Rogue (Supernatural) [Rogue Trilogy] {1}

3. The "Date"

3. The "Date"

"Something's clicked for you," I tell Steve as I drive him to work.

Yes, my stray has become a worker. The Gas-N-Sip snatched him right up, easy. Good news for him, slightly good news for me. It made me feel good the day I learned he got hired. His life was on a turnaround. Now I needed to get my ass into gear.

"My life is starting to come together," he admits with a yawn. "That gets annoying fast."

"What?"

"Yawning. Being tired."

"Eh, sometimes you're just used to it. You asked for the morning shift anyway."

"I didn't ask for it, I got assigned it." There's a beat of silence. "You don't have to do this, Sierra. Drive me."

"No offense, Steve, but I'm not risking my truck being in someone else's hands." I smirk. "Maybe sometime under supervision, I'll let you take her out for a spin. But not on your own, not this tired." I yawn.

I pull up to the sidewalk and park the car, ruffling my bedhead. Truthfully, my sleep pattern has been spotty. Some nights I'll be knocked out, others I'll wake periodically throughout the night and then struggle to fall back asleep.

"So, the usual time?" I ask.

"Unless I use someone's phone to tell you otherwise, yes."

"Good."

I smile fondly as Steve gets out of the truck and unlocks the store. I linger for a few minutes. I didn't think I'd grow so fond of my stray. I don't mind having him around. He's proven to be trustworthy. He's never once attempted to kill me or take from me. If he tried anything, I would definitely kick his ass. But Steve doesn't seem like the fighting type. Then again, I probably don't either.

Tapping my cheeks to wake me further, I put the truck into gear and drive off, leaving Steve to start his day at work, and for me to start my day back at the house.

* * *

Another disappearance? I think as I look online on my laptop.

I sigh. My lips twitch into a lopsided frown. Four disappearances in weeks, and all the crime scenes show is that pink substance. This time, the most recent one happened today at a school. This sounds like the kind of thing my family would jump all over. But not me. That's not me. I'm staying clean, away from any crime that involves strange circumstances.

If my family doesn't come to handle it, then the count won't stop at four. What if I have to take it upon myself to fix this? But where would I start? I've been out of practice for over a decade. It's practically been domesticated out of me. I'm as normal as the people in Rexford.

Well, I'm normal at least. My family isn't.

My phone goes off, and I grab it immediately. I don't recognize the number, but I still answer it anyway. "Yeah?"

"Sierra?"

"Oh, hey, Steve, something wrong?" I go back to my laptop and scan the article further.

"No, uh, nothing's wrong. I'm just—I've got plans after work."

"Plans? What kind?"

"The kind that involves meeting a woman."

"Oh. So a date?" I perk up. "Let me guess, is it a coworker?"