I ditched the car, knowing there could be some sort of tracking device on it. I would either have to steal another car or find another way to travel. Staying under the radar was key to losing Maverick and the stranger who I feared would somehow find me.

I booked into a motel under another name. I hated having to let go of the name I had chosen for myself but Victoria James would attract attention I wanted to avoid. It was just a name, but to felt like I was letting go of a part of my dream to be able to mould myself into who I wanted to be.

Inside the room of the motel, I looked around the room. It didn’t look like it had been cleaned in weeks but it would have to suffice. This was the type of place that didn’t attract the type of attention I was trying to avoid. The least attention I attracted the better.

But being alone was hard. The silence only brought my thoughts to forefront of my mind. I paced trying to think of anything but Maverick. Was this part of the werewolf link to him? That made me think of him constantly when we weren’t together.

The dirty grey walls of the room began to close in on me. Even the possibility of being discovered couldn’t keep there any longer. Hastily, I dashed out of the room and took a deep breath of the cooling air, trying to stave off the fear of the claustrophobia that had gripped me only moments before.

As I stood with my hands on my hips I noticed a luminescent sign across the street. It was a bar, the quiet type that I was used to.

My chest rose and fell with each hurried breath, like I had just run a marathon. I could do with a stiff drink to ease the array of emotions I was struggling with. Some emotions were old, some were new.

I stood debating for a few minutes before I strode across the quiet street and to the bar. Inside it was filled a dull smoke air but I breathed it in like it was home.

There were a few patrons at the bar, nursing their drinks quietly as the bar tender, a big burly bearded man drying a glass with a cloth.

“A whiskey,” I ordered.

“Ice?” he asked.

I shook my head.

He set the glass he had been drying on the bar and poured a tot of whiskey.

“Double please,” I ordered.

He eyed me out before he proceeded to pour me another one.

I took the glass and downed the entire contents in one go. I grimaced and wiped my burning mouth with the back of my hand while the liquid burned it’s way down my throat.

His eyes widened.

“Another.” I needed a few to calm down. The drink I had downed was just the start.

“Double?” he raised an eyebrow.

I nodded. He poured it while I took the nearest seat at the bar.

I took a sip and set it back down. I hated the taste of the strong alcohol but it was the only thing that seemed to calm me.

Staring at my reflection in the back of the bar mirror in-between the bottles of hard liquor I had time to think about what had happened to me in the last couple of days. From the time I had arrived in the small town, to the time Maverick had kidnapped me off the street, to being locked up and questioned. It was when I got to the moment I had discovered my connection to Maverick, I felt a pang of guilt for running out on him.

But I argued with myself, that if he knew the truth he would understand. It was the only thing from keeping me from going back.

It wasn’t an option. I had already passed the point of no return.

I needed a new name that would go with my new life. None of the names that I came up with felt right so eventually I gave up. I had given the name of Sarah Green at the motel. It would have to do for the moment until I could come up with a more permanent name.

I found a corner in the bar and sat there for the rest of the evening, slowly sipping my drink, allowing the effects to take place and make me more relaxed.

No amount of logic could shut out the guilt that I was running out of Maverick. He had at least deserved a face to face conversation but the truth was I was a coward. I wasn’t strong enough to face him.

It was about an hour later I noticed a guy studying me from across the room. He was older than me, dressed in a leather jacket. He averted his gaze when mine met his. It was time to leave. I had come for a few drinks but it was time to leave before I caused any trouble besides I didn’t like how the guy was looking at me.

It was sending me from guilt to confrontation and that never ended well for me. I had been in a few bar scuffles, nothing I hadn’t been able to talk my way out of. I used every female wile I possessed to get me out of some tight spots. When all else failed, that’s when I used the tears.

Most guys couldn’t handle a crying girl. It usually worked like a charm.

I rose, I was slightly unsteady. I had definitely overdone it but there was no undoing it. Beside I was buzzing and for the first time my mind wasn’t running around with emotions of fear and guilt. Drunk, I was bullet proof, unstoppable, confident. Ready to take on the world and any issues. All the things I felt I lacked in my sober state.

At the bar, still watching the guy out of the corner of my eye, I paid my bill.

I had found some money stashed in the car. I was thankful for whoever had left it. Most people would have felt like it was stealing, but I didn’t look at it like that. It was there to be taken. If the owner hadn’t wanted someone to take it they would have put it in a safe place. It was simple.

Outside, it was colder. I didn’t have a jacket so I wrapped my arms around myself to try and keep myself warmer. The alcohol warmed my blood.

The motel seemed much further away after a few drinks so I slowly made my way across the street. Usually I would have sussed out the place for a while to make sure there wasn’t anything suspicious but the alcohol had impaired any self preservation I had.

“Miss.”

I stopped and turned to the owner of the soft voice. It was the man from the pub.

“What do you want old man?” I put a hand to my hip. All I wanted was to get back to the motel and crawl into bed and sleep the alcohol out of my system.

He studied me.

“What do you want?” I asked, annoyed. “If this is your way of chatting up girls you need to work on your technique.”

He smiled at me but there was nothing friendly about. In fact it made me straighten up. It was more the hunter and the prey. The hairs on my arm stood up and I knew I was in a dangerous situation. Drunk and in a foreign environment wasn’t counting in my favor, in fact it put me at a disadvantage.

There was no way I was going to give this guy an inkling of what was going on beyond the surface.

“You need to be more respectful,” the stranger warned me, his jaw twitching.

I scoffed. How dare he speak to me like that? Who did he think he was? My temper sparked to life. This was not going to end well.

“I think you have more to worry about than my respect. Your lame attempt to pick me up is laughable,” I shot back, unable to stop myself from riling him up.

And then I did my usual move. Doing something I knew would only throw gasoline on the fire.

“You’re too old for me, I like young men.” And I winked at him.

His smile tightened and his hands fisted. I had not made the smartest move.