Chosen: Gem Creek Bears, Book One

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Chosen: Gem Creek Bears, Book One Page 2

by Snyder, Jennifer


  Not if I wanted to stay alive.

  When I came to a set of old railroad tracks, I knew exactly where they’d taken me—to the old sawmill at the edge of town. It was the only building left near the forgotten part of the old tracks. Mr. Whitmore had owned the land the sawmill was on, but he’d passed away about a year ago. I had no clue who owned it now. I was willing to bet it was his grandson, Marshall, since he was a part of Ezra’s group of freaks too.

  I paused at the tracks for a split second, debating which way would get me to town faster. Like everyone else born and raised in Opal Pine, I knew this area like the back of my hand, but with so much adrenaline flooding my system I was drawing a blank. A loud crash coming from behind me had my feet moving again.

  Left!

  As soon as I made the decision, I bolted in that direction heading down an embankment beside the tracks. Corbin was gaining on me. I could hear him. His footfalls were lighter than mine, but much faster. When I reached the bottom of the embankment, I glanced over my shoulder. I couldn’t see him. I couldn’t see anyone. However, I could hear a low growl rumble through the air. It sounded animalistic and sent goose bumps prickling across my skin.

  Was that Corbin? He had said he wasn’t human.

  I stumbled over a downed tree, losing my footing and falling on my hands and knees. A howl ripped through the air behind me. It was followed by a yipping sound.

  Great, not only did I have to deal with my monster boyfriend chasing me through the woods but also some animal. This was the night that kept on giving.

  I forced myself up and launched into another sprint, continuing through the woods. My thighs burned when I came to an uphill area. I pushed myself harder, knowing town rested on the other side. The sun would set soon, and there was no way in hell I wanted to be stuck in these woods at night.

  As soon as I crested the hill, another howl came from behind me. This one was high-pitched but just as scary. I leaned against a wide tree to catch my breath. My lungs were going to bust. I glanced around the tree, checking to see how close Corbin or the animals who seemed to be tracking me were.

  Three gray coyotes stood at the base of the hill I’d just climbed.

  One howled the same high-pitched noise I’d heard seconds before. One hunkered down and sniffed the air. While the one in the middle stared at me intensely, its teeth showing.

  I took off running again. My thighs burned and my lungs struggled for air, but I still pressed on. The lights of town were through the trees. When I forced my way through the edge of the woods, relief didn’t settle inside me like it should. Instead, another surge of adrenaline rushed through me.

  I didn’t stop running. I couldn’t. The fear of what was behind me wouldn’t allow it.

  When I reached the oldest grocery store in town, I felt myself finally relax enough to slow my pace. I didn’t stop though, and I didn’t go inside. Instead, I cut across the street and made my way between two brick buildings, heading to the opposite side of town.

  I knew I should probably head to the police station and report what Corbin and Chase had done—and tell them about Leanne too—but my legs didn’t take me that way. Instead, they took me home. Not because I wanted my mom or because home felt like the safest place to go, but because I wanted to get my stuff and get the hell out of town. The police wouldn’t be able to protect me. Not from Ezra or Corbin. Not from their gang of vampires or whatever the heck they were. They were too afraid to stand up to them.

  Just like everyone else in this crappy town.

  I cut a left at Foxfire Lane and headed straight for the trailer park. Once I passed the sign for it in desperate need of a fresh coat of paint, I headed to the corner lot in the back and to the right. Lot number twelve. The black Jeep Cherokee I’d saved nearly three years of tips for sat in our tiny gravel driveway beside my mother’s old sedan. Her boyfriend’s souped-up truck wasn’t there. Thank goodness. I didn’t want to deal with Roy too right now; I just wanted to get my crap and leave.

  As I sprinted up the concrete steps that led to our front door, I wondered if I’d be able to convince Mom to come with me. There wasn’t anything in Opal Pine for either of us.

  I swung the door open and bolted inside as though the hounds of hell were nipping at my ankles. Mom sat on the couch, curled up in a ball against the armrest, painting her nails. She jumped at my sudden entrance and a gasp fell from her mouth.

  “Tris, you scared me half to death!” Her eyes grew wide as she took in my appearance. I knew I looked rough. I could feel it. My cheek throbbed in sync with my heartbeat, and the cuts across my legs and arms burned. Every muscle in my body ached, and the dried blood on my chin made my skin feel tight. I leaned forward, resting my palms against my knees while I struggled to catch my breath. “Oh my! What happened to you?”

  “Corbin,” I breathed. He was what happened to me. He was such a freaking asshole.

  Mom didn’t rush to me. She didn’t even move from where she sat. Instead, she twisted the lid back on her nail polish bottle, and then cut her eyes back to me.

  “Honey, you know that boy cares for you,” she said. I rolled my eyes and straightened to stand. I should have known this was the route she’d take. After all, she always did for herself. Why had I thought she’d think any differently for me? “I’m sure whatever happened he didn’t mean it. Did you run from him? Looks like you hurt yourself. I can get you cleaned up, if you want.”

  “Trust me when I say that he meant it, Mom.” The words flew from my lips, dripping with hatred aimed at her, at Corbin, and at myself. I should have known better than to get wrapped up in him. He was bad news. I’d known it even before he asked me out. “And of course I ran from him—that’s what you do when someone is trying to kill you!”

  “Oh, please.” She waved my words away. “I’m sure he wasn’t trying to kill you. You’ve always been a little dramatic.” She stood and crossed the tiny trailer to me. “We should get you cleaned up for when he comes by to check on you. Running away like that probably has him worried.”

  I couldn’t believe her.

  “Yeah, well, when he does come by looking for me, I won’t be here,” I insisted.

  I forced my way past her and down the hall toward my room at the far end of our trailer. When I opened the door, the heat of the day that had been trapped inside rushed to meet my clammy skin. The AC stopped working three weeks ago, and Mom had yet to fix it.

  There wasn’t a single thing about this place I’d miss. I wasn’t sure why it had taken something like this to make me decide to leave. I’d graduated two months ago. There was nothing tying me here except my job at the diner and the possibility of attending the community college in the fall.

  “You don’t mean that. You’re upset,” Mom insisted. She’d followed me down the hall and now stood in the doorway to my room. I could feel her eyes on me, but I refused to look at her. “Let’s clean you up and make some tea. I can show you a few makeup tricks to cover that gash on your cheek and your bruises. No one will even be the wiser once I’m through with you.”

  I grabbed my backpack from the floor of my closet and dumped out its contents. “You can’t be serious right now,” I huffed at her.

  “Makeup can work wonders, honey. Trust me.”

  I glanced at her then. “Why? Because you’re the pro when it comes to hiding bruises left by others? That’s not something to be proud of, Mom. I don’t want to cover this up. I don’t want to give Corbin another chance. And I damn sure don’t want to stay in this trailer or this town for another second. I’m out of here. I’d ask you to come with me, but I know you wouldn’t. You’re too dimwitted to realize that you deserve more than this.” My hands flailed wildly, gesturing to my room and our trailer. To this town.

  Her face fell and her eyes narrowed. “Don’t be angry with me because of something you did. This isn’t my fault. Shift your anger elsewhere. All I’m trying to do is help you.”

  “You’re not trying to help me,” I scoffed
. “You’re trying to teach me how to hide what happened. And I’m not angry with you, I feel sad for you.”

  Anger flared through her bright eyes. “Sad for me? You act like I live a miserable existence. I don’t. I happen to love my life.”

  She didn’t. I’d heard her cry herself to sleep many nights.

  “You’re eighteen. If you want to leave, then leave. I’m not stopping you.” She stormed back down the hall. “Good luck, Tris.”

  I exhaled a shaky breath before stepping to my dresser and pulling open the top drawer. It was time to pack my crap and go.

  Chapter Two

  I searched the dimly lit gas station parking lot for Corbin’s bike or Ezra’s Mustang before I pulled in. When I was positive neither of them—or anyone else from their crazy cult—were there, I eased to pump number two and cut the engine on my Jeep. My gas tank was almost on E. I planned on filling it up and then getting out of town.

  I grabbed my wallet and headed inside to prepay, my gaze drifting around as I continued to search for any sign of Corbin or the others. I was positive they’d be looking for me. Heck, Corbin had most likely wrapped his hand on his own and then took off on his bike to find me. It was probably nearly healed already. In the short time we’d dated, I’d noticed he healed fast.

  Too fast. Which should have been my clue that the rumors about him and the others being vampires were true.

  I’d seen him slice his hand open deep enough to warrant stitches once while working on his bike. He’d said he would be fine in a day or two, that he didn’t need to see a doctor. He’d been right because two days later there wasn’t a trace of the gash that had been there. It was as though it had never happened.

  I stepped inside the gas station. The air was as thick inside as it was outside. The AC must be on the fritz again. Grady Tucker stood behind the counter, playing a game on his cell phone like always. He’d been the night clerk since early fall. I didn’t know what made him decide to work at this particular station; it was the most rundown one in town, but I knew a person couldn’t be too picky when job hunting in Opal Pine. There wasn’t much to choose from.

  My legs felt like wet noodles supporting me as I made my way to the back of the station in search of a bottle of water. I grabbed the cheapest one I could find, and then headed to the candy aisle for something chocolate. I’d heard once that after a traumatic event, or some sort of shock, sugar was good. It was supposed to help settle your system. I wasn’t sure if I believed it, but chocolate sounded good. And after the night I’d had, I deserved a damn treat.

  I grabbed a chocolate bar with peanuts and headed for the counter. Grady didn’t look up from his phone as I approached. Sounds from whatever game he was playing drifted from his phone.

  “Can I get you anything else?” He paused his game and shifted his attention to me when I set my purchases on the counter between us. “Holy shit, Tris! What happened?” His mouth fell open as his eyebrows lifted to his hairline.

  Crap. I’d forgotten how awful I must look. I ran my fingers through my hair, catching little bits of twigs and leaves as they went.

  “Long story. Bad night,” I said. Neither statement summed my night up in a way that seemed to justify all I’d been through, but it would do. I didn’t have time for details. “I need to put forty on pump two.”

  He pushed buttons on the register, ringing my purchases up. I handed him a fifty before he could say how much I owed. “I’d say. Dang, you look like crap.”

  “Aw, thanks. You’re so sweet,” I deadpanned.

  “I’m serious. You look like you might need to go to the hospital. Do you? I mean, are you okay? Should you be driving?” Concern flared through the color of his eyes as his brows pulled together. “I don’t mind taking you. Or, if you want, I can call someone for you. Like the sheriff maybe?”

  “No. I’m fine. I don’t need you to call anyone. Thanks, though.” I held a hand out for my change, but he didn’t give it to me. Instead, he seemed to be fixated on my cheek.

  “Doesn’t that hurt?” Grady asked. He touched his cheek. “It looks super painful.”

  “It doesn’t tickle.” I frowned. “Can I have my change?”

  He licked his lips and glanced at the money in his hand. “Oh, right. Here.”

  I took it and then headed to the exit of the station without another word. When I reached my Jeep, I tossed the stuff I’d bought in the passenger seat and then popped my gas cap off. The pump was old and slow. It fit in with most things in Opal Pine. I stared at the ancient pump, watching as the numbers rolled over displaying how much money I’d spent and how many gallons of gas I’d gotten.

  I willed it to move faster.

  My breathing grew shallow and my muscles tense as I waited for my tank to fill. I should have waited to get gas in the next town over. Standing here beneath the flickering fluorescent lights of the gas station had me feeling too exposed. Corbin, or anyone from his group, could drive by and spot me. I didn’t know what I’d do if that happened.

  Would they try to abduct me from the gas station parking lot?

  Maybe. It wasn’t like there was anyone here to stop them. Grady wasn’t the most confrontational twenty something-year-old. Everyone knew as much. He was a tall, lanky guy who wouldn’t be able to take down anyone in a fight. Besides, he was always on his cell, playing video games. The chances he’d notice something was happening in the parking lot in time to be of any help were slim to none.

  The pump made a clanging noise, and I shifted my attention to it.

  It had slowed to a crawl as it reached thirty-eight dollars. My teeth sank into my bottom lip. Time passed slowly as I watched the numbers roll to forty dollars. I gave the handle a jiggle in my tank and then moved to twist my cap back in place. I wasted no time climbing in the driver’s seat and starting my engine. After I shifted into drive, I pulled away from the pump and felt my muscles loosen. Once I was out of the parking lot, and back on the road leading out of town, my racing heart slowed. I didn’t reach for my water or the bar of chocolate until I was well outside of the city limits.

  Exit signs for the next town over caught my eye. It didn’t feel like enough distance, so I kept on driving. I had no clue where I was going. All I knew was that it needed to be a place where Corbin and the others wouldn’t find me.

  Miles ticked away while I drove in silence. Before I knew it, I’d been on the road for nearly two hours and knew I needed to stop soon. My bladder needed a release, thanks to the bottle of water I’d drank.

  Who knew stress and adrenaline could make a person so thirsty?

  Also, I was starved. My chocolate bar hadn’t lasted long. Now that the shock from the night’s events had worn off, I needed something with more sustenance. I stared at the signs off the highway, trying to decide if any of the places listed would be open this late. It was after eleven at night. I passed four signs and their correlating exits before choosing a twenty-four-hour diner named Earl’s.

  I took the exit for it and merged off the highway. There wasn’t much traffic here—wherever here was. I hadn’t been paying attention to where I’d been going, just that I was putting more distance between Corbin and myself with each passing mile.

  Now, all I cared about was finding a restroom and getting something to eat. Everything else could come later. Even sleep.

  As I turned into the parking lot of Earl’s Diner, I noticed a handful of vehicles. I found a spot close to the door and cut the engine of my Jeep. Before I climbed out, I flipped my visor down and glanced in the mirror attached.

  Grady was right. I did look like shit.

  If I didn’t want to scare the crap out of these people, I needed to clean myself up as best I could before heading inside. I picked out the remaining pieces of twigs and leaves from my hair while also taming my strands with my fingers. Then, I reached in my glovebox for the extra napkins I kept there and wiped at the dried blood from the gash on my cheek.

  It hurt like a mother.

  My chee
k was tender and puffy. The gash had stopped bleeding, but the area still looked angry and red. There was no way to make it look better, but at least I didn’t have dried blood smeared all over still. I shifted my attention to my clothes next. My shorts seemed fine. A little dirty, but fine. However, my tank top needed help. It was ripped in a few places and covered in dirt and blood. I was surprised Grady hadn’t called the cops after one look at me because I looked like a freaking lunatic.

  I grabbed my wallet and then slipped out of my Jeep. I moved to my trunk and popped it open so I could rifle through my bags for the hoodie I’d shoved in one earlier. It wouldn’t make me look much more presentable, but at least it would cover my tank top. Then, I grabbed a hair tie and twisted my hair into a bun on top of my head while wishing I had a hat. At least then I’d be able to hide my face a little. I’d never been a hat girl though. Every one I’d ever tried on always looked weird on me.

  After inhaling a deep breath, I slammed my trunk shut and headed for the entrance to the diner. Through the windows I could see a few old men spread sporadically throughout the place and a young couple huddled together in a corner booth who looked as though they’d had too much to drink tonight. An older guy wearing an apron and a woman wearing too much makeup and a nametag, who looked in her late forties, chatted behind the counter. I assumed the guy was the cook, and the woman was one of the waitresses.

  The door jingled when I swung it open and stepped inside. No one looked at me except the waitress behind the counter.

  “Hey there, sugar. Pick a seat wherever you like. I’ll be with you in just a minute,” she said in a husky voice. She flashed me a smile and waved her hand at the diner.

  “Thanks,” I said while surveying the options.

  A booth in the back caught my eye. It faced the door and the parking lot, which both seemed like things I should keep an eye on even though I hadn’t thought I’d been followed. Maybe I was paranoid, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to see who entered the place. My nerves were still rattled, even though I was becoming increasingly exhausted as time ticked on.

 

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