GONE THROUGH HELL

Asher.

Despite having woken up moments prior, Asha looks radiant beside the truck. Her platinum blonde hair captures the sun, like a crown of light. Her lithe figure draws one’s attention to its subtle and sultry curves, while the honey-brown eyes bewitch. At a distance, through the diner’s dirty window, these traits unite in the portrait of a beautiful young woman. Crass and casual, a smokescreen for a deeper emotional intelligence.

It takes all my willpower to drag my gaze away from her, but I have a rare moment alone with Jake I don’t want to squander. As the controller of my fate, it behooves me to learn the way his mind thinks. He sits square-shouldered in the booth, alert, despite little hints of exhaustion peeking through. For example, the way he blinks with such intention, refusing his eyelids the opportunity to remind him how splendid a moment’s rest would feel.

“Where are we headed?” I ask.

His eyes snap to mine, and in them I find my answer. Confidential. Need-to-know basis. Shut up and do what I tell you.

It was evident the moment we met, I didn’t have his trust. Which I suppose is understandable,  His eyes wander back to the window, where they find Anna. And yet, both brothers have allowed themselves to become involved with the so-called asset, as Michael called her — whatever that means. I smelled her on them like a pungent cologne. By the strength of the scent, I can only imagine what the three of them got up to in the past forty-eight hours. And without showering since.

oks back at me, leaning forward on the table. “For murder?”

I steel myself against physical response, which I know he’s fishing for. Cracks in my facade. “That’s correct.” I smile softly, but behind this genial mask play memories of my crime. Flashes, tiny soundbites, clipped recollections flitter across the stage of my mind. My mother’s shriek. The fury in my father’s eyes fading into eternal darkness. The blood staining my coat, dripping from my wolf’s teeth, bared in an open maw. The flight, endless running, days on end, switching between forms whenever my legs tired. “Would you like me to talk about it?”

He inspects me with wary curiosity. Another flash, mom’s death, dad’s taken away, mom. Tears on Mom’s cheeks catching moonlight, glittering like diamonds. Snapshots imprinted on my brain like photos in a grim family album. “You seem to be at peace with it.”

Smell of blood mixed into the crisp night air. “Does the subject interest you, Jake?”

I notice a slight constriction in the muscles around his left eye, though I don’t know how to interpret. Disgust? Anger? Incredulity? Jake holds his cards close to the chest. Living that way must be exhausting. Keeps the muscles all tight, makes you aggravated, always a background anger rumbling within. I suppose men like Jake use that  to his owjjtheir advantage, as well, but at what cost?

“Remarkable shift,” he says.

I raise my eyebrows. “What’s that?”

“ You must have gone through hell, no mother , your dad taken away for a crime he never committed and your daughter stollen away.”

I smile, the subject far easier than the last. “Well,I am this naive girl who believed my mate will marry me before sex, My mom was killed by God , Dad taken away for a crime he never committed and my baby taken away, I cried so much but no one was there to help me.”

Jake nods. “Uh, huh. Those moments must be hard for you…sensitivenature?”

The server appears, unfazed by the mention of prison. She wears a stained apron over a teal dress and a cloak of nonchalance that must buffer her against the riffraff that filters through this diner. “Hello,” I greet cheerily.

It’s my affability that gives her pause. Her eyes lift from the notepad on which she scribbles her customers’ orders. A smile tugs up the corners of her mouth when she sees me. “Hi.”

“We’re waiting on two more,” says Max, shooing her.

“I’ll come back in five,” she says, passing me one more glance before receding behind the counter again.

“Smooth operator,” says Jake . “I hope you don’t intend getting in between her legs?

“ If you are this jealous what will you do when I start training her to use her magic?Asher changes gears. “Well, don’t hold out hope for her. She’s off limits.”

His eyes bore into me, waiting for my response. I simply nod. As stunning and intriguing as I find Asha, I’m not looking for trouble.

Sure, I weathered my time in prison, but I’m not looking to do any more. This is my one shot to stay out. Freedom. Something I never really tasted in my life, not even during those years on the lam, at school, under a false identity. Watching over your shoulder isn’t freedom. It’s just another form of imprisonment.

So, despite a history of mistakes, I don’t intend to make one here. I’ll abide by Max’s rules, serve the Enforcers, and keep myself out of that godforsaken Hell I left behind. No matter how intriguing the pretty asset is.

"I'm only here to help," I offer simply.

"I hope so," Max says, and there's a hint of a threat in his voice.

ANNA

This diner is a rundown way station for truckers and other less discerning travelers to fill their bellies without worry of judgment. It belongs to the men and women of the road, a restaurant at the edge of the world, living in the margin, outside society’s reach.So why do I feel so comfortable here?I guess I’m becoming one of their kind, fallen through the cracks into a demimonde of misfits, alike only in their distaste of the norm.

The wafting scent of grease and sizzling meat patties cuts my philosophizing short. My stomach grumbles and I realize how hungry I actually am. Ravenous, as it turns out.

Our talented server arrives with a half dozen plates balancing on her arms, and still manages to place each before us without spilling so much as a single fry. “Enjoy,” she says flatly, before flashing a smile at the other side of the table, one to share between Asher and Lucas.

Jake and I both take notice, sharing a moment of mutual eye-rolling before we dig in. I mean, I know the waitress is only looking at them because Jake  radiates a leave me the fuck alone air, one of the few things we have in common, but I don't think Jake is the least bit worried about his sexual prowess.

Even if her ogling the guys irritates me a little.

We tear into the meal with the ferocity of our inner wolves, but none as much as Asher. He’s shoveling his country-fried steak and mashed potatoes into his mouth like it’ll run away if he gives it the chance. I pause to watch and after a few seconds of my fascinated observation, he catches my eye.

His cheeks redden, and he smiles back at me. “How did you learn to eat so fast?.”

“eat fast?” I repeat, unsure I got that right. The Lucas and Jake shift uncomfortably in the booths, eliciting awkward squeaks from the ancient vinyl upholstery.

Asher, on the other hand, seems unabashed by his past. “I learn that at work, I had just liittle hours to rest to eat so I hard to learn to eat fast. At the end I loose the job”

Perhaps propriety would dictate I not ask the question at the forefront of my thoughts, but instead it slips right off the tongue. “What was your dad accused of?”

“Murder.”

”Did he committed the murder?Asher asked.

“ No,my dad can’t hurt a housefly”