I'm Not Afraid of Wolves (The Cotton Candy Quintet Book 4) (2 page)

As I stood in the pick-up zone at the Atlanta Airport, a car laid on its horn. The sound made me jump with a cry and nearly drop my phone.

I’d been obsessively checking my messages to make sure that the 1pm performance at Neptune’s World went all right. It was the last time I’d be able to see how our shows would go, as I wouldn’t have reception out in the wilderness. I couldn’t really take my work with me, even if I tried.

The thought made me anxious and my fingers twitch.

I
really
needed a vacation if this was how I felt right now.

“Christine!” a familiar voice cried. “Hey, Christine!”

I looked around, and jumped again as the horn sounded once more. A packed Jeep pulled up to the side of the curb, and Sara was in the driver’s seat, grinning at me with a wide smile.

“Long time, no see, sis!” she yelled with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Sara was only few years younger than me, but she looked and acted like a girl in her early twenties. She had my same dirty blond hair, although hers was pulled up into a severe ponytail. She wore a pair of sunglasses and a tank top.

To my absolute surprise, she looked like a serious camper.

There were two other women in the backseat, both lounging and chatting with each other. So they must have been Andrea and Emily. Suddenly, I felt like an outsider when these three were apparently good friends and close.

“Whoa, is that yours?” I asked, nodding at the Jeep.

She peered over her sunglasses with a good-natured smile. “Why do you sound surprised by that?”

“You were always more of a Mustang kind of girl.”

She shrugged and caressed the steering wheel. “People change. This is my baby now.”

Yes, they do. But Sara would never change, not deep down.

Sara pointed to the women in the back seat. “This is Andrea Smith, my neighbor.”

The red-haired woman in the back seat smiled. “Nice to meet you!”

I grinned. “Nice to meet you too.”

“And Emily Branton,” Sara said, “I work with her at the PR company.”

“Hey,” the woman on the far side of the back seat side greeted me. With her black hair cut into a page style, she looked like the last person who would want to go camping. But she had a steeled, determined expression on, so I shouldn’t be judging.

After all, this was one step away from glamping. It wasn’t like we were doing Naked and Afraid.

“Is that all you brought?” Sara asked.

I looked down at my rolling carry-on bag. It had five changes of clothes, my bikini, and a pair of hiking boots to supplement the tennis shoes that I was already wearing. I also had two paperbacks tucked into my purse, but that was all I planned on needing. “Yeah?”

Sara pursed her cherry-red lips. “Christine, always the no-frills kind of girl. Even when it comes to roughing it.”

I laughed; I used to be frillier and she knew it. A bad marriage made me really examine what was important in life. Although, right now, I wanted to look at my phone again. Evidence that I had become a workaholic in the meantime.

Maybe I had just changed my priorities in trying to do a complete 180 from where I was.

“Good thing I said I’d bring the supplies,” Sara continued, breaking into my thoughts. “Where we’re staying—it’s not going to be the Ritz Carlton, but I think you’ll be okay with that.”

“I think I’ll be just fine.”

She jerked her thumb towards the back. “Bag goes in the trunk.” Then she patted the front passenger’s seat. “And you get to sit up here with me.”

“Goody.”

Sara snickered as I tossed my bag into the back. True to her word, there were a lot of bags, including a giant cooler and totes filled with food.

This was really happening. And for once, it seemed like Sara was prepared for the trip ahead.

I opened the front passenger door. “Are we ready?”

Sara smirked. “Yep.”

She threw the car into drive and we were off, on a three-hour trek north.

As the cityscape gave way to woodlands and mountains, I got one last text message from Murphy, one of the new mermaids, before I lost reception:
Have fun! Don’t worry about us!

That alone made me worry. More for myself than anything.

“Must pee, must pee, must pee!”

Andrea nearly leapt out of the back seat of the Jeep to run into the gas station. I hoped there was no one in the stall—she’d been holding it for a long time since there were no other places to stop on the drive north. It wasn’t the nicest gas station either, so I hoped the door at least latched.

“Whew,” Emily said, getting out of the back seat of the car, stretching her legs. For the first time, I realized how tall she was. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a road trip.”

I shut the car door behind me. “You can sit in the front the rest of the way.”

“Nah, I’m good.” She gave me a smile, which made her look like a pin-up model with her black bob and her red lipstick. “You can deal with Sara’s driving the entire way.”

“I’m not a bad driver,” Sara said, coming towards us. “I just live in Atlanta. What do you expect?”

“You’re still driving like you’re fighting eight lanes of traffic,” Emily retorted.

Sara crossed her arms. “It’s defensive driving.”

“It’s offensive to me.” Emily patted her bag. “I’m going inside to see if there’s anything to drink. Do you ladies want anything?”

“Maybe,” Sara said.

I shrugged. “I’ll be in in a little bit. If there’s anything I want, I’ll get it then.” If I was 100% honest, I’d have told her that I had to pee too. And maybe a little carsick, so I was glad Emily turned down my offer of taking the front seat. I always seemed to do better up there than in the back.

“You sure?” Emily pressed one more time.

I waved her away. “I’m good.”

She nodded and turned and walked into the gas station. I also noticed that she was wearing four-inch heels. On a camping trip.

“She just broke up with her boyfriend,” Sara explained as she stuck the nozzle into the gas tank. “She wanted to get away from it all.”

“Like I did,” I mused.

“And Andrea. And me.” Sara got a faraway look in her eyes. “I’m really glad you’re here, Christine.”

“I needed it,” I said. “I didn’t realize how much.”

“Are you okay?” Sara asked abruptly. Her question made my smile die on my face. “I, uh, mean with everything? You’re just really quiet. All the time.”

Sara only knew the top level of everything. She didn’t know that I had been emotionally and physically abused in ways that I had never known were possible. She didn’t know that I feared for my very life every night. And she didn’t know that my actions from years ago still haunted me.

But her earnest look made me swallow down the torrent of sob stories and tears. Instead, I gulped down some air, nodded, and pasted a fake smile on my face.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

Sara watched me before taking my answer at face value. “You deserve to be happy, Christine.”

“You sound like my boss.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Your boss said that?”

“He’s a nice guy. And no,” I said, at her conniving glance, “he’s in his sixties—
seventies
even. There’s nothing there.”

“Pity,” she said, frowning. “Well, I guess there’s got to be someone out there for you.”

I could have asked what was up with her love life, but I figured that I would get an earful once we got to the cabin. Sara was a gossip, and I gossiped more in her presence than I had in a long time, but her question about my divorce had caught me off guard.

I felt sick, and it wasn’t just from my car sickness.

“I’m going to go get some Gatorade,” I announced, walking towards the gas station. “I need something to settle my stomach.”

“Can you get me a frappuccino?” Sara asked.

I gave her a bewildered look and then glanced back at the gas station. “A frappuccino? Here?”

Sara loved her city-life conveniences. So why on Earth would she have the idea to go camping?

“There’s those bottled ones,” Sara said. “That’ll do.”

I highly doubted that this little gas station would have them, but I nodded. “All right, if I can find one.”

“Five bucks says you will.”

I didn’t even acknowledge her bet as I jogged towards the entrance of the station. Rusted bars were on the outside of the shop, giving it a sinister, darkened appearance. It made me chuckle.
Isn’t this how a lot of horror movies start?

I pushed open the door, and the chime went off. The inside of the little mini mart wasn’t a whole lot better, as the aisles were close together and stocked with very few items, and a strange smell hit my senses. But the attendant acknowledged me with a friendly wave.

“Hi, welcome to the Gas ‘n Pass. Can I help you?” she asked.

I was glad that she was helpful. A quick look at her name tag identified her as Connie Sue. “Just looking for Gatorade and the bathroom.”

“Bathroom’s occupied,” she said, indicating the back of the store. “But Gatorade’s in that refrigerator.”

“Thanks,” I told her, just as the door to the bathroom opened, revealing Andrea. I strode over to her with a smile. “Is it safe?”

“It’s clean,” Andrea said, handing me the baton with the key. “So, yep.”

“Cool,” I said. I know I swim with marine animals for a living that poop and pee in the water, but there’s something about public restrooms that make me feel a little squeamish. “I’ll be right out.”

“Take your time,” Andrea said. “I’m going to see if there’s any snacks.”

“We’ve got plenty of snacks,” the all-too helpful attendant called from behind me. She must have been eavesdropping.

I opened the door to the single-seat unisex restroom, and, to my relief, it was clean. Small, but it didn’t smell bad and I could do my business in here. I took my phone out of my purse and scrolled through my messages, stopping at the last one from Murphy an hour ago. It was five o’clock. They would have just finished up their performance for the day.

I made to text back, but then I remembered that I had no way of contacting her. No way of indulging in my worry.

Is this what I have become?

My fingers twitched at a thought that came to mind and I clicked on my gallery. I scrolled through all of the pictures, many of them showing me in my mermaid costume. I stopped on one picture that showed the four mermaids from November: Tara, Jordyn, Alaina, and me. We were a good group. We knew what we were doing.

Gah, I wished I didn’t worry.

I scrolled through more images and I stopped at the last photo I’d saved of Scott and me together from Facebook. I was twenty-two, and while our relationship was going downhill even at that point, I looked young and happy. Not a care in the world.

That was before…

I shook the thought from my head. I should have deleted the photo a long time ago and erased any thoughts of regret, but I kept this. Why? After all, I was moving forward in my life now, and while it had taken me a decade of holding my head up high, I was able to do it now.

I was Christine Driver. And I was where I wanted to be in life.

“I’m alive, scum bag,” I told his smug face through gritted teeth.

In a fit of inspiration, I deleted the photo, wiping away the last of Shane’s hold on my life. Most of it, at least. That would have to do for now.

I waited a few heartbeats and then smiled. I felt lighter already.

A knock at the door made me jump and I nearly dropped my phone on the tile floor.

“Sorry!” I called. “I know I’m holding everyone up.”

There was a pause, and then a voice said, “Take your time.”

I blinked. That wasn’t Sara nor Andrea nor Emily who spoke—it was a man. An
attractive
man from the sound of it. Wait a second, “attractive”? I just deleted my ex-husband’s photo and I found the first man who speaks to be attractive.

I desperately needed to get out more.

I gulped, stashed my phone, and turned on the faucet. “Just give me two more seconds!”

Be cool, he’s not attractive. Be cool, he’s not attractive.
That became my mantra as I washed my hands.

I took a deep breath, gave one last look at myself in the mirror. Sure, I was thirty-one, but I looked better than I did in my twenties. Blonde hair, clear complexion, green eyes. I was hot.

Christine, what are you doing?!

“Nothing,” I told myself quietly.

My cheeks burned as I casted my gaze downwards and opened the door, nearly running smack into a hard chest. I stumbled backwards and finally looked at the guy that was waiting by the door.

He looked like I’d startled him as well. “I’m sorry.” He looked confused at his statement.

“It’s open,” I told him, stepping aside.

He nodded and tipped the brim of his hat to me before he ducked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. The click of the lock confirmed that he’d barricaded himself in there.

I stared at it for a few seconds, before I turned away, bewildered, wondering why I’d been struck dumb by an attractive man. He had the look of a man who grew up in the country and lived and breathed the great outdoors. He’d been wearing what looked like a forest ranger’s uniform, and with his height, about six and a half feet tall, he looked good.

Completely unlike the wiry, slim city slickers I usually found attractive. So why this now?

He smelled of cinnamon and pine, which made my head spin.
Spinning head and car sickness.
That was why I was fretting like this. I was just out of sorts. That’s all.

My mind made up, I walked out to the main area of the mini mart and checked the fridge where the attendant had said I would find the Gatorade. I smirked to myself as I grabbed a large, cold bottle.

The good news was that I no longer felt carsick. I felt something else.

“Did you see that?”

I looked up to see Sara leaning conspiratorially into me. “See what?” I asked.

“
Him
?” She thumbed her way towards the bathroom. “Mr. Smokey Bear?”

I scoffed at her nickname. “Yeah, I did.” Although it bothered me that she found him attractive too. “And I think it’s Smokey
the
Bear.”

“I should go camping more often,” she mused.

“I’m surprised you’re going camping at all,” I told her.

Her face darkened. “I had to get out of Atlanta for a bit,” she said.

“I know what you mean,” I told her.

“No,” she insisted. “I mean I
had
to get out of Atlanta.”

It took a few seconds for her words to sink in. “Why?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous.

She averted her eyes.

“
Sara
,” I sighed. “What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into now?”

She was working at a PR Firm. She had a steady income. She was volunteering. She was doing things. Why had she fallen back on her old habits? Back in high school and college, she had gotten in with the wrong crowd and made some terrible choices. I made different ones, but she never quite grew out of hers.

So why did she drag me into this?

Furthermore, why didn’t I ask the right questions when I agreed to go on this trip?

“Christine,” she whispered, “I will tell you later. I’d never do anything to put you in harm’s way. Just don’t tell—”

The door chimed, cutting off her words. We both turned to see Emily standing in the doorway, her hands on her hips. “Are we getting back on the road or what?” she asked.

With her back to Emily, Sara pleaded with her eyes for me to not push the issue. I fought the urge to frown before I sighed and pasted on my smile, the one I keep for when I’m not feeling well but I have to do a performance.

“Yeah, I just need to buy this,” I said, waving the bottle.

Emily nodded and closed the door. Through the bars on the windows, I saw her approach the Jeep where Andrea was leaning against the car.

“You’re telling me as soon as we get another moment alone,” I told Sara. I made sure that my tone was as unhappy as I felt. “Otherwise, you’re driving me back to the airport now.”

Sara nodded, which I took for her being all right with my ultimatum. “I’ll get the car started. Can you get this?” She shoved a bottled frappuccino into my hands, which I had totally forgotten about between the bathroom, the park ranger, and her confession.

I shook my head as I walked up to the counter. Seriously, I couldn’t believe that Sara would do this to herself again. I remembered all of the times I had to get her out of trouble. And then there were times when I couldn’t get her out of trouble, because I was in trouble myself.

Some people never change.

I put the drink bottles on the counter.

“Will this be all?” the attendant, Connie Sue, asked brightly.

“Yes, thank you,” I said, digging in my purse for my wallet.

A big hand slapped a five-dollar bill on the counter. “I’ve got this.” I looked up to see Smokey Bear next to me, his eyes straight ahead. He grabbed a peppermint patty and held it up. “And this, too,” he added gruffly.