Page 1 of Rescued By My Mate

ONE

Mabel

“It feels good, doesn’t it?”my best friend, Dillon, asks from the passenger seat.

“The hot air from the air conditioner?” I ask wryly.

She snorts. “No, that feels terrible. We shouldn’t even be running the AC. It’s cooler without it on.”

“The car turns off when it’s not on,” I remind her.

“Riding in style,” she jokes.

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Feels good.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she corrects. “I mean, this feels good. Freedom. No more dealing with judgmental assholes. No more strange men. Just us and all the possibilities.”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” I say softly.

It is. Dillon and I have been outcasts for our whole lives. We lived in a town where everyone knew everyone, and we hated it.

The two of us didn’t have the best start in life. Dillon’s mom jumped from man to man and was always more focused on her next date than her kid. It was just my dad and me. My mom died in labor with me. I could never figure out if my dad was a drunkand an addict before I was born or if that happened because he lost my mom. Either way, it doesn’t matter. He was never home. We rarely had electricity or running water because he spent all his money on his vices.

Dillon and I met and became best friends in kindergarten. Our parents were always the last ones to pick us up, so we spent a lot of time together. Soon, we were inseparable. I could talk to her about my problems at home and not be judged. She would try to help, and I did the same for her.

We always dreamed of escaping our small town in Idaho, but we didn’t start actively planning for it until we were thirteen. That was the Christmas my dad went on a bender and left for three weeks. He missed the holiday altogether, and he didn’t pay the electrical bill. I was freezing in our small apartment, so I left to find somewhere warm. I ran into Dillon on my way to the library. Her mom kicked her out so she could entertain her new guy.

We tried the library, but they were closed. Everything was closed, and we were freezing, so I came up with the brilliant idea to break into an empty house. The plan worked for a few days, and Dillon and I were safe, warm, and fed.

Then, the owners of the house came home and caught us.

Instead of being sympathetic to the two scared girls huddled in their living room, they called the cops and pressed charges.

Dillon and I spent the night in juvie, and when we got out, the whole town looked at us differently. We weren’t just less than because of our families—we were criminals. Everything got worse from there.

So, we started planning.

We both worked part-time jobs, took tutoring assignments, babysat, cut grass, anything we could do to make a few extra dollars. All the money was squirreled away, hidden from our parents until we were ready to leave.

That moment happened a few days ago. We were finally high school graduates, both eighteen, and it was time. So, we packed up my rusted-up beater and hit the road.

The plan is to travel down the coast to Los Angeles to find jobs and an apartment. We have eight months of expenses saved and tucked in our suitcases in the trunk.

Leaving town was surreal. It was scary but also so liberating. We can go anywhere we want. No one knows us. No one is judging us. We’re free.

“Can we stop at the next town?” Dillon asks, squirming in her seat.

“Sure. It would be nice to get out and stretch my legs a bit.”

“I wonder if we’re close to the coast. Maybe we can see the water,” she says, pulling out her old phone to look at the GPS.

“What’s the next town called?”

Dillon studies the screen. “Um…looks like we have a choice between Red Fog or Twisted Oak.”

“Great names,” I joke.

“I know, right?” She laughs. “We’re just past Red Fog, so driving to Twisted Oak would make sense.”

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