11. Indigo
eleven
Indigo
“Can you believe it?”
“Oh my goodness!”
The voices are starting to register, their enthusiastic exclamations getting on my nerves. My eyes return to the map spread in front of me over the small table by the reception. I need a game plan.
My plan is not the most sophisticated, but I still think it is a good one. I decided that it is smart to hide in plain sight, so I headed to Dallas. Among that many people and scents, I have more chances to escape the pack that surely is already looking for me.
The only thing I didn’t count on was how tiring it would be to drive for the first time with all this tension resting on my shoulders.
As the hours ticked by and night bled into day, my whole body screamed for a rest. It wasn’t safe to keep driving, so I never really reached Dallas, but I’m damn close.
Another problem of being this close to a big city is that everything here is expensive. No more cheap motels beside the road. This place is actually nice. So I guess I overlooked two things.
My stomach growls, a clear reminder that I might have rested for a few hours, but all I had when I hopped off the bed were the two apples I took from dinner.
Money is nonexistent at this point, and honestly, it was pure luck that a kind woman was at the front desk and let me stay even though I could only pay with cash and didn’t have a single form of ID. I bet she thinks I’m in trouble.
My eyes squeeze in regret. I hate lying. Though I think accidentally scent-matching with a pack mere months after I was rescued is the definition of trouble, I know I’ve been in actual dire situations. I brush the hair off my face and leave the guilt behind. I need a plan. A good plan.
“Come on, Camila, take a picture. Can you believe this?”
Whatever is happening outside is gathering a lot of attention and starting to annoy me.
Another bad thing about hiding in plain sight is that this place is popular.
There’s a nice pool and a proper restaurant, and with that, there are tourists with a bunch of accents I’ve only heard on TV.
It’s all very fascinating, if it wasn’t annoying to deal with excited people when I’m anything but.
“Cowboys! I guess we are in Texas!” Camila, I’m guessing, laughs in response.
My head snaps up and my eyes narrow. Uneasiness spreads over my body, causing goose bumps to erupt.
Suddenly, I can’t ignore whatever they are gushing over.
Abandoning my map and plan, I carefully step out of the building among the rest of the guests.
The sun beats down unforgivably, and I have to lift my hand to shield my eyes.
Oh shit.
On the horizon, galloping against the dry landscape of Texas are three honest-to-god cowboys. And they are coming for me.
“Fuck! Fuck!”
The woman beside me stops fanning herself to scowl at me, as if I interrupted her personal porn.
I don’t judge. They look incredible. Hank is in his usual uniform of black T-shirt, pants, and cowboy hat, though I swear that T-shirt is a size too small because his muscles are bulging while holding the horse’s reins.
Cassidy’s plaid shirt is similar to mine, powerful thighs spread, and I start to wonder if they were actually always that big or if it got worse since I matched with them.
And then Nash. Can someone be this dreamy?
I can’t see his whole face from here, though I have it memorized, and when those lips curve in a smirk? I know he’s looking straight at me.
A zing of heat travels fast from the small of my back to the nape of my neck, and I have to swallow a whimper. This is not going to work for me. No way.
“Indigo!”
My name on Cassidy’s tongue is a wake-up call.
They found me. I can’t hang around drooling.
I turn around and make my way inside, not giving a fuck when I bump into guests in my hurry to escape.
I’m such a jerk. I don’t stop to apologize, but honestly there’s no time.
I run to the elevators, cursing as I press the button nonstop as if it will come quicker if it can sense my desperation.
When the doors open, I jump in, scaring the couple coming out, but I keep my head down and press the number five maniacally until the door closes.
How did they find me so quickly?
Sure, I expected them to be looking for me, but with the time they had and the fact that they are on horses makes me feel like they just came straight here.
Actually, since we are on that…why the fuck are they on horses?
I remember vividly that there was another truck left in the parking lot when I left.
My feet tap the floor, releasing the pent-up energy. The heat is messing with my head, and it doesn’t help when they come over here looking like the main character of a dirty novel.
When I finally reach the fifth floor, I throw myself into the hall and run for my room with shaking hands.
As I swipe the card and the doors unlock, sadness takes residence inside.
This was such a comfortable bed, such a nice place.
I know my trash bag, and I don’t belong here, but I wish I could have at least twelve hours of pretending.
How many times will I have to do this?
My eyes well with tears as I clutch the trash bag against my chest and leave the room.
I run for the emergency stairs, not even considering returning to the reception.
My heartbeat climbs as I make my descent, hoping that the Goddess is watching over me and I lose the three Alphas who can scent me anywhere I go. I’m so fucked.
Sweat coats my skin, and I’m not sure if it’s the fear or just this damn heat that keeps escalating. The image of them galloping toward me flickers through my mind, and I grip the handrail, almost tumbling down due to my wobbly knees.
Why do they have to be so hot?
I’m attracted to them, and it’s not just because of the scent-matching.
Let’s be honest, there was a reason I hated Hank’s sheer size and stupid mustache.
Cassidy annoyed me with that smirk, and Nash made me sick just by looking at me with those sweet brown eyes.
After everything I went through, all I wanted was to run far away, live in a remote cabin somewhere, and never interact with another person again.
My hermit dreams do not include three gigantic Alphas whom I can’t think of anything but to kiss senseless.
Heat, stupid horses and cowboy hats. Fuck it all.
There’s a scream lodged inside my throat, like a piece of fruit that refuses to go down.
I reach the ground floor, hands shaking and eyes over my shoulder, expecting the pack to burst in and jump on me.
When this particular nightmare doesn’t come true, I let out a breath and push open the heavy fire-safe door leading to the parking lot.
The sun filters in, blinding me for a moment before all the hair on my body stands, and I’m face-to-face with them.
“Oh look, it’s Sour Peach.”
Arms folded in front of their wide chests are Cassidy, Hank, and Nash. And the three damn horses.
Fuck.