Tristan followed her directions as she led him on a backtrack path from Renee’s town, which was where Spencer would’ve had to drive through to get to her parents’ place out further in the country.
“What do you think happened?” she asked as the dark, vast void and long stretch of country road with no painted stripes stretched before them.
“Not sure,” he said. “Maybe just broke down outta’ cell range.” He hoped this was true.
“Renee was so upset. She’s usually so calm about things.”
“She really likes him, huh?” he asked her.
She nodded. “Yes, I think she does. Renee isn’t the kind of person to give her heart over easily, either. I think she might be falling for him.”
“What about you? Do you give your heart easily?” he asked because his mouth was moving faster than he could control it.
“Um, no. Actually, never,” she admitted as if she were embarrassed.
“Never? No boyfriends or hookups?” Tristan wanted to groan. That was not an appropriate thing to ask a girl, not one like Avery Andersson, Swedish bikini model status confirmed as he’d ogled her in one earlier. Damn. That image of her was going to stay burned into his brain for a long time to come, her coming out of that steamy hot tub in nothing but a string bikini with her hair piled on top of her head.
“Hookups? Geesh. No, I-I don’t…” she faded off, shaking her head and offering an uncomfortable little chuckle.
“Okay, not a one-night stand kind of girl. I kinda’ figured that anyway. What about long-term boyfriends?”
“No, well, just one. It didn’t really work out, though.”
He was about to ask her more personal questions about this guy he was now jealous of. “Where is he now?”
“Oh, college in Utah.”
“Is that what broke it up? His moving?”
“No,” she said and pointed up ahead. “Turn there.”
Tristan angled onto a road going to the right and accelerated again. “So how come no wedding bells?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shrug. “I guess when it came down to it, I just realized I didn’t have strong feelings for him. Not the kind that would make a relationship last. He was nice. On paper, he was great. Just not for me. He wasn’t my wolf.”
“What? Your what?” he asked, totally stumped and figuring he heard her wrong.
“My wolf. You know, wolves mate for life. I want that. I want to get married one time. Like my parents. For life.”
“Ah, I get it. Hm, I didn’t know that about wolves. Sounds weird. Wolves mating for life. Seems to me they’d mate with any other wolf, like most animals.”
“Actually, there are quite a few animals that choose a single partner for life. Some penguins, some monkeys, the bald eagle, the barn owl, the vulture…”
He laughed at that one.
“Why are you laughing? Don’t believe me?”
“No, I was just thinking I’ve had some one-nigh…well, girlfriends that were more like vultures than humans,” he joked, tripping up on the fact that he almost said one-night stands. She didn’t need to know everything about him. Avery laughed heartily, though, so it made him feel a little better about the slip-up.
“That’s terrible,” she said.
“Definitely not my wolf,” he teased.
She laughed again, “No, not wolf material. What about you? Any serious girlfriends? You’re six years older than me. You’ve got a little more experience under your belt in the relationship department.”
He laughed this time. “No, ma’am. Nothing serious.”
“Why not?”
“No time. I’m gone usually. This is the longest I’ve been in one place for a while.”
“That’s lonely. It’s hard to form any kind of relationships, let alone a love life, when you’re gone all the time.”
“Nah, I’ve got my team,” he said and tried not to flinch at the memory of his two dead friends.
“Are you in Special Forces, Tristan?” she asked.
“Yeah, sort of,” he answered honestly.
“Rangers?”
That surprised him. “You know about Army Rangers?”
“Yes, I was homeschooled, Tristan. I didn’t live under a rock.”
He chuckled. “Apparently not.”
“Turn there,” she said, indicating to the left. “We’re about at the halfway mark now. So, not a Ranger. What do you do then? I know your rank is Sergeant.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Hey!” she said loudly, or as loudly as Avery Andersson probably ever got, and sat on the edge of her seat. “There! Is that his truck?”
“Yes,” he said tightly, noting it was tipped onto its side in a ditch with the lights still on and the driver’s door open. He pulled up and left it running. “Avery, stay here.”
He pulled the gun out of the console and worked the slide, causing her eyes to widen at the sight and her body to jerk at the noise of the bullet being loaded into the chamber.
“Did you hear me? Stay here.”
She nodded. “’Kay.”
He opened his door and said. “Call the cops and tell them to send an ambulance, too. Lock it.”
Avery nodded again, and he waited after he shut the door to hear the locks engage. Then he went down into the drainage ditch, which wasn’t very deep, to check out the scene. There wasn’t any obvious damage to the front of the truck like Spencer hit something, a deer or a dog, another car. The side of the vehicle was damaged but not the grill. It was even still running, so Tristan reached in and shut it off. The headlights were on, and he used the lighting out in front of it to his advantage.
He walked to the other side and pulled out his phone to use the flashlight, too. Then he climbed up out of the ditch and looked around. Nothing. He kept going forward and heard something. It sounded like moaning.
“Spencer!” he called quietly. The reply he got was not his friend, though. It was a scream in the distance somewhere like the one he’d heard in the woods Saturday. Damn, that seemed like weeks ago, not yesterday.
Tristan heard the moaning again. He spun and used the light to see his way. “Spence!”
Again moaning. It was Spencer. He could tell by his voice. Then Tristan spotted his friend. He was lying face down under a tree in the open field. Beyond and all around the small field, probably under an acre, were dense woods.
Tristan rushed over and knelt. He rolled his friend tenderly onto his back and got more moans of pain.
“Hey, man,” he said. “Hey, it’s Tristan. What the hell happened?”
“Tristan?” he asked, barely opening his eyes.
Suddenly the woods, so close by, rustled as if something were moving through them. Whatever it was, it was coming fast. Tristan shined the light that way and held his pistol out in front of him. It was something small as it cleared the underbrush and barreled fast. Fortunately, it was just a dog. However, the mutt didn’t pause for help from Tristan. It just kept running past him as if it were running for its life. Then Tristan heard it again. Something screamed in an unnatural, inhuman but still human way.
“Come on, buddy,” he said, slipping an arm under his friend’s back and shoulders and managing to get him to a seated position. “Help me out here, Spence.”
“Burning up,” his friend said.
“Come on,” Tristan encouraged and managed to heft his friend to his feet. He wasn’t much help.
Then a loud crash hit the underbrush where the dog had just exited. Three more dogs ran toward them and past them with lightning speed that he wished he had right about now. One even let out a soft mewling cry of fear.
“Fuck this. Let’s get the hell outta’ here, buddy,” Tristan said and stashed his phone in his pocket and the pistol in his pants before heaving Spencer over one shoulder. He was heavy but not so bad. Adrenaline was a good energy boost. He didn’t bother with the phone light again but took out the pistol as he jogged to the truck.
“Tristan!” Avery screamed out the window from the driver’s seat.
“We’re going in the bed,” he shouted. “You drive!”
She jumped out and put the tailgate down. It made him mad that she got out but had to admit that she was helping him immensely. He could hear it behind him. The thing, the thing that was once human was making eerie noises behind him as it pursued him. Snorting, snarling, spitting sounds that curdled the blood. Not his. He wanted to get a shot off at it but also didn’t want to stumble and further injure Spencer. More importantly, he wanted Avery to get safely in the truck again.
The ditch proved slightly more difficult, but he managed with only stumbling once.
“Get back in! Get in now!” he screamed at her, to which she ran for the driver’s door.
He could feel his fight instinct kicking in, but Tristan knew the smarter option was flight in this moment.
He got his friend onto the bed of the truck and jumped up in to pull him by the shoulders. “Go! GO!”
She stomped on the gas, which made Tristan fall off balance slightly for just a second. That’s when something shot out of the field to his left. It wasn’t the same one. This was a woman. She got both hands on Spencer’s legs that were still dangling since he didn’t get him pulled on all the way yet. Avery must’ve realized what was going on because she screamed. Tristan kicked once, twice and a final time at her face before she let go. The thing raged angrily and fell to the blacktop, hitting her head. The one from the woods hit the side of the truck’s bed and tried to climb on. Avery swerved as Tristan pulled his friend all the way on and toward the cab.
The thing lost its grip from her swerve and ended up holding on with one hand. It was a good move on Avery’s part. Tristan stomped hard on its hand with his heavy-soled boot, causing it to let go and disappear. It didn’t get far, though. The whole bed jumped under him as she ran it over with the back wheels.
“Don’t stop!” he shouted at her, thinking she was going to hesitate. Tristan held onto the edge of the bed’s wall and walked toward the driver’s window. She must’ve seen him approaching and rolled down the window. “Hospital. He’s sick.”
She yelled back, probably louder than necessary and probably from nerves, “Okay, I’m going. The police dispatcher said that all their units were out and so were the ambulances anyways.”
“You’re doing well,” he said and reached around to give her shoulder a squeeze. “Roll up the window and stay warm. We’re fine back here. I don’t want him to get you sick.”
“What about you?” she shouted above the wind whipping past them.
“Just go, Avery. We’re good.”
After they hit the main road, he saw her talking on the phone, probably to her friend Renee or her little sister.
Avery drove them to the hospital where they left Spencer. His dog tags gave them what they needed to get him registered. Tristan threatened them within an inch of their lives, and he was taken back quickly. His friend definitely had the flu. Tristan just wasn’t sure which version. The hospital was the same one he’d driven to earlier. So much was happening in such short time spans. It was like that in a battle, too. He was used to it, but she seemed shaken.
“You okay?” he asked her as they walked to the truck where he’d left it locked up in the E.R. parking lot. Tristan noticed she hadn’t put on a sweater or jacket, and it was a lot chillier now being close to midnight. He’d ditched his hoodie as soon as he was done carrying Spencer in case it carried germs. “Hey, stop.”
She wasn’t looking at him. She also wasn’t answering. Tristan placed his hand on her shoulder.
“Avery?” he asked and got no response. This was a lot for a normal person to process. He simply looped an arm around her slim shoulders to hopefully keep her a little warmer and led her back to the truck. “Let’s go home.”
She was shivering but not from the cold. Shit. This was not his forte.
“Hey, you know you’d be a lot warmer if you’d just give me back my leather jacket,” he attempted a joke. “At least I could loan it back to you in times like this.”
She actually smiled up at him. He felt ten feet tall.
“I-I told Renee not to come to the hospital,” she said.
“Good idea,” he said as he opened her door for her. She pulled his keys out of her pocket and handed them to him. He noticed how badly her hands were shaking, so he grabbed them both and held them tightly between his. “You did really good out there, okay? Like an operator.”
“An operator?”
“Yeah, like Special Forces.”
“Like an engineer, you mean?” she asked, giving him sass. He ruffled the hair on top of her head.
“Yeah, just like that.”
Tristan drove them home to her family’s property, and they were both surprised to see Abraham sitting in the living room with Kaia. Avery rushed to him, and the big kid hugged her close for a long time.
“How are they?” she asked, pulling back with unshed tears in her eyes.
He took a deep breath and looked lost. “About the same. The doctors said it was a good sign that Cyrus hasn’t fallen into a coma. That’s good, I guess. Mom’s not doing so well. I’m just home to get a shower and go back.”
“No, I will,” she blurted much to Tristan’s disappointment.
“No, Ave,” Abraham told his sister. “Mom and Dad said to stay here. They want you here running things.”
“But…”
“He’s right,” Tristan stepped in. “Your parents are right. You should listen to them. You’re the oldest. I could go up for a while if you want. I know your mom. I met your dad, too. I could give them breaks. You could stay here and take care of the girls and your little brothers. I’ve got till nine o’clock tomorrow evening to report in for my first shift of the week.”
“I don’t know,” Avery said. “I don’t know if my parents would like that. It’s not…well, because you’re her…you know.”
Tristan was beginning to wish for many reasons that he’d met Avery Andersson under different circumstances. She probably thought he was nuts if he was seeing her mother as a patient.
“Dad caught a quicker flight in New York. He’s going to be here in like an hour,” the brother interrupted them.
“Really? Dad’s almost home?” Kaia asked, hopeful and youthful about her father coming home. Tristan didn’t understand that sentiment at all. Knowing his father was on his way home had always made him cringe and feel anxiety.
“Yeah, soon,” Abraham stated. “Look, I’m gonna grab a shower. Got any leftovers, Ave? The donated food is getting kinda’ gross.”
“Sure. Absolutely. I’ll pack some right now.”
She looked exhausted, so Tristan went to the kitchen to help her. They scrubbed their hands thoroughly and began doling out cold spaghetti into small storage containers. Within an hour, her brother was ready to get on the road again, taking a huge, reusable, heavy-duty plastic shopping bag with wide nylon straps full of homemade food.
“Be careful, man,” Tristan told him. “Wear those masks the hospitals hand out.”
“We do. We’re being careful up there,” Abraham told them.
Avery and Kaia hugged their little brother, who was almost a foot taller than them. He was a big kid for sixteen. If he went to public school, he definitely would’ve been drafted onto the football team.
“Tell Mom we love her,” Avery said and pulled back.
Kaia added, “And Dad, too.”
“Love you, Abraham,” Avery said and her sister repeated. Abraham, without shame or embarrassment in front of Tristan, returned the words easily. Kaia had tears streaming down her cheeks. Avery wrapped an arm around her sister’s waist as they waved to their brother.
“You should go to bed. It’s so late,” she said to Kaia once he was gone. She nodded and left.
“You should, too,” he told Avery once he locked the house door again.
“You should, too,” she imitated him with a smile.
He shook his head. “Seriously. Get a shower since we went to that hospital. Then go to bed. You look beat.”
“You really know how to flatter a girl,” she joked, leaning against the brick archway leading into the kitchen.
“I didn’t say you looked bad. Far from it,” he mumbled and walked away. “But I’m used to keeping strange hours. We work a swing shift at the base, so staying up late isn’t a big deal. I’ll brew another coffee if you don’t mind.”
“Absolutely,” she said and walked into the kitchen after him. “Have whatever you like, Tristan. You’re staying here to help us. To help me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Probably get into less perilous situations,” he noted.
She touched his bare forearm, “Thanks for staying. Again.”
He nodded.
“I’ll shower upstairs in my parents’ bathroom. You can have the guest bedroom. Actually, I’ll sleep up there, too. That way you don’t have to couch it.”
“Sure,” he said, not entirely listening. Her long, graceful fingers were floating over the scars on his arm. “Whatever you want.”
He knew what he wanted, but that was out of the question, and she left him anyway. Tristan’s arm felt cool where her touch had left it feeling shunned and abandoned.
The first thing he did was a perimeter check of the grounds. Everything was quiet, even the chickens, who’d chirped at him last night. Once he was inside, he set the locks and went back to the kitchen. Despite the night’s crazy events and those of yesterday and the past few weeks, Tristan felt a sense of calm come over him. He wasn’t sure what it meant, though.
Instead of focusing time and energy on dissecting that, he collected his coffee and downed it. Then he grabbed a shower and reluctantly wore the t-shirt she left out for him. At least it wasn’t some preppy douchebag shirt this time. It was just a plain white tee. She also left him clean socks.
Then he padded to the kitchen for another coffee, this time adding a splash of cream from the fridge. He also raided the cookie cave where he found a few dozen peanut butter ones in a box. They must’ve been what was left from the batch she’d made to take on their super fun picnic last night that ended in screaming, terror, and bloodshed.
He shut off all the lights in the spacious house that were still on and went to the living room where he sat in a leather chair and watched out the wall of windows. This place was so unsafe. It was a fortification nightmare.
In one outlet, he found a phone charger and used it to charge his phone. Then he returned his mug to the sink and rinsed it. Tomorrow, he needed to call his lieutenant and tell him what happened to Royce and Freddie. Then he’d have to report that Spencer was sick, too. He wasn’t sure how much the local sheriff from Renee’s town would’ve told the military already or if they were sharing secrets at all.
Tristan checked the kids asleep in the basement, the little brother, Finn, must’ve decided to bunk downstairs with his brother Ephraim instead of staying in his own room. Then he checked on the girl named Kaia, stood at her door but didn’t enter. That seemed too weird of a thing to do. It was silent, so he moved on and checked Dr. Andersson’s office, then the guest bedroom. Only one more person to check on, so he walked quietly up the thick wooden stairs to the second floor. He’d been up here before, to her parents’ suite. Just not when she was in it.
Tristan turned the bedroom doorknob silently and approached the bed. She had a nightlight on in the bathroom, or it was simply some small lighting source that stayed on all the time. It barely lit the room, but he was pretty good at moving around in the dark. His job had made him adept at such skills.
Avery was lying on her back with her hair spread out on the burgundy satin sheets like a goddamn goddess. It nearly glowed against the darkness of the bedding. Her face was serene and peaceful as she slept. She was silent, barely made a sound as she breathed. Having kicked the covers down in her sleep or been too hot to use them, he could see what she was wearing. Her legs were covered in some sort of long ivory socks that came up to her thighs. She was wearing a matching cardigan. Even to bed? He peered in the darkness to confirm it. Yep. The socks barely covered her tan thighs. She had long, sexy legs. He needed no reminder of them. He’d seen all she had to entice a man in that bikini earlier. Then he almost spit at what he realized he was also seeing. Under the cardigan was nothing on top. Lacy cream panties peeked out at him from the slight opening from the buttonless sweater. More sexy lingerie. For a girl without a boyfriend, she sure did own a lot of naughty shit. He wanted to see what else she had in her treasure trove of sexy underthings. But the fact that he could see about half of one bare breast where the sweater had fallen open made Tristan swallow so hard it was audible in the silent room. She even moaned softly in her sleep and rolled to her side. Great! That now gave him a view of her shapely, toned butt in those lacy panties. He had to get out of here. Abort mission.
Tristan checked the house and grounds again, mostly to get some fresh air on his face after staring at Avery Andersson’s ass. Good God, he was turning into a pervert.
He finally turned in for a few hours of sleep around four a.m., but Tristan still had a hard time knocking out. He told himself it was because of everything that was going on with this flu virus, the loss of a few friends last night- although he didn’t really know them all that well, truth be told- and the fact that he now held information in his brain that the government was trying its damnedest to keep under wraps from the public. He told himself a lot of other lies, too. He finally nodded off, and blessedly didn’t have nightmares. Unfortunately, he had a dream about Avery Andersson beckoning him to join her on her parents’ bed, but it wasn’t their bed at all. It was theirs, his and Avery’s. She wanted him to join her. And he did.