109
Tank
I stop briefly, to drop the sleeping thug off in the woods behind a gas station. I leave some extra cash in the guy’s wallet and prop him against a tree.
Foxfire’s quiet as I turn the truck in the direction of the last-known whereabouts of her mother’s trailer.
I can’t figure out how she makes me do such crazy things. Like letting her blow me while I’m driving. With a mob enforcer in the bed of the truck. And a suspicious cop ready to look in the window.
Fates, it’s a goddamn miracle I’m not in a jail cell right now for kidnapping and assault. My dad always warned me, “Females are our downfall. Mark my words, son, so you don’t find out the hard way.” He didn’t mention how he learned the hard way. He didn’t have to.
“There it is.” Foxfire sits up straight, pointing to the silver bullet-shaped trailer on the edge of national forest land. “But her vehicle isn’t there, so I don’t think she’s home.”
“Seriously?” I mutter. The trailer has a field of poppies painted on its side. Granted, the poppies are beautiful-very intricate and artistic-but still. Foxfire’s mom is a total hippie. Now I know where Foxfire got the crazies.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. How long has she been here?”
“A few years. She likes the energy.” Foxfire goes to open her door, but I motion for her to stop.
“Wait here, baby.”
For once, she doesn’t give me any lip.
I approach cautiously, sniffing the air. Incense, lavender or some other hippie oils. Normal human smells, blended with the wilderness scent. But something else. Cigarette ash.
“Is your mom a smoker?” I ask when I go back to the truck.
“You mean, like, pot?”
“Tobacco.”
“No way.”
“When did you last see her?”
Foxfire thinks for a bit. “Maybe last Thanksgiving? Or the year before that. Wait, what year is it?”
“Never mind.”
I open her door.
“Thank you.” Her cheeks color. Her nipples press against her shirt. I’ve got to get her thicker clothes. No one should see that sweet body but me.
Not that I’m claiming her.
She grabs a jacket out of her bag and tugs it on. She’s still in her Daisy Dukes, so she looks fully ridiculous. And hot.
As we approach the trailer, the door creaks open.
“Mom?” Foxfire calls.
I hold out my hand to stop her. “Does she usually leave it wide open?”
“Not usually, but she rarely locks it. Says anyone who steals from her needs it more than she does.” Foxfire shrugs. “She doesn’t own much.”
Lots and lots of windchimes, and dream catchers hung from the awning and in the trees around.
I walk inside. The place is a wreck. Not just messy, but trashed. I’m about to ask Foxfire if this is typical of her mom’s housekeeping, when she lets out a sob.
“Mom?”
We search, but no one is there. I try to get a scent of the place, but it’s too clogged with the smell of burnt sage. I cough and step outside to clear my head. That’s when I notice what’s in the dirt beside the door.
Boot prints.
“Does your mom have a man?” I ask Foxfire when she wanders out. “Someone who smokes?”
“She’d never date a smoker. She hates Big Tobacco.”
I show her the prints with the cigarette ash. “Someone was here.”
“They came for her, like they came for me. She’s in trouble, Tank. I know she is.”
“Maybe not. You said her car isn’t here, right? Maybe she’s hiding somewhere.” I wrap my arms around her. I want to comfort her, but all I can think about is how Foxfire is with me, safe, when she would otherwise be in danger.
It takes me a moment to realize she’s pushing at my chest.
“Let me go,” she says, and takes all the space I give her. She wraps her arms around herself and walks away.
Damn, she blames me. I kept her from getting the phone call from her mom last night.
“Foxfire-” I jog to catch her arm, but she twists it out of my grasp.
I release her, let her scuttle away. I don’t want to hurt her. I want to comfort her.
“Leave me alone,” she snaps, and runs toward the pine trees.
“Foxfire, no.” I use every ounce of alpha command I can muster. She can’t turn into a fox. Not here-there are cars zooming by just a few hundred feet away.
I find her facing a tree, her fists clenched.
“Come on,” she whispers. “Come on.”
She’s calling on her fox, but her animal won’t give her release. Not until I allow it.
“Foxfire, it’s okay. We’ll find her.”
“She’s my mom. She’s the only family I have. If something happened to her, I have no one. No one. I’m all alone.”
“Hush.” I pull her into my arms, scoop her up to carry her back to the truck. Without thinking, I kiss her temple. “You have me.”
~.~
Foxfire
I watch mom’s trailer disappear behind us as we drive away. It’s chilly, but that’s not why I’m shivering.
I couldn’t shift. My fox sits inside me, waiting, but she wouldn’t come out and let me escape my panic for a moment.
Figures. I’m a freak of a human, so why wouldn’t my fox be broken? Foxfire, a shifter who can’t even shift.
I barely notice where Tank is driving until he parks on a forest road. We’re not in Flagstaff or near civilization.
“Come on,” he says.
“Where are we going?”
“We’re going for a run.”
“Here? Now?”
“This is a national forest.”
“It’s almost dusk.”
He pulls his shirt off and tosses it in the front seat. “We’ll run in the moonlight.” He strips out of his jeans. My mouth goes dry. “You coming?” He’s almost naked.
“You should take your clothes off first. Less wear and tear. Trust me.”
I give him a small smile.
It’s chilly in the cool spring air.
“Come here.” He gathers me in his arms.
He’s so strong and warm. Super warm. After a minute, I relax against him.
“There you go, baby,” he murmurs.
I shut my eyes and melt into his strong arms. A barrier between me and the world. A girl could get used to this. If I’m smart, I won’t.
“You ready?”
“I can’t. I can’t do it.”
“I know. I stopped you back there with alpha command. You were panicked, and it wasn’t a good idea. But we’re safe here.”
Safe. With Tank.This content © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.
“I don’t… I don’t know-”
“Call her, baby. Call your fox. Just relax.”
“What if she doesn’t come?”
“She will.” He dips his head and kisses me. When his lips break away, his eyes glint amber. “Now, Foxfire.” His voice holds that same authority he used before.
My body shivers at the order, and he steps away.
The world changes. The cold and my chilled flesh swirl away. I’m on all fours, low to the ground, but it feels right.
I blink at the giant black wolf with yellow eyes facing me. He trots over and licks my muzzle until the tingles are out of my limbs. I take a step, hesitate. Tank nudges my side.
And we’re off. Running. Sometimes Tank’s in the lead, sometimes he’s behind me.
I race, but I take many steps to his single loping stride.
I find a few tight places to hide, but he flushes me out.
The sun dies, and the moon rises. The chill bites through my fur, but it feels good. Makes me want to hunt and feast before burrowing and curling up in my den.
Wolf runs alongside, bumping lightly against my shoulder. He wants me to turn back. I feint and dodge him and keep running. He knocks me off my feet, stands over me. His growl rumbles through me.
I roll on my back, tilt up my neck, offering my vulnerable side in submission. He licks my face and raises his head. With a groan, he morphs into a man, still crouching over me.
“Come on,” he says. “Back to the truck.”
Still in fox form, I rise to my feet. For a second, I consider darting into the darkness. He couldn’t chase me.
A large hand grabs the scruff of my neck, and I yelp. Tank lifts me and fixes me with a dominant stare. I hang limp as a kit.
“Back to the truck,” he orders again, and drops me on all fours.
I trot beside him obediently, and hop into the truck bed when he opens it. After tugging on his jeans and laying a blanket over the cold metal, he climbs in after me.
“Shift, Foxfire,” he commands, and my body obeys. For a brutal moment, the world contorts, every inch of me changing with a shock of sudden pain that leaves almost as soon as it came. I hadn’t noticed the pain last time. When it’s gone, I lie on the blanket, my limbs jerking with the sensation.
“It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs, but doesn’t touch me. I’m grateful. My skin is so sensitive.
He pulls out a meat stick, holding it for me to take a bite. He hands me a water bottle and finishes getting dressed while I sip.
Finally, I find my voice.
“Cold.” I shudder.
He sets my clothes down beside me and pulls me into his arms.
“You did good, baby.”
Twenty minutes later, I sit at a picnic table inside a barbecue place while Tank orders. He comes back carrying enough food for six people, including extra containers of meat.
I grab one immediately and dig in without bothering to add sauce. “So good.” My fox is happy. Tank follows suit, eating steadily through a container of meat then starting on a sandwich. He throws away the buns. If anyone’s watching, they must think we’re half-starved hikers on some crazy high protein diet.
Tank opens the last container, and my eyes light up at the rack of ribs. He waits until I’ve had my fill before he gestures for me to slide the container over. He picks through it, strips the rest of their meat, and gnaws the bones while I lick my fingers, content.
“Full,” I tell him, and he gives a satisfied grunt. He watches me as he finishes off the ribs, and I get the feeling he wants to devour me.
Happy shiver.
I go wash my hands and refill my drink. When I return, he snags me to his side. He sits straddling the bench, pulling me in so my back is to his front. I protest a little when he steals a sip of my drink, but mostly I lean back, content.
Outside the window hangs a swollen moon and a sky full of stars.
Tank is large and solid under me. His hand splays across my midriff, rubbing absently. I really like cuddling with him.
“I’ve never would’ve thought you were so touchy-feely.”
“Mmm. It’s a wolf thing.”
I smile to myself. Yeah, right.
“We like touch,” he continues. He speaks in a low voice because there are people around. I get a thrill of being included in the we.
“I’ve never been that into cuddling.”
“You’ve never been around your kind.”
“Will I ever be able to… make the change… on my own?”
“A little practice, You’ll be fine. This is harder for you, because you weren’t raised around your kin.”
“I’m glad I have you.”
He doesn’t say anything.
Ouch.
Right. He might be with me in this moment, but he makes no promises.
My stomach tightens, but I shrug it off. I’ll just have to take what I can get. “I had fun tonight,” I tell him.
He grunts. “You’re just as naughty a fox as you are a human.”
I grin at him.
He shakes his head, lips quirking.
“You gonna punish me?”
“Yep.”
Squee!