips as he awkwardly pulls the clothes on in the tiny backseat, his elbow banging against the back window more than once.
Once he’s clothed, he unfolds himself from the backseat and walks a couple laps around the truck to stretch his legs.
“Thanks again,” he says, stopping by Raquel.
“No problem,” she says with a grin. “Now, I think it’s about time to hit the road.”
Raquel climbs into the backseat over Blake’s protests, informing him in a no-nonsense tone that he’s twice her size and needs the space. My mate doesn’t seem to entirely agree, but he takes the front passenger seat while I, once again, get in the driver’s seat.
We hit up a gas station to fuel up and grab some snacks, then get on the road. The somewhat late start means we won’t get that far today, but any distance we manage to put between us and Vegas is good. The farther away we get, the more likely we’ll be out of Doyle’s reach.
Five hundred miles or so later, our second night on the road finds us at a roadside motel nearly identical to the last, as far as amenities and atmosphere goes.
But the room has two beds and hot water, so I’m not complaining too much, especially since I get to curl up with my mate on one of those beds.
Although we won’t be completing the bond tonight, the closeness helps placate some of its stronger urges.
Plus there’s just something about being wrapped in his arms, his big body curled around my back that fills me with a kind of contentment I’ve never known.
The three of us fall asleep quickly, and the next morning, we’re back on the road before the sun even comes up.
Another long day of driving brings us to our next stop in Oklahoma.
Money is still tight, so we’re stuck at another run-down motel for the night.
A late-night argument between one of our shady motel neighbors means we’re roused well before the sun, and given that the shouting doesn’t appear to be ending any time soon, we pack up and head out.
Our fourth night on the road, Raquel decides we should spring for something a little nicer: two stars instead of one, and two adjoining rooms instead of sharing a single. My agreement is reluctant, but also relieved.
If Blake and I don’t get some alone time soon, my wolf is going to riot.
Despite sleeping together every night, and the close quarters of the truck, the uncompleted mate bond has started to itch under my skin.
It’s not painful, just uncomfortable, but I think the underlying tension has started to grate even on Raquel.
As soon as we’ve secured our rooms, Raquel disappears into her’s, waving at me over her shoulder and telling me not to do anything she wouldn’t do.
And then Blake and I are truly alone for the first time since… well, pretty much ever.
It’s a lot more awkward than I expected.
We might have spent the last few nights wrapped in each other’s arms, but we still don’t truly know each other.
Now there’s that heavy weight of not knowing what the hell to say combined with the kind of dance you have to do around someone you don’t know that well.
Both aspects of this situation are made even more awkward by my wolf urging me to get naked, climb into Blake’s lap, and ride him.
Bad wolf.
What’s worse is with Blake’s rather stoic demeanor, it’s really hard to tell what he’s thinking or feeling, which makes things—you guessed it—even more awkward.
He’s polite, friendly, and even sweet sometimes, but he’s not the most talkative person.
He’s spent most of the time in the truck watching the world passing outside the windows, only joining the conversation occasionally, mostly with one- or two-word responses.
Whether that’s because of the whole stuck as a wolf for years thing or because that’s just the kind of person he always was, I have no idea.
But I guess it’s time I found out.