Chapter 2 #2
After that, I knew I was going to need to figure out some sort of housing.
Possibly long term but that wasn’t my plan.
It still isn’t, but I need to make sure I’m covered in case it becomes that way.
So, I started looking at RVs. Nothing brand new, not if I could help it because I didn’t want all the bells and whistles, or to draw attention to myself, but the more I looked, the more unrealistic some of that seemed.
I was going to have to buy something that would cost a huge chunk of the money I was trying to save if I wanted more than a pop up on the back of the truck.
I would have been fine with that if it was a little more long-term friendly but it isn’t if I want to be able to eat.
Well, store enough food to get me through a few months since I don’t know how or if I’ll be bringing in any kind of cash to replace what I use.
So, a nearly full-size fridge and storage space for dry goods felt necessary, but I still didn’t think I’d be able to make that happen without drawing unwanted attention.
There was no fucking way I was going to a dealer, not with all my new name shit that would have to be run for legal titles and whatnot.
I was starting to get discouraged until I heard about the police auction.
That’s where I was able to get myself a twenty-three foot Airstream Trade Wind RV for less than thirty thousand dollars.
It’s a little bigger than I originally intended but it has everything I wanted in something I might be calling home for a while.
A large fridge with freezer, microwave and stove top, a little table where I can work, a bathroom with the works.
It can sleep four, I think, but it has a queen-size bed, and I can essentially turn that little area into my nest if I need to.
Pulling it with my Dodge RAM adds a little space, too.
I’ve got way too many propane tanks loaded in the bed right now but who knows when I can get more, and knowing I can fit that many is great.
Plus, there’s a lot of storage space, inside and out.
Apparently it belonged to a couple who were drug runners for a local ring, so they modified a few things to make room for all the bricks of heroin. Which only benefits me because of the other big purchases I’ve been making recently.
The RV is kind of perfect and a really easy solution, if I’m being honest. I paid cash for it so I didn’t have to give out any info, and they were able to handle the paperwork at the shelter, complete with a legit plate in my new name.
It has solar panels for electricity, the heat is propane, and water tanks mean I’m okay to stop without an immediate source if it comes down to it.
I don’t need to worry about that right now, though.
I throw my truck in park and shut it off before I hop out, walking around my little campsite to make sure everything is up to snuff.
There’s a fresh water source I can hook right up to the camper, that way I don’t have to use the tanks, and I can use that to top them off before I leave.
They also have a power source I can plug into, which might be helpful since this is a pretty shady spot and I’m not sure my solar panels will pick up enough light to keep me going.
According to their web site, they also have WiFi hot spots everywhere, so I should be able to work a little after I’m settled, too.
This might not be so bad. I could get used to something like this. Off-grid, private, pretty secure. That’s not a terrible way to live outside of the shelter.
But damn, if I thought I was a nomad before, this really drives the point home.
After a couple of laps to get a layout of the area, I lock down my RV and hook it up to the various amenities before putting up the window shades in the truck, lock that, then decide I should head inside.
I’m getting hungrier by the second, I’m probably going on twenty-four hours without anything in my gut at this point, but I think my adrenaline crash might mean a nap is in order before I eat.
Granted, it’s after midnight thanks to waiting around to say goodbye to an omega who clearly didn’t give a shit if I did, so I should just eat then go to bed so I can get back on the road as soon as possible.
When we left New York and decided to come to Minnesota, I didn’t think it was going to be quite like this.
I mean, I knew about the weather and how it was similar to what I’m used to, but Thief River Falls is nothing like any of the places I lived in NY state.
It was quiet and tiny, very secluded comparatively speaking, and that entire town had this vibe that made you feel like you were a million miles from civilization.
Minneapolis is an entirely different beast.
It’s a big one, at that, and of course my first and only lead would be clear on the opposite side of the city from where I’ve been hiding the last two years.
Four hundred miles just to see if any of the questions I’ve had for so long can be answered, and I shit out after the first two because I’m pouting and hangry.
Whatever, it’s fine. Knowing my limits is important, and making sure I take care of myself along the way is, too. Can’t seek vengeance if I’m overtired and underfed.
Shaking my head, I pull the keys from my pocket and open the door before I drop the single step and unlock the screen.
A hot shower sounds good.
I’ve been so tense and stressed out, maybe that should be the first thing I do. Then I can hop online while I eat, and crash for a while.
That actually sounds like a very solid plan. I’m surprised I came up with it.
I snort as I lock both doors behind me then walk toward the bedroom, pulling open the accordion door divide as I start to undress.
One of the other things I really like about this RV is how private it is. There are plenty of windows to let in natural light during the day but they all have heavy duty curtains and without opening them or turning on any lights, it’s pretty dark.
I like that. A lot.
I pull my shirt up over my head and yawn, scrubbing my hands over my face as that crash takes hold, then I reach up and take my hair down.
Shaking out the dark brown strands as I unhook my bra, I drop everything on the bed so I don’t forget to put them away later but just when I bend over to unlace my boots, a light turns on behind me.
On instinct, I spin and throw my combat boot and unsheath my Bowie knife at the same time, not giving one goddamn my tits are out when I lift it in the air as someone steps out of the bathroom on the other side of the RV.
“The boot and blade have nothing on your diversion tactics.”
“You asshole,” I hiss at Niko and cover my chest, the jerk standing there grinning at me while he dries off his hands. “What the hell are you doing? You scared the shit out of me.”
He sets the hand towel by the sink then pops his hip against the counter. “I was taking a piss. Now I’m standing here.” He motions to the floor like I can’t see it. “Talking to you while your tits are out.”
I scowl and spin toward the bed, snatching my shirt and tugging it on quickly. “Despite what you might think, I can see that you’re standing here, but I want to know why.”
“I told you,” Niko says as he crosses his arms against his chest. “I didn’t like the idea of you doing this alone.”
”So, what? You decide to stow away in my fucking RV for two-hundred miles before scaring the shit out of me?”
“Essentially, yes. Though, scaring you wasn’t an intended part of the plan.”
“Good to know,” I grumble.
He did scare the hell out of me and I’m annoyed at him for that, but I’m more annoyed over how stupidly happy I am to see him.
I know it can’t all be because I wasn't really ready to leave the shelter, that I’m glad he’s here just because I was nervous to go out on my own.
Not when having him here makes me feel one-thousand times better, can it?
I’m never really happy to see anyone, and I don’t exactly care about having company.
If I’d wanted it, I would have invited him along in the first place, but I didn’t, so I’m going to ignore how having Niko here does actually make me feel better.
How it makes me happy. How he makes me happy.
I’m going to ignore all of that and focus on the fact that I’m probably just relieved he’s not some serial killer lurking in my RV.
That’s it. I’m just happy he’s not going to murder me.
God, I sound so stupid. Even to myself.
I hate to admit it, like most things related to this man, but I’m happy Niko’s here because it means I’m not alone, and I thought I was going to miss him.
Once I was done being mad at him, anyway.
But that still doesn’t explain why my stomach is full of butterflies right now.
Or why my heart is pounding so hard I’m worried he might hear it.
No, that’s something else entirely, something that is fueling this ridiculously elated feeling I have, and I’d much rather all of it stop so I can go back to interrogating him.
Unfortunately, I can tell it’s not going to. Not when this asshat smiles at me like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
Why does he have this effect on me?
My pack is dead and I’m not allowed to be affected by anyone else. Especially when I’m on a mission looking for who killed the alphas I loved. I made that rule two years ago and if this idiot hadn’t shown up shortly after that, I’d have a much easier time adhering to it.
Ugh.
That’s something else I’m going to have to explain now. While I told him I had to leave, that it was time, I kept the details very vague.
Niko hijacked my trip but he doesn’t know why I’m taking it in the first place, and the last thing I want to do is explain it to him.
I’m going to have to, though. I have no idea how dangerous things could get, and the last thing I want to do is have this stupid, sensitive, beautiful man get hurt because of me.
All denial aside, I really, genuinely care about him, probably too much, and it’s not fair to keep him in the dark if it puts him at risk.
Three is enough bodies on my conscience, I don’t need a fourth.