Page 10 of Hollyhocks

I freeze when I hear voices in the distance. Two men. I shift my eyes to the photos again, the urgency of my situation clicking into place.

“You weren’t alone,” I whisper, angling my head so I can hear her friends better.

“There are three bags and three of us. Each of us should take a bag and disappear or we all stick together. A million each. That’s not a bad job,” one of them says.

“When should we plan another robbery? Which bank? I want to go bigger.”

“No. We aren’t ready for that. We need to really think the plan through. The bigger the bank, the bigger their security, and because of you we almost got caught.”

I sit on the bed, shaking my finger at my new friend. “Tsk, tsk, young lady. Your father would be so disappointed in you.” I grab the handles of the back doors. “I guess you won’t really have to tell him. I did you a favor. Thanks for the clothes, bestie. It’s been fun.”

I carefully close the doors, so her friends don’t hear them in the distance.

“It’s time to get a move on.” I stuff the money in the bag, shove it under the bed, and climb into the driver’s seat.

The van is an old Volkswagen. The seats are worn leather with a few tears. The steering wheel is faded where she kept her hands and there is a peace sign sticker in the corner of the rearview mirror.

“It’s as if all this was waiting just for me.” The engine sputters, eventually turning over, and I push the gear into drive.

The tires spin on the dirt, no doubt covering the dead girl with soil.

“At least she’s buried. I’m spreading the kindness that was given to me.” I smile and chuckle, flipping my hair over my shoulders, and then following the small natural road through the forest.

My wings are scrunched since the van is too small for them. They will have to manage. There’s no way I’m leaving this van with all this money. I could fly, following the pull of my soul, but having a car will also help me blend in.

Rolling down the windows, I inhale the fresh air when a scent that has my body warming again hits me out of nowhere. The tug at my heart is stronger too. I listen to what the world is telling me.

Follow the scent.

Follow the pull.

And that’s where Fitz will be.

I flip the radio on to a rock station, my mind wandering to my human memories, and how few I really have now. There aren’t a lot of details I can remember. Only the jobs. Only how theymademe feel.

Yet no actual memories. Those are gone. That’s hard to come to terms with but that’s okay. I’ll make new memories with Fitz. He’s my purpose now.

I might not be what he is expecting, but I’ll be everything he had no idea he wanted.

“Fuck, I need you,” I groan as his scent becomes stronger the closer I get to him. The impatience of not being close enough to him where I can see him has me pressing my foot on the gas.

I surpass the speed limit. A few hours of driving feels like centuries. My panties are soaked with Fitz’s scent being so strong and his handsome face in my memories. He’s consumed me, and I don’t even know him.

I don’t need to. He’s my mate. That’s enough for me. I don’t know what it means but I trust my beasts and they want no one else but him. That has to mean something.

The sign to town appears, and I squeal because Fitz’s aroma fills the van as if he is sitting in the passenger seat.

I’m so lost in thought that when a loud pop comes from the right side and the van lowers in that direction, I lose control.

“Ah, fuck! Oh, shit. Oh, shit!” I scream, turning the wheel left, then right, then left again. The good tires squeal. The scent of burnt rubber drifts through the vents causing me to curl my nose and it ruins Fitz’s delicious aroma.

If I could shred this van to pieces for revenge, I would.

I finally come to a stop at the edge of the road, gasping for breath before giggling. Running my fingers through my hair, I groan, wanting that reckless experience to happen again.

“That adrenaline,” I moan, arching my back to rock against the seat. I only need a little friction on my clit. It won’t take long. Being so close to Fitz, his smell, the near-death experience, killing someone, I’m so close to orgasming.

One. Little. Touch.

---