“Excuse me. I’m sorry to bother you, but do you think you could give me a ride to the next town?

” I kept my voice soft and unassuming. I needed to make myself look as small and unthreatening as possible, which wasn’t difficult.

I didn’t eat regularly and was below average height, which I’d learned over time to use to my advantage since it helped me blend into crowds easier.

The couple blinked at me, then glanced at each other, communicating silently.

“It’s just…I’m doing this solo road-trip adventure thing, and I’m supposed to meet a friend. My last ride dropped me here, but there aren’t any bus stops nearby.” It was a reasonable story. One they could buy into without digging too deeply to find the truth.

The wife gave me that megawatt-friendly smile of hers. “We’re just returning from our summer break road trip. We’re headed home to Blackwood Creek.” She looked at her husband, who shrugged and smiled at me.

“Hop in,” he said.

My shoulders sagged in relief, and I headed toward the backseat of the passenger side.

I climbed in and looked to my left, gasping when I discovered I wasn’t alone.

A cute little boy was asleep in his booster seat.

He was a young one, maybe four or five years old, with chubby cheeks and features that were a mix of both his parents.

His hair was thick and brown, like his father’s.

“We’re James and Fiona Ashworth, and the little tyke passed out back there is Beck,” James said.

“I’m Tori. Thanks again for this.” I smiled awkwardly as I internally cringed.

I wasn’t used to giving out my real name—well, nickname—but all my aliases had been blown, and I couldn’t afford to acquire a new one.

I had to get a job wherever I landed, so my ID needed to match my name unless I found someone willing to pay me under the table.

It meant I wouldn’t be able to stay long in this Blackwood Creek place, but I could save up enough for a new identity, then move on.

Hopefully, I could stay longer at my next stop.

It was a relief to be me for a while—Victoria Summers, AKA Tori.

I couldn’t tell when I’d last been called by my real name.

Easing back against the seat, I was happy that I wouldn’t have to be on alert all the time to make sure I remembered to respond to a different name.

That alone was exhausting and helped me stay more secluded.

It also helped that I wasn’t getting any strange feelings from this couple that I couldn’t describe.

Since I’d been on the run, I’d just had this…

knowing when something was off. I wasn’t used to feeling this…

safety with anyone. A nagging voice at the back of my mind told me it could be deceptive, but I pushed it away.

There was no evidence to suggest that, just years of my needing to be suspicious of everyone and everything.

Fiona turned around in the front seat, the seatbelt a dangling ornament more than a safety feature and no real obstruction to her movement.

“Of course. If you’re traveling through, you should spend some time in Blackwood Creek.

It’s such a charming little town. It’s a great place to explore and relax. The people are such characters.”

I smiled at them non-committedly, but I would think about it. I wished I could stay, and it wasn’t like I had anywhere else to be, but being in one place for more than a few days was risky.

Although, taking a break for a few weeks—hell, a week—would be nice.

Being on the move every other day was a bitch.

It got to me sometimes, even though I constantly reminded myself that all the moving kept me alive and out of the hunters’ hands.

Staying in one place for too long was dangerous, but I couldn’t deny that I was tired.

I certainly wouldn’t have said no to resting if it seemed relatively secure.

The comment on the town’s characters had me a little on the fence, but I would see for myself soon enough. If anything was shady or felt off, I’d book it. I’d left places for far less before.

I listened as the Ashworths chatted excitedly about their trip and everything they’d seen.

A little bubble of jealousy built inside me.

What I wouldn’t give to have such a carefree, easygoing vacation.

I didn’t let it show, though. Instead, I pushed the feelings down deep—a skill I had perfected over years of running.

The constant dye jobs were frying my hair, and the endless sleepless nights and jumping every time an erratic noise took me by surprise had me on edge all the damn time.

But what was the point of harboring resentment when my life would never be easygoing or simple?

Setting down roots, having the white-picket fence and everything it represented wasn’t in my future.

I needed to make sure I stopped desiring it, stopped dreaming about it.

But surrounded by this little family, seeing what I could have had? Easier said than done.

I watched the trees pass as we drove. The couple talked easily, and there was a contentment between them.

That was something else I missed out on.

I had nobody. No one to count on. No one to hold in the darkness or to hold me.

No one who knew my darkness and my light.

The only company I’d kept in the past four years was myself and the monster inside me…

and she wasn’t much of a conversationalist.

In the odd jobs I’d taken to survive, I’d never allowed myself to get close to people. What would be the point? I’d either have to ditch them or risk putting them in danger. It was safer to be alone.

“Who’re you?” A sleepy voice interrupted the couple’s conversation and my musings.

Glancing to my side, I watched Beck yawn loudly and wipe his eyes with the back of his hands, but he kept his wary attention on me.

“I’m Tori.” I held my hand out to shake his. “You must be Beck. It’s nice to meet you.”

He eyed my hand and looked at his parents, who gave him an encouraging smile.

He gave me a skeptical look, then shook my hand and started asking questions.

It took me several tries to catch on to his way of talking—he mumbled his words—but once I got the hang of it, I couldn’t help but be charmed by the little cherub and his natural sense of hesitation.

Not openly trusting someone was a plus in my book.

“Where did you come from?” He cocked his little head.

“From the gas station.”

“Why?”

“Why was I at the gas station?”

He nodded and stared at me intently, which was a little disconcerting since he was just a kid.

“Because that was where I ended up.” That was a safe enough answer and seemed to appease him.

“Are you coming home with us?”

Shaking my head, I said, “No, I’m not. Your parents are only giving me a ride.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t have a car.”

“Why?”

“I can’t afford one.”

Beck stared at me as if he was coming to his conclusions about me, and I must’ve passed his test.

“Do you like dinosaurs?”

Relief flooded me. He was done with the personal questions and moving on to outrageous ones natural for a five-year-old. What was my favorite dinosaur? Did I prefer dinosaurs or superheroes? Who was my favorite superhero? Did I like ice cream? What was my favorite flavor?

For the first time in a long while, I sat comfortably in the back of a car with a sweet family, talking to a five-year-old about life and random facts.

Refreshing. That’s what it was. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt light-hearted enough to laugh for an entire afternoon with not so much as a glance out the windows to make sure nobody was following me or attempting to cause a car wreck.

That had happened once when I first went on the run.

It was a difficult memory to let go of. Guilt at the danger I had inadvertently put that man in constantly waged war in my mind.

I’d been staying—no, staying implied being in one place for more than a couple of nights—I’d been hiding out in the city when I realized I made a mistake.

I’d misjudged them. The hunters were closer than they’d ever been.

By hunters, I don’t mean men who hunted deer or elk.

They had weapons specifically designed to hunt monsters, weapons that would never be sold on the shelves of regular outdoor-gear stores.

The money the hunters invested had made the organization wealthy beyond compare, and they utilized every cent in the capture and torture of paranormals.

Fighting them would be a death sentence, so I’d packed up my shit and left. It was the only choice.

I’d made it out of the town to a nearby truck stop.

Normally, I would’ve hidden in the back of a truck, but I was in such a hurry to get out of town, I‘d accepted a lift from a truck driver. He wasn’t horrible or sleazy like one would expect from a truck driver, just a young guy working hard to feed his family.

I’d just started to relax when a vehicle pulled alongside us.

They made sure I saw a hunter was driving.

His vicious smile let me know what lengths they were willing to go to catch me because they couldn’t risk me spilling the secrets I held.

He drove in front of the lorry and braked.

The driver beside me pushed down hard on his brakes.

There was nowhere else for him to go. The truck swerved and the load in the rear moved, causing the lorry to go off the road.

It had been a mess. Sobbing, I’d managed to grab my backpack and bolt from the truck, the driver’s screams echoing in my ears as I ran.