Two weeks since we ran away from a still—alive Beckett and a still—angry Purgatory. Two weeks of driving around aimlessly and desperately trying to escape away from our problems.
But I should of known from the start that we couldn't run away from our problems. They followed us now, even with us being miles and miles away from Portland. Because that was evidently the only thing that was constantly on our minds.
Alpha Beckett, the ominous Purgatory, Adam, and the overall the danger that lurked around us.
Even though we had escaped from Portland, it still didn't mean we were safe from other packs. Other packs didn't know Stella, Jeremy and I, but they knew Liam. Every pack knew Liam.
Because he was just that. The infamous Liam Farley who formerly — and occasionally now — terrorized other packs, all because the Purgatory ruined his own.
Therefor, Liam is a wanted man. And since we're along with him, we're made targets as well. Not to mention, we are technically rogues now. And every pack knows that rogues simply bring trouble along with them.
Either way, we would get attacked. So that's why we kept driving. Stopping occasionally only for sleep and food and basically to regenerate and then we were off again.
We'd drive for hours, simply staring out the window and making small comments about how hot it has been lately. Yeah. The only time we do talk is about is the weather.
You could say things have been tense. Well, not between Jeremy and Stella — they're still arguing as much as ever — but between Liam and I. And maybe it's because we're unsure of what to say to one another.
I mean, I had driven away from Portland while staring out the window, watching my own father bleed to death and not being able to do anything about it.
Even after we officially drove past the "Come back to Portland soon!" sign I was still sobbing. Sobbing and thrashing and crying out for my dad. I had begged Stella to turn the van around and go back. Go back and get my dad and help him instead of letting him die because of the trouble I stirred up with Beckett.
But, of course, Jeremy, Stella, and Liam didn't listen to my desperate and erratic pleas. They had bigger worries on their hands, anyway. Like me bleeding in back seat of the van and trying to get away from Portland as quick as possible before another attack was sprung up on us.
It seems that Liam had taken the role of both the leader and somewhat the healer of the group, because it wasn't long that Liam was in the back seat with me, cleaning my wounds and stitching and bandaging them up so I wouldn't lose any more blood.
I wanted so badly to ask them why Adam had decided to help us at the last moment and perhaps get some answers on to where we were going and what we were going to do, but once I got a good look at each one of their faces, I knew that they didn't have the answers to my endless questions. They were just as confused and worried as I was.
And so no one said a thing for a long time. Not even Jeremy, the usual jokester of the group, made a comment about the whole situation. He had sat perfectly composed and although he appeared calm and collected, his eyes told me otherwise.
And so did Stella's. The only one's emotions I couldn't read were Liam's. He didn't even glance at me. At least not until I muttered a complaint about how tight he had bandaged my leg.
He had met my gaze, giving me a warning look as I reached to perhaps unwrap it. And it wasn't till my eyes met his that I realized he was somewhat angry at me. Angry at me.
And I knew why. He was/is angry. Angry because I put myself in danger. I nearly got myself killed, all because my stupid emotions got in the way. And well, maybe, he could tell that while it was all happening, I doubted him.
I doubted him coming to get me and protect me from both Alpha Beckett and the Purgatory's wrath. But he can't blame me for feeling that way. I was scared and foolish at the time and I realized that the moment he appeared and knocked Alpha Beckett right off of me, all the while Beckett was attempting to kill me.
But Liam being hard headed and stubborn wouldn't listen even if I told him. So I said nothing, knowing he would stay mad with me no matter how much I told him otherwise. Besides, even though Liam was angry with me, he didn't say anything to me about it either.
Because of the fact I was still hung up over my father and us getting in an argument would just be another problem to add to the list.
So, currently, everything is a mess.
To the Purgatory and Alpha Beckett out for vengeance, to the tension between the four of us, and to the fact that Liam and I's relationship was currently non—existent due to the fact that we haven't been talking to each other. But I think I've mentioned that a lot more than once already.
As I said before, everything is a mess. Including my thoughts.
I just wanted things to be normal again. As normal as they could get anyway. I wanted to be able to walk down the street and know nothing bad was gonna happen to me. But then again, I asked for this. I took apart of the decision of running away from Beckett and Purgatory and now I had to own up to it.
I couldn't have some stupid, fragile, feelings of regret and agony because we didn't have time for that. Jeremy, Stella, and Liam couldn't afford some dumb breakdown from me, so once I woke up the next day, I quickly stored away in emotions of grief I felt over my father and sucked it up. This wasn't the time to cry. I had to be strong. Even if I didn't feel exactly strong.
Then again, I had told myself to be strong after my mother's death and looked where I ended up. I shouldn't be feeling sorry for myself, anyway.
At least I had Liam, Stella, and Jeremy. Even if we weren't talking and weren't exactly getting along, I knew they would never turn on me and I would never turn on them.
Besides, it was either stay behind at Alpha Beckett's and be forced to be with Adam or fight. Fight against Alpha Beckett and the annoying pests that were called the Purgatory.
Though I guess you could say we were out numbered and perhaps over our heads, it didn't matter. We were going to take them down. One way or another.
I repeat this over and over again in my head as I stare out the window. We pass countless trees and rocks and that's about it.
Even though the windows are rolled down and wind is rushing through the car, I can still feel a droplet of sweat traveling down my back. The sun beats down on us endlessly and I somewhat kind of miss the rain.
Once the sun breaks through the thick cluster of green trees I look away and swat away at the loose pieces of hair in my face.
I instead focus my eyes on my bare legs and avoid the temptation to grab my sketch book that is located at the bottom of my duffel bag. Because that would only remind me of another missed opportunity I had back in Portland.
The chance of going off to art school in New York and perhaps accomplishing my dream of majoring in art. I had a scholarship. A full scholarship to the big city and it was just another thing I had to give up.
I didn't even care if I never got big in the art industry and ended up living in a shoe box apartment for the rest of my life. All I wanted was the opportunity. The opportunity to get out of Portland and do what I wanted for once and not have anyone tell me otherwise. And maybe Liam could have come with me.
But that's selfish, isn't it? Dragging Liam along with me to New York simply for my own desires? Liam would have nothing there for him. He didn't care for the traffic and the annoying crowds of people. Liam just isn't a city boy.
Then again, I'm not the type of girl who wanted to be mated right off the bat and have kids like Liam did. I didn't want to settle down in some stupid little pack community. I wanted to accomplish my dreams and not have to worry about having kids or whatever. We were too young for that stuff anyway. Having kids and settling down is scary. I'm sixteen. Liam's seventeen. Young. Too young.
Then, we were too young in the first place to start some type of war between two packs. But we did that anyway.
I don't know what's going to happen. I don't know where we're going and I don't know when this stupid dispute is going to end. Either way, we will keep running. Away from our problems. Away from Beckett. Away from the Purgatory. But I've learned before that the one you can't run from is fate.
