"If the cold doesn't kill you, the wolves will."
NOT A WEREWOLF STORY
Book 1 of 2.
In which an 18-year-old girl flees to Alaska to escape being accused of murder & to uncover what happened to her uncle. Involves two gentle giants.
Completed. :)
Fea...
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Chapter 8 | MY TYPE
Soon enough, there are only two more hours left to go. I've tried to keep my eyes open, looking out of the windows, not wanting to glance away for a second. And, with the incredible mountain views of Glennallen, it's not hard at all. Roan and I have thankfully reverted to the radio instead of making conversation, only stopping on songs either of us knows. Other than that, we haven't said much much to each other.
That is until he almost smashes us into an elk.
I yelp as the large deer comes running into view and onto the road, causing Roan to slam on the breaks as he lets out a curse. The seatbelt around me locks as I launch forward a bit. With wide eyes, I watch as the large deer continues moving to our left and out of our sight.
Of course, this isn't the first elk I've seen. This isn't even the first one I've witnessed up close in real life. However, it is the first elk I've seen in Alaska.
And, there's something so exciting about that.
After we've been driving for a couple of minutes after the elk ordeal, Roan asks me suddenly, "So, what's your story?"
I smile a bit, "Careful, you shouldn't talk too much. It might make you less of a man and more of a girl."
He sighs dramatically, "I forgot how much I hated the sound of your voice."
Ignoring him, I lie, "But, to answer your question, I'm not an open book." Then, I add something truthful, to balance it out. "I'd ask for your story, but I'm not really interested."
"You really hate me for my Jane Smith comment, don't you?"
"Yes, and the sexism and disregard has nothing to do with it."
"I was just joking."
I ignore him, "Thank you for giving me a ride."
"No problem. Are you sure you don't want to know my story?"
I take the water bottle I grabbed from my bag a couple of hours ago and unscrew the cap, taking a sip.
As I put the cap back on and put the bottle back into the cup holder, I say, "The only thing I'm interested in is why you're going to Chickaloon."
"Fair enough."
There's silence for a minute as I wait for him to continue on.
"So?" I prod.
"So, I'm going to Chickaloon because my father lives in the area."
"Really?"
"Yeah, and why are you?"
I sigh, "To visit someone."
"Why didn't you just fly?" He questions as he turns the truck along a curve in the road.
