Page 87 of Pit Stop

“In the red trailer at the end of this road.” Bet points to the right and then disappears back inside the rickety house, the door slamming shut behind her. No further instructions are given, so we’re left to just wander, it seems.

I turn to look at my dad and see that he and Sage are whispering as Forest stares off into the woods.

“All right, I guess there’s nothing more to be done. Let’s get on with it,” my dad finally says, and I swallow, following them down the steps to the path, Forest trailing behind us. As we walk, I take everything in. Everything around us is slightly worn, houses patched with mismatched pieces of wood, paint slathered on as an afterthought. There are a few flowers in pots here and there, but for the most part, this place is run-down.

The people who live here don’t seem to care about aesthetics.

It’s more function over form.

“Why do you think they live like this?” I ask Maverick, and he shrugs.

“Not a fucking clue. I guess this is what they like.”

“Are all shifter clans like this?”

“No idea. Never been to one before.”

After several minutes of walking in silence, we finally turn a corner and see a bright red trailer sitting in the distance. Odd little trinkets hang in the trees, and my heart thumps a little harder in my chest as we get closer. It looks like runes made ofbones, some doll heads and…is that a beer can dangling from a string?

Shit.

“Yo!” a man howls, barreling out of the trailer. He’s wearing a backward baseball cap, no shirt, and a pair of boxers. A large wolf tattoo sits across his right pec, and a moon over the other. “You must be the couple who wants to split. Bet said you were coming. He hitting you?”

The guy who I assume is Atherton eyes me, and I stare back. “What? No. That’s not it at all.”

“Shit, my bad. Just assumed. Living with all these alphas. They’re assholes, you know?”

“I know,” I reply, and he grins at me. He has a boyish charm that’s not lost on me. But fuck, does he know enough to actually be a shaman? He looks more like a dude-bro.

“Name’s Atherton, but you can call me Attie. You must be Skylar.”

“It’s Skye.” Damn Red, not even knowing my name. It’s offensive.

“Ah, yeah, Red is shit at names. And you are?” He looks at Maverick, who only holds me tighter.

“Mav.”

“Skye and Mav. Cute couple. Too bad it has to end.”

Attie turns around and tosses a beer can onto the ground, and then bends over, rustling through a cooler.

“You think he knows what he’s doing?” Mav asks quietly.

“I have no idea,” I whisper back. “But he looks drunk.”

“I’m not,” Attie says, standing up and holding two vials in his hand. Bright blue, smoke wafting from the tops. “Shamans can’t get drunk, sadly. Makes for very boring parties. But I can get high with certain plants. Have them harvested out back if you want a hit later. Might help with the pain of the split.”

He waggles his eyebrows at us and then shoves the vials into our hands. I hold onto it and feel something like despair flood me.

“Drink those now. You’ll need it. The splitting process is gonna make you sick. This’ll help. That and the drugs, if you want ’em.”

He burps and rubs at his chest.

“Seriously, dudes. Drink it.Now. In twenty-four hours, I can start the process of ripping the bond from you. But you need that in you, pronto, or else you’ll die from the pain.”

I stare down at it and swallow, feeling something akin to sadness swirl around me.

But this needs to happen. Maverick doesn’t want to follow me to the city and live with me while I go to school. He wouldn’t like that. It would slowly kill him.

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