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  Mia scraped her boots along the pavement. Her knees were still sore from falling down the ditch. She still wondered how the hell Rowan had found her out there, let alone in the darkness and the pouring rain. She secretly hoped that he could find her again out here. But after their failed conversation, she thought that maybe there wasn’t any point in trying to find out what happened to her friend.

  Rowan wasn’t budging, and he was being incredibly secretive, which was so strange for him. Mia knew she should blame it on time, but she couldn’t help but blame herself. She felt as if she had intruded on Rowan’s new life, even though it was cold and lonely out in the middle of the woods. He seemed to be comfortable there.

  The day turned into evening, and Mia could only think that maybe the motel had some vacancies. She had managed to get some money from Louise after all, though it took several moments of shouting. She sunk herself further into her large hoodie, wanting to hide from everything in the world. Her outburst had made her feel horrible. It wasn't Louise's fault that the pipes had burst, but she had been too upset even to think about that. Maybe after some time away from Birchton, she could come back and muster an apology, though she doubted if it would be accepted.

  Mia hated hitchhiking. She had done it several times growing up, and there was never a time when she felt remotely safe or comfortable. The first time she had attempted it was when she went looking for Rowan. For some reason, her childish brain told her that maybe Rowan was just in the next town over. She had climbed quickly into a strange man's truck, only for a neighbor to see her at a stoplight and to call the police. Mia thought about that moment often. Her parents held her so tightly and thought she was sobbing because she was scared, not because she had failed to find her best friend.

  The man that picked her up now, reminded her of the same man from so many years ago. He was large and hairy, with a thick, bushy grey beard that dragged over his dirty button-down shirt. He smelled like sweat and meat and hoarsely coughed up phlegm every so often. He agreed to drive her to the motel, from where Mia could hastily plan where she was going next. He kept looking over at her like all the creepy people would whenever they picked her up off the street. Even women seemed menacing to her if they agreed to give her a ride. Mia believed everyone had secret intentions lurking in their hearts.

  She looked at the window as the beat-up pickup passed by a string of houses.

  "Yer prettier up close," the driver said through his beard, his country accent thick like sausage gravy. "You meetin' anybody special at this motel?"

  "Just a friend," Mia said. She knew what she had to say to stay alive. There always had to be the illusion of someone waiting for her somewhere. She pictured Rowan alone in his cabin, still lying on the bathroom floor, strangely covered in mud and leaves. Mia didn't understand where he had gone, or why he was naked from head to toe when he got back.

  Even Rowan had intentions, though she couldn't pinpoint what they were exactly. He lingered in the back of her mind as he always did. Suddenly, Mia felt strange. She had tried so hard to find him, only to run away again in the wrong direction. She gazed out at the houses, and as her eyes fell on a ‘For Sale' sign, swinging in the breeze, she knew what she had to do. She had told herself there wasn't a reason to come to Birchton, but now that she had seen Rowan, it had shifted something inside of her. She had been so upset with him, but maybe if she could go back and understand his intentions she could fix this.

  The truck was driving faster now, the house flashing by.

  “Stop, please,” Mia said sternly.

  “What?” The driver asked, his thick eyebrows knitted in confusion.

  "I forgot something important," Mia hastily explained. "I have to get out right now." The truck slammed to a halt and Mia bolted from the passenger door. The truck squealed off down the street, and she watched in relief. It might have been a death sentence for her if she had stayed, but it was the fact that she would never truly know that haunted her.

  The house had been abandoned for a while. The paint was peeling on the siding, and the screen door was wrecked, with countless holes. Mia trudged towards the back door, careful not to be seen. She had done a lot of dangerous things growing up, but breaking into a house was definitely a first for her. However, desperate times called for desperate measures. She’d have to stay out here and try to find Rowan tomorrow. In the meantime, she could work out an apology or a question of some kind to tell him.

  The door was locked; shut tight with a special lock reserved for realtors to open for anyone who was interested in the phantom-like house. Mia sighed, regretting her decision to try to get in here. But anything was better than the ‘what-ifs' that came from hitchhiking across town. Mia reached into her duffel bag, and wound a t-shirt around her hand. She'd seen this done in movies and hoped that this would be one of those rare moments where something actually worked. She closed her eyes and punched her covered fist through a small decorative glass window beside the back door. It shattered, but not as loudly as she had thought it would. She unwrapped her hand, wincing at the sight of a single shard jabbed into her finger.

  It wasn't that bad, but a droplet of blood dripped from her small wound onto the concrete steps of the back stairway. After a few moments of reaching clumsily for the door lock, she was able to get in safely. The entire house was empty, and her footsteps echoed across the creaking wooden floors. It was only one story, with a small cleared-out living room. At least, there was carpet, so it would be slightly warmer than when had Rowan slept on the freezing bathroom floor.

  Mia curled up in her hoodie, resting her head on her duffel bag. The carpet smelled like mildew and the shady chemicals that were probably used to try to mask the damage that time had done to it. She rolled onto her back, eyeing the darkness that was swallowing up the house. It made her think of Rowan's house when his parents had packed up all of their things and left. Where had they gone? She asked herself. She never really knew, and had only the fragments of speculation that she'd picked up while she was running errands in town with her mom. Her mind drifted to thoughts of sitting with Rowan in their favorite spot in the woods. As her eyes fluttered closed, she wondered if he had found the ornament she had left behind.

  Lost in tired confusion, she didn’t realize someone was shouting at her until she felt large hands grabbing for her arms. Mia panicked, her mind finally cooperating as she struggled under the weight of the man as he rolled her onto her stomach. It was Rowan, but he’d never treat her this way, would he? Or it was Grey. He had found her after all.

  “What the hell do you want from me?” she shouted, writhing under the iron-like grip. To her horror, a light from outside was cutting through the darkness of the living room. Multiple lights. Blue and red. Mia’s head felt heavy as she began to realize she was being arrested.

  “What were you thinking little lady?” A familiar voice said. “That you can just stroll up to any house you want and stay there? We got laws against that if you didn’t know.” She knew exactly who it was, but was terrified to even get a glimpse.

  “Get your hands off of me!” Mia shouted, but Craig kept a firm hold on her.

  “You’ll save yourself a lot of trouble if you stop struggling,” the cop said through his teeth as a cold pair of handcuffs clasped against her wrists. This wasn’t happening, Mia thought. But as she was pulled to her feet she realized it was all very, very real.

  “I can explain,” Mia tried to say. “I wasn’t going to tear the place down or anything!”

  The cop turned her around, and she found herself face-to-face with possibly the second worst person who could have found her out here. Craig nudged her roughly.

  "Get walkin'," he said. "We got a comfy place you can stay, trust me." Mia didn't trust him at all. If he weren't a cop, she would have spat in Craig's face, and made another scene, as she had done earlier that day.

  As his hand reached around to guide her from the house, Mia noticed his shirt sleeve was pulled up. Her eyes widened and her hea
rt sank eighty stories towards the ground in a cruel realization. There, imprinted in his skin, in thick black ink, was a tattoo of a wolf head emerging from the gaping mouth of a skull.

  CHAPTER 9: INTENTIONS

  'Consequence' was the word that trailed through Mia's mind as she stared down at the scuffed tiled floor of the minuscule prison cell. She never had to factor in consequence before, mainly because she has never been caught, if she did something illegal. She was tired and furious.

  "Hello? Is anyone getting me the hell out of here?" She shouted through the thick bars of her cage. Craig was nowhere to be seen, since he had chucked her into the cell. Mia looked at the deep impressions the handcuffs had left behind, and cursed Craig for being so rough with her.

  How did they even find me? She thought to herself as she studied the rest of the room. It seemed to be a small office area, with only two other cells in the room, both of them empty. Birchton wasn’t a town for troublemakers like her. There was a desk with a swivel chair in front of her. Her first thought was to look for the keys, though she suspected somebody was carrying them. But who?

  Soon the doors opened, and Craig waltzed into the room, trailed by two other men in police uniforms that seemed too tight on them. Mia recognized them as the same officers who had sat with Craig in the diner. One of them had thick red hair and an unfortunate under bite. He leaned up against her cell, his massive stomach pressing into the metal bars.

  "Brought you something," he said with a sly crooked grin as he reached through the bars, his thick fist clutching a candy bar.

  Mia didn't want to take it. She glared daggers at him until he dismissed her with a "Fine, more for me."

  The other officer sat in the rolling chair, digging through Mia's duffle bag.

  "Hey!" She shouted, clutching at the bars again. "Get your hands off my stuff!"

  The skinny officer, who had tanned skin and a shaved head, looked up from her bag. "Why don't you chill out for a second?" He said in a patronizing tone.

  Mia watched in horror as they pulled out her clothes one piece at a time. They paused as the skinny officer pulled out one of her bras. They "oohed" and "aahed" at it, tossing it back and forth and laughing. What kind of officers were these guys? Mia thought. She certainly knew that this wasn’t common police behavior. “Stop it!” She shouted over them. They silenced, stifling their laughter.

  Craig stepped in, grabbing the bra from the large officer and throwing it back in the bag. “Alright, alright,” he said holding his hands up. “You guys have had your fun, but I think it’s time we ask the lady if she knows anything about this.” Mia’s forehead wrinkled as she saw that Craig was holding something small and blue in his hand. Her wallet!

  Craig raised an eyebrow as he opened it up in front of her, showing her the driver’s license shoved inside. "Last time we talked," Craig said with his classic smirk. "You told me your name was Jamie." He looked back and forth from the wallet to Mia. "According to this right here, it says your name is Mia Hudgens, correct? Can you read that or am I crazy?" He shoved his arm into the cell, holding the wallet right in front of Mia's face.

  Mia didn’t have the time for any of this. She reached for her wallet like an angry viper, ripping it straight out of Craig’s hand. Craig shrank back, startled, but then he laughed with his police buddies at Mia’s demonstration of spirit.

  “She’s a little firecracker ain’t she?” He said as he slapped his knee. “I can see what he likes about you.”

  Mia didn’t like where this was going. She had been brought here because she had been sleeping in that abandoned house. Now Craig was talking about another ‘he.’ Did he mean Rowan? Or somebody else?

  “She also smells amazing,” the large cop said as he inched closer to the cell again. The skinny cop hit him in the stomach.

  “Shut your damned mouth, Trent,” he said through his teeth.

  “What?” Trent said holding up his hands. He lowered his voice, though Mia could still catch what he was saying. “She doesn’t know I mean it that way.”

  There was something definitely strange about these cops. “How did you find me?” Mia asked. Craig was sorting through a cellphone now.

  “We’re the police, honey,” Craig said nonchalantly. “We got eyes and ears everywhere.” He held the cell-phone further out in front of him, pointing it right at Mia. “Smile for me,” he said, and Mia heard a shutter click as he took a picture.

  “What was that for?” She asked as she watched Craig walk towards the desk with the cell phone.

  “Just for a report,” Craig said. “We’re on a very special case, a missing person’s case if you want to call it that.” His eyes narrowed at her, and Mia felt as if she was going to be sick as she slowly began to realize.

  “I’m not missing,” Mia said, her voice barely a whisper. She sat on the bed, the springs squealing under her weight as she brought her knees to her chest. If you had asked a certain someone, they would have definitely said that Mia was missing. And Mia knew just who that was. She had to think quickly, or things were bound to get much, much worse.

  She looked up at the cops. “I want to make a phone call,” she said. They looked at her as if she were asking to be released. “Please,” she added, hoping it would add to her request somehow. Suddenly, to her dismay, they all started laughing.

  “She wants to make a phone call!” The skinny cop cried. Craig nudged him with his elbow.

  “Well hold on now, Rico,” he said calmly. “She’s a prisoner, after all. The least we can do is grant her this one favor. As long as she doesn’t have any tricks up her sleeve.”

  Surprisingly, he reached into his pocket, producing a gleaming set of jangling keys. Freedom, Mia thought as she eyed them hungrily. Her legs were shaking as she watched Craig open the door. She was startled by the sharp click of handcuffs around her wrist as the door opened.

  "For safety," Trent scoffed. Mia was brought to the desk, where a corded telephone sat next to a computer. Craig shoved her into an empty chair, clasping the other cuff on the arm. Mia used her free hand to grab the phone, holding it up to her ear as she tried to think. Her heart sank as she realized that she would have called Rowan, if only he had owned a telephone. He didn't even leave her a cell-phone number to call. That sounded all too familiar.

  Mia shuddered as the dial-tone flooded her eardrum, a low dull hum that droned constantly, waiting for her to press the little square buttons that could maybe get her out of there. Mia realized that she couldn’t call anyone, not even her parents. She could have tried Louise, but she was pretty much a dead end at this point.

  The cops waited quietly for her to dial the phone, but she could only look at her hand cuffed to the chair. Maybe if she was careful enough…but that was incredibly risky, and risk was what got her into this mess in the first place. But somewhere in her mind, she believed that it could maybe help her out.

  It happened in a flash. Mia swung the phone at Trent. He yelped as it hit him in the eye and swung clumsily over the desk. The chair was next. Mia swiped it from under her, awkwardly flailing it in the direction of Rico and Craig. They stepped back, and soon the room was in chaos. Shouting echoed through the tiny office holding area as Mia kicked and swung wildly, knocking over papers, files, and mugs with cold coffee in them.

  However, it wasn’t long before she felt the iron grip of Rico and Craig around her. Mia screamed as she tried to fight, but there was no way she could have taken them all at once. Still, out of desperation, she knew she had to try. These men were planning something evil. They could see why he liked her.

  Mia’s head hit the wall as she crashed onto the bed in the cell. The metal feet screeched across the tiles, followed by the slam of the cell door clanging behind her. Mia reached up, touching warm, ruby-red blood dripping from her forehead.

  She looked up at the three men, all of them cursing her wildly.

  “The fuck is wrong with you trying a thing like that?” Craig hollered, his face turning a sickening p
urple.

  “Craig, help me out here, man!” Rico shouted over him. Craig settled, his eyes widening at Trent as he collapsed on the floor. Mia crept further back into her cell as Trent looked up at her. Something about him had changed now. His eyes were darker, colder, and more sinister than they had been. He licked his lips as his entire body began to shudder.

  “Get him cooled down!” Craig yelled to Rico. “We can’t do this shit here!”

  Mia watched in horror as Rico rolled up his sleeves and went for Trent, who was convulsing on the floor.

  "Trent, you gotta calm down! Trent!" Rico struggled to keep him tethered to reality. Trent broke from his grasp, rushing towards the cell. His body collided violently with the bars. Mia jumped at the sickening clang, and her eyes locked with Trent's as he clawed at the metal in between them.

  "Just want a taste!" Trent cried, his voice gravelly, and almost like a growl. Craig and Rico locked their arms around him. Trent fought them off, still clinging to the bars as if he was going to rip them straight from the wall. He was trying to get to Mia.

  His shirt was pulled from around him, tearing the buttons as Rico and Craig held him long enough for him to settle. Rico grabbed a water bottle from the floor, splashing it on Trent's face. Trent seemed to awaken from a trance as he gazed around the room, regaining his bearings.

  "What happened?" he asked as he tugged the fragments of his shirt off.

  "It's okay," Craig said quietly. His demeanor had certainly changed dramatically, from cool and collected to terrified.

  Mia crossed back over to the bed, evaluating the situation. Something had caught her eye, two things in fact. One of them was peeking from under Rico’s rolled up sleeve, just barely the bottom of a wolf’s jaw. Her eyes flitted to Trent, picking up his shirt. His white undershirt had exposed his arms, and when he turned around, Mia realized a true horror.