Luna Queen Pariah

Chapter 6: Rodney the Conflicted

Chapter 6: Rodney the Conflicted

Rodney

Was Sariah lying to me or had Stella lied to me? I stared at Sariah. There were leaves and flower petals in her glossy black waves. Her big brown eyes were pleading with me. She was practically trembling in fear. She knew this was a lot to ask. I knew it would piss Stella off but I had already made up my mind.

“Come next week, even if Stella is my mate, I could never be happy if I knew you were being led to the guillotine,” I said.

“Is that how they execute werewolves nowadays?” Asked Sariah, alarmed.

“I heard that Sterling has one with a blade of silver,” I said, my expression grave. “Sterling silver!” I emphasised.

She did not get the joke.

“Don’t you get it?” I asked incredulously. “Cause you know silver is toxic to us and his name is Sterling like….” I trailed off.

“Yeah,” she said feebly. “I get it.”

“You didn’t even c***k a smile,” I said.

“I’m facing death, Rodney,” she said indignantly.

“No, you’re not! All corny jokes aside, I’m taking you to the border!” I said sternly.

Her eyes widened.

“You really mean that?” She asked in disbelief.

“I mean it,” I said solemnly.

“Pinky promise?” She asked, holding out her shaky little pinky finger.

We were probably too old for this now but what the hell.

“Pinky promise,” I confirmed, accepting her pinky, linking it with mine.

“May your pinky finger shrivel up and fall off if you break this promise,” we recited in unison.

I remembered the first time I had ever made a pinky promise with her. I had told her I was part wizard and that her pinky finger would really fall off if she broke the promise. She had come to me crying because she had actually broken the promise and had wanted the “curse” lifted. I had explained to her I was joking. It had taken an hour or so to convince her that her finger had not been in danger.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled.

“For what?” She asked softly with a shrug.

“For everything that has happened to you. Losing your family. The threat of losing your life. All of it,” I said in earnest.

A war was being waged within me. One side of me believed Stella and was shocked that Sariah was this monster. The other side of me believed Sariah and was shocked that Stella was this monster. Either way, there would be a loss of some kind. My best friend could not stay on these pack lands. Innocent or guilty, I wanted her to escape with her life.

“Is the car still parked out front?” Whispered Sariah.

I got up to look out the window.

“They’re gone. Finally,” I muttered.

There was a sharp knock on the door. Sariah jumped.

“Hide,” I hissed.

She ducked under my bed. There were a few articles of sweaty gym clothing under there so that would be enough to mask her scent. I opened the door, expecting to see Anthony, my annoying brother, but finding my Dad instead.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, keeping my tone measured.

“Where is she?” Said Dad simply.

“She left,” I said, referring to Stella.

“Not the Alpha’s sister,” muttered Dad, his expression grave. “Sariah.”

Sariah

My heart plummeted into my stomach. This day was an endless rollercoaster of emotions. I had barely had time to be thrilled about Rodney agreeing to help me before his Dad announced that the jig was up. I stayed put, hoping Rodney would dismiss his father’s claims somehow. Rodney was persuasive. He would be able to convince his Dad that he was mistaken.

“How did you figure out that she was here?” Asked Rodney bluntly.

I sighed deeply. I crawled out from under the bed. I got to my feet, feeling defeated.

“Please, just give me an hour head start to get out of here if you’re gonna report me to the pack police,” I pleaded, my eyes on Frankie.

Frankie had been a friend of my parents. I was hoping he would do me this one favour. Frankie’s eyes seemed to hold so much sadness. He approached me hesitantly and pulled me into a gentle hug. He cupped my face.

“I’m not going to report you, Sariah. I’ve known you since you were a pup. We’re gonna get you to your milestone birthday, right, son?” Said Frankie with a heavy sigh.

Rodney nodded eagerly.

“Let’s get out of here,” said Rodney.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, Frankie!” I said breathlessly.

“Before we go, how did you know? We need to know so we don’t repeat the same mistake!” Said Rodney.

Frankie held out a white droopy bell-shaped flower. I took it. These were the flowers I had encountered in the shrubs outside.

“I picked up her scent on these flowers,” said Frankie, looking at me strangely. “The Alpha King seemed to pick up the scent as well,” he added.

“I rubbed the flowers on my skin, hoping to mask my scent a bit,” I admitted.

“He kept one of the flowers,” mumbled Frankie, stroking his chin as though thinking very hard about something.

“Why? To memorise my scent? To track me?” I asked, feeling panicked.

“He said he liked the unusual smell of the flower,” said Frankie with a shrug.

“Was it actually the flower he was smelling or Sariah’s scent?” Asked Rodney quickly.

“I can’t be completely sure,” said Frankie. “Lily of the valley smells pretty great!”

Sterling knew my scent. I felt like I could barely breathe.

“We have to go now,” I insisted.

“Wait here, just one second!” Frankie beseeched me.

I obliged him while he scurried off to find something. He returned with a thick envelope filled with one hundred dollar bills.

“It’s about five thousand dollars. It should be enough to buy you some time in the new pack before you have to start working,” whispered Frankie conspiratorially.

I nodded mutely. I was so overcome with emotion I was unable to speak. I just hugged him again, trying to pour all the gratitude and admiration I had for him into that embrace.

“Thank you,” I gasped with one last look at Frankie as Rodney rushed me out of the backdoor.

“Get on the floor,” instructed Rodney as we got into his car.

I got into the backseat and then crouched on the floor, keeping myself out of sight, as Rodney sped through the night. 

“Does Anthony know?” I wondered aloud.

“I have no idea. When I do this,” said Rodney, tapping on the steering wheel three times, “I mean for you to be quiet.”

“Okay,” I said.

I was overcome with gratitude for what Rodney and Frankie were doing for me. I felt as though I really did not deserve it even though I had not actually attacked Stella.

“How far away is the border?” I asked, feeling a bit embarrassed at my lack of knowledge regarding my pack lands.

Rodney shook his head sadly.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered. 

I knew he was joking but I felt a twinge of shame.

“I’m a borderline recluse okay! I go to school. I come home. That’s it!” I said defensively.

“Yeah, I know that’s it,” chuckled Rodney.

He was always trying to get me to go on hikes or other outdoor excursions. 

“It’s too late now,” I said wistfully as I realised I would not be able to see my pack lands ever again if I made it safely over the border.

“Hey,” said Rodney, his expression softening. “It’s never too late. The next pack over has some pretty great scenery. They aren’t inland. They have coasts. Imagine the beaches and the bays. You’re gonna love it!” He assured me, grinning.

I could see his smiling face reflected in the rearview mirror from my cramped position on the backseat floor. I was lying among old newspapers, pairs of sweatpants and muscle tanks. There was even an almost empty plastic jar of chocolate-flavoured protein power. 

“It’s a hard fight between under your bed and the back seat of your car,” I said.

“Hey!” Exclaimed Rodney indignantly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a tiny bit messy,” I said, keeping my tone lighthearted.

“Hmph…hey, uh, to answer your question, the border is about six to seven hours away if we speed the whole way there,” said Rodney nonchalantly.

“What?!” I yelped.

Six to seven hours away even if we sped the whole say?! 

“Don’t speed! I mean, drive quickly but we can’t afford to get pulled over,” I explained. “Rodney, I really appreciate what you’re doing for me and I don’t want to drag you down with me. I was thinking…if by some chance, you get caught driving me to the border, you can pretend I held you hostage or something!”

Rodney burst into laughter. He was almost in tears from laughing so much.

“Yeah, because that’s believable,” he chuckled. “You’re five and a half feet. You’re a teenager!”

“Well, apparently, it’s believable enough that I tried kill Stella so why would anyone put anything past me,” I muttered.

Rodney’s expression grew sombre.

“I can’t picture you doing that. I just can’t,” he whispered under his breath, more to himself than to me.

Rodney kept the windows up so my smell would not escape from the car. He had the air conditioning on high and the pile of sweats under me was surprisingly comfortable. I felt myself drifting off. 

“Sariah! Sariah!” Hissed Rodney.

I slowly opened my eyes and jumped when I realised Rodney’s face was an inch from mine.

“What’s going on?!” I gasped.

“It’s after midnight! You lived another day! I pulled off to the side to avoid a road block. They were checking cars up ahead,” explained Rodney in hushed tones.

He was leaning over the car’s backseat to face me. There was a dull ache in my body from sleeping in such a weird position.

“Lucky for us, there’s a motel,” said Rodney.

“Where?!” I said.

“There,” he replied simply.

I shot up and looked through the window, momentarily forgetting my predicament. I squeaked in horror at what I’d done and ducked down again.

“Is it safe?” I whispered. “Did anyone see me?”

“It’s safe. There’s just a gas station attendant asleep over there at the twenty-four hour gas station and sorry but I left you asleep in the car for like forty-five seconds to scope out the motel. There’s a person at the desk. Just one. An old man. Put on my shades and baseball cap and tuck your hair underneath it. I had a brilliant idea!” He gushed excitedly, keeping his voice low although there were apparently only two people around.

I put my hair in a huge messy bun and put his cap on over it, stuffing my hair under it. A few long dark wisps fell out. Close enough. I grabbed his shades and a long loose grey jacket.

“Come on,” he said.

I slowly got out of the car. We were in a small parking lot. The gas station and the motel shared a compound and were probably owned by the same questionable businessman. Something about this motel just screamed ‘illegal activity welcome’ to me. The motel itself was a one storey building with an ‘L’ shape. The bottom of the L was the place to check in and then the rooms formed a long straight line facing a brightly lit pool. As I got closer to the front desk, I could see the pealing peach paint on the building. A chunk of it cracked off and fell on my shoe as I crossed the threshold. I picked it up and looked at the thick chunk of dried paint. It revealed all the colours the motel had been painted in the past: peach, teal, hot pink, bright yellow and a pale blue.

The interior housed a front desk where an old werewolf was snoring in his high-backed armchair.

“A room please,” said Rodney loudly, waking up the guy.

The guy blew his nose and then glared at Rodney.

“How old is she?!” Demanded the old man.

I was technically still seventeen. I was a few days from turning eighteen. I began to panic internally.

“Ew, man, she’s my cousin,” growled Rodney. “We’re tired. Our family reunion is in Viper Moon. I can’t drive all night and I’m not paying hotel prices for this s**t. I didn’t even want to go to this reunion!”

Rodney and I did not look alike but the way he said it sold it as believable enough.

“Alright, alright, I didn’t ask for your autobiography,” snarled the man. “Welcome to the Snooze and Fuel.”

I smiled at the name. The neon sign outside had only had several working letters. The others had been in darkness so what was left read: “Snozel.”

“I like the name,” I said politely to the man.

The man gave me a weird look.

“Um, thanks sweetheart,” said the old man.

He gave us our key which had the number nineteen on it.

“It’s for room twenty-seven,” said the old man.

“It says nineteen,” said Rodney, annoyed.

“Fine, go there then and see if it opens,” said the man with a shrug.

Rodney and I glanced at each other. The key opened room number twenty-seven. We did not bother to check number nineteen. The room had two small beds and the loudest prints in existence. The sheets bore palm trees with a bright yellow background and the walls were a shade of orange that made my head throb.

“Bright and cheery,” said Rodney, smiling, trying to make the best of things.

“I’m alive,” I said simply.

That was enough.

“Tomorrow, we’ll see how easily we can cross the border. They’ll definitely want to check my car. I’ve been thinking…do you think you could fit in a suitcase?” He proposed.

“I thought you’d never ask,” I said.

Rodney laughed.

“Seriously,” he said. “It’s one of our options.”

“I’ll try,” I said solemnly. “I’ll try anything.”

“Okay! And now for my great idea, an alternative option!” Announced Rodney.

He had been texting someone on and off while we checked in. There was a knock on the door.

“She made it here super fast!” He said excitedly. “She lives close to the border you see!”

My heart began to race. He had told someone about my situation!

“Tada!” Said Rodney, opening the door to reveal a curvaceous pretty girl with dreadlocks who was holding a large grease-stained bag of fast-food.

The food smelled amazing. My mouth began to water.

“My surprise is the food, right?” I wondered.

“Your surprise is my cousin Wisteria!” Said Rodney.

“Um, okay, she’s not gonna turn me in right?” I mumbled.

“Did she just call me snitch?” Said Wisteria, coming in and slamming the door shut.

She threw two bags onto Rodney’s bed, one containing fast-food and the other hair products from what I could tell.

“You’ll get grease on the bed,” complained Rodney.

“Yeah because this place is just so clean and classy,” muttered Wisteria.

I laughed a little. She seemed cool enough.

“Sorry for inadvertently calling you a snitch,” I said in earnest.

People being nice to me at this point could be risking their freedom and possibly their lives.

“Girl, that was in the past,” she said decisively. “I’m not your surprise by the way! I brought your surprise: this food…”

My stomach literally growled as if on cue.

“…which by the sounds of it you need,” she said. “And more importantly, this disguise!”

I grabbed a handful of fries from the first bag and stuffed them unceremoniously into my mouth. I went about investigating the contents of the second bag: hair brushes, purple shampoo, purple conditioner, hair bleach…

“This is stuff for going blonde…” I said, trailing off.

“That it is,” said Wisteria, grinning as she ate her fries and onion rings.

“You have really long jet-black wavy hair,” said Rodney. “That’s bound to be what everyone is on the lookout for.”

“It is,” said Wisteria. “You’ve been on the news.”

Wisteria turned on the motel room’s small television and surfed the channels until she settled on a pack news station. I gasped. There was a picture of me in my school uniform with my glossy ebony waves framing my heart-shaped face. I was a wanted person. I sat down on my bed, clutching my chest.

“Don’t freak out,” said Wisteria, looking at me with worried eyes.

“Don’t cut my hair,” I mumbled. “It’s kind of my security blanket.”

“But can I dye it?” She asked.

I thought about it as I looked at the picture of me on the screen whilst trying to envision a shade of blond that would compliment my tawny gold skin.

“Only if it’s not brassy,” I said.

“That’s a girl. Ash blond disguise here we come,” she said.

I smiled. I might be able to cross the border in the car in broad daylight instead of hidden in a suitcase in the cloak of night.

“I brought makeup and clothes too,” she said, showing me her backpack. “And a scent-blocking spray!”

Rodney’s whole family was the greatest.

“Thank you, Wisteria,” I said softly.

I took a deep breath.

“I’m ready when you are,” I announced.