Page 21 of Step Alpha

“Knock it off, Rayne,” I manage to say gruffly. I flick my fingers toward the windshield. “Press the brake and hold it.”

For once, she does as she’s told.

I take her hand and tug it to the gear shift, molding mine over the top to guide her to depress the button at the side and slowly slide it into drive. The gears engage, and the car tenses, ready to move forward.

“Slowly let off the brake.”

She obeys. We roll forward. She whimpers, steering too sharply right and left, like a little kid pretending to drive.

I bite my tongue to keep from giving her further instruction. Some things you just have to figure out by feel.

“Now give it a little gas.”

We lurch forward. She screams and presses the brake.

“You’ve got it,” I murmur. I’m surprised to hear anything encouraging come out of my mouth, but there it is.

She darts a worried glance my way.

“Keep your eyes on the road, Runt. Don’t worry about me. If you drive off a cliff, I’m indestructible.”

That forces a humorless chuff out of her.

“It just takes practice. Drive up to the mesa and turn around and then drive back down this hill.”

She sucks in a long breath then bobs her head. “Okay.”

She white-knuckles the wheel but makes it up to the mesa and manages to turn around. I make her practice K-turns a half dozen times before instructing her to drive us back down the hill. When we get to the end of the dirt road, she pulls over.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting out so you can drive.” She throws open her door.

“No, you’re not. You’re driving us home.”

Her eyes fly wide. “Hell, no. That’s a hard no. Absolutely not.”

I debate whether to go savage or soft on her. I don’t know why, but I choose soft. “You’re doing great, Rayne. The only way you get comfortable driving is driving. Now put it back in drive, and let’s go.”

I expect arguments, but she must be feeling slightly more confident because she closes her door, slowly slides the gear shift into drive and gives it too much gas, sending us jerking forward.

I hold back criticism. We make it to the first stop sign, where she stops and looks both ways four times before slowly rolling forward, even though there’s no one there.

“Were you waiting for the ghost cars to pass?”

“Shut up, Wilde.”

I smirk. Better. She’s got the fight back in her again.

By the time we make it home, she’s got quite a bit more starch in her backbone, and the attitude is fully in place.

She parks in the center of the driveway, which will make it impossible for my dad to get his truck in, but I don’t make her move it. I let her get out and escape to the house before I repark and saunter into the house.

Except we’re not alone. The entire firing squad is here.

My dad, the pack alpha, and several members of the council stand in the living room, arms folded across their chests.

ChapterFive

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