Page 49 of The Girl and the Cobra

Never had the sex talk with my parents. Not any official talk, anyway. They would make comments while watching TV shows or movies about being safe, yada, yada, yada, but that’s about it. I think the fact that I never showed any interest in any boy gave my parents hope that maybe they could push the talk out further, and the more it got pushed out, the less likely it would happen.

Until now, apparently.

Oh, God. Where is that rock that I can crawl under?

Chapter Twenty-One – Tristan

Wolf deactivates my collar and lets me take it off for the first time since my arrival here. My neck feels weird without its weight, without the collar pressing against my throat. After all this time, I got used to it.

And the mere fact that he takes it off makes me think tonight is a test for me.

I know, I know. Another fucking test. When will Wolf quit with the fucking tests?

Wolf makes me sit in the front seat with him. It means I can’t touch Mabel at all, can’t even hold her fucking hand. It’s enough to drive me crazy—or drive me crazier. It takes everything in me to not keep glancing back at her as we drive along.

She looks good in the outfit she chose. More than good. So good that I’m wrestling with my old self and that green thing called jealousy—I don’t want anyone else to look at her, to see the slight hopeful smile on her lips or see the way her wavy yellow hair bounces every time she takes a step.

She’s mine. Why should I share any part of her?

But again, this is a test for me. I need to keep it together. That means keeping the beast locked up inside and allowing the world to witness the beauty that is Mabel Altier.

I’ll be the first to admit I don’t know much about where we are. Some tiny town nestled in the mountains—doesn’t really narrow it down much. Could be anywhere, really. I don’t have much experience in tiny towns like this, so they all look the same. I bet Main Street is decked out Hallmark-style around the holidays.

Gag me.

Wolf brings us to a tiny drug store, where he parks the car and glances at both Mabel and me. “Stay here. I have to picksomething up.” Before either of us can say a word, he unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out of the car.

Yes. He actually leaves the carrunningas he walks into the store, the key—an actual, old-fashioned key that needs to be inserted for the car to run—and all.

Mabel leans forward. “Wonder what he has to get.”

I shake my head once, though my dour expression lightens when I turn my face toward her. “Doesn’t matter. Probably nothing. He’s testing me to see if I’ll hop in the driver’s seat and take you away with me.”

She bites her lip as she studies my face. “Would you do that?”

“Would you want me to?”

Mabel seems to think on it, mentally weighing both options in her head before she tells me, “No, I don’t think so. I want to stay here.” As she speaks, her lips curl into a gentle smile.

“Then we’ll stay,” I tell her. Besides, even if we did drive off, somehow, someway, Wolf would track us down and haul us both back to his house, where he’d lock us up and take away the small freedoms we have left. The man is devious. There isn’t a single doubt in my mind that he’d find us, even if we ditched the car for something else.

The moment she gives me the full power of her grin, I melt. My seatbelt keeps me fastened where I am, but I still manage to lean far enough over that I can take her lips with mine and kiss her so suddenly she hums into me.

When the kiss ends, she brings a hand to my face and lightly touches my cheek. “I’m glad we’re getting out, even if I don’t know where we’re going.” Mabel has a way of looking at me that makes me feel like I’m not a man with cuts lining his skin, like there’s not a single thing wrong with my face.

“Me, too,” I whisper, taking the hand on my face in my own and lowering it so I can rub my thumb along her knuckles. “Ifeel like I’ve been stuck in that house forever. It is sad we have a babysitter, though.”

“He’s not so bad.”

He is, but I don’t say that. Mabel will never see it from my point of view, and that’s fine. She didn’t do what I did. She didn’t grow up how I did. There isn’t a worse fate in hell than for someone like me to be caged—truly, the only thing making it bearable is her.

Wolf comes out shortly carrying a small plastic bag. Once he gets in the car, he wraps up the bag to make it smaller and shoves it into the center console of the vehicle. Whatever’s inside it must be small; can’t tell exactly what it is beyond that. He glances at me, and then at Mabel in the backseat. “Now, for our true destination.”

Where is our true destination? Some coffee shop called The Drip. A cliched name if you ask me, but what do I know? I’ve never been much of a coffee drinker myself. Never had the need for caffeine. My body was trained to stay up all night without the use of stimulants.

“Oh,” Mabel says, a note of recognition in her voice. “I remember this place. This was where you told me to go the night I, um… almost drove myself into a tree. Why are we here? Are we getting coffee?”

“You, Mabel, have an interview,” Wolf tells her.

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