into the second wrapper, my combat boots screech to a stop. I stare at Trucker, who’s currently driving away. Without me.
“Hey!” I start sprinting for him, and we lock eyes as I run perpendicular to the truck, trying to catch up. “What the fuck?” I yell. Everyone around looks over, but I don’t care.
Trucker leans an elbow out of his open window and holds out his hand in a shrug gesture. “Well, whaddya expect? You shoulda been friendlier and sucked my goddamn dick!” he hollers back.
I keep running, but he turns out of the parking lot and onto the highway, so I’m forced to stop before I get nailed by a car. “I knew it!” I scream at his retreating tires. “I knew you were fucking propositioning me, you asshole!”
In reply, I get a finger out the window, and then he’s gone, settled in the traffic and too far away to see. Huffing, I stand in the middle of the gas station driveway until a car honks at me to move. “Oh, go pop a tire,” I snap before stalking back toward the gas station.
I’m irritated but resigned...until I remember that I left my bag in his truck.
“Son of a dick!” I curse, thoroughly and completely pissed off.
I have even less than I did five minutes ago, and that was bare scrapings. Now, I have nothing but what’s currently on my body or in my hands.
I stand on the sidewalk in front of the gas station, seething and looking around at the place I just got stranded in. I guess this is where I stop. I can’t waste money on more bus tickets, and maybe the universe is telling me none too subtly that I’m supposed to be abandoned here. I guess this place is as good as any. I can’t run forever. I need to settle in a place where I can rest my head.
“You need a ride, sweet thing?”
My head turns to look at the new trucker in all his faded blue jeans and trucker hat glory.
“Do I fucking look sweet to you?”
He blinks in surprise, not expecting that response at all. His eyes take me in, like he’s only now really seeing me, rather than only noticing tits and an ass. “No, I guess not,” he says, wheezing out a laugh. “Guess that makes you a bad girl. You want a ride? That’s my rig over there,” he tells me, nodding toward his truck.
“I’ve hit my limit with truckers for the time being, but thanks for the offer.”
He looks only partly disappointed. “Suit yourself.” He walks off, leaving me to hesitate as to what to do next. Looks like this place is my new home base for the time being, so I need to get my bearings.
I straighten up, brush off the fact that I lost my only other set of clothes, forget about the pervert truck driver, and get ready to deal with my next hurdle. Staying here. Wherever here is.
In some ways, being a drifter was easier. Now I have to stay put and figure shit out, and that’s even more daunting. But, just like when I’m on stage, I know how to fake it until I make it.
So I pick up one foot after another, and I walk. I’ll learn the town. Get a way to make money. Find a place to stay. I’ll figure everything out as I go.
At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.
I sleep in the cold ass woods for three nights.
It’s mountainous here, so the elevation makes the nights plummet in temperature. Thank shifter shits that I at least had my jacket on me and didn’t leave it in my bag with the rest of my stuff. That would’ve sucked. Honestly, I should’ve known better than to leave anything behind, but I was just too distracted.
Every day, I meander around the town—which is apparently named Edgeland—and get accustomed to it.
It’s a decently sized place, with a mix of rural and metropolitan areas. I stick to the downtown area right off the one and only highway, and get a hold on all of the buildings as I sniff out what kinds of people live here.
Luckily, I haven’t smelled any Cane breeds at all, which is better luck than I could’ve hoped for. I can hide out here, and no one will be the wiser.
I hit up a dollar store two days ago and managed to snag plenty of cheap food. I gorged myself because I was sick of being so damn