Page 2 of Her Convict Wolf

My gut tightens. I know what’s coming.

“…Is there any chance you’d be willing to drive these over yourself?”

My stomach flips and I think I’m going to be sick. I avoid leaving my little safety triangle of bar, apartment and supermarket. Everyone here knows it, and I’ve let them think I’m agoraphobic. And yes, I am scared shitless of the outdoors. But it’s not a phobia—it’s a legitimate fear. There are people out there who would kill me without thinking twice. Some of them I’ve known all my life. And I’ve got reason to think they’re actively looking for me.

I’m not naïve enough to think that no one can get to me here, but at least I know every shadow, every alleyway. Every corner where someone could surprise me.

The last thing I want to do is step outside this comfort zone I’ve created. But if I don’t, the convicts won’t eat, and Meredith won’t get paid for all this food.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” I hear myself saying.

She beams. “You can be real quick. Just hand the food over to the guards, and zip right back here.”

“Sure thing,” I mumble. My underarms already feel damp.

This doesn’t have to be a big deal, I tell myself, while Meredith and I pack all the cartons into the trunk and backseats of my crappy old car. I’m not going to run into anyone I know. And even if I do, they won’t recognize me. In the last year, I’ve gone from being a blonde, blue-eyed picture of innocence, to a hip, flame-haired chick with dark, doe eyes. The girl I used to be would never have styled herself like that. I’ve even gotten curves, from all the good food I’ve been eating here.

“Thank you, Ti. Means a lot.” Meredith presses a hand to her heart.

I bend my lips into a smile. It’s the right thing to do.

And I’ll be back soon.

* * *

It’s a blistering hot day,a heat haze shimmering over the highway as I drive north from Perdue.

With every mile, my stomach turns another notch.It’s fine,I tell myself over and over.You’ll be in and out in five minutes, just like Meredith said.

Twenty minutes later, I spot a cluster of orange off to the side of the highway. The convicts! My heart beats faster. But they look like they’re hidden in a dust cloud. As I draw closer, I see why. They’re breaking rocks. Like something from a bygone era, they’re hacking at a massive chunk of rock with pickaxes. In ninety-five-degree heat.

I pull into a makeshift parking lot beside a long gray van with tiny windows. When I climb out of my car, a wall of heat hits me. It’s like opening an oven door right in your face.

Heads turn in my direction, and I realize that I’m the only woman amid this mass of testosterone.

The prisoners are massive, scary-looking guys, working bareheaded, their skin streaked with dirt and perspiration. They’re shackled to each other by their wrists and ankles, while a bunch of prison guards are training firearms on them.

“Where shall I unload the food?” I call to the nearest guard. He’s leaning against the van in a patch of shade.

He pulls his sunglasses down. “There’s a table rightthere.” He has a slow, whiny-sounding voice. I see where he’s pointing and open the trunk. The heat bears down on me as I ferry the cartons over to the table.Sheesh.Sweat trickles down the sides of my face and I feel my cheeks getting hot.

When I see that the convicts are breaking for lunch, I hurry to finish before they arrive. The guards are waving their guns at them and screaming at them to leave their tools behind.

“Do they have to threaten them like that?” I ask the guard, who’s been watching me the whole time, chewing on a grass stalk.

He grins at me, the stalk poking out between his teeth. “Yewdon’t know them, miss.” He scans me from head to toe, before his gaze comes to rest on my tits. I don’t care. I’m wearing a push-up bra as part of my disguise.

“They’d snap your spine soon as look at you. That one”—he points at the prisoner at the head of the chain gang—“murdered three women. Because he was bored.”

The prisoner looks feral. Crazed eyes, heavily scarred skin, tattoos covering his shaven head. When he notices our attention on him, he grins, revealing dark, glittering teeth.

I gulp. “They’ve all done stuff like that?”

“Pretty much. Rape, murder. Torture.Yewname it.” He cackles. He’s enjoying this.

As I scan them, my attention zones in on one in the middle of the line. He’s taller than the rest. Massive shoulders. Dark hair. His face is smeared with dirt, but a strange light glows from his eyes.

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