006: Home

Lara

And so, my journey to Elwood begins.

On the way, I sell my dress. It's designer and worth a good penny. I sell my shoes, too. They won’t help me where I’m going. I buy second-hand clothes and keep the rest of the money for food.

Before, I used to have all the food I wanted, and now, I'm struggling to even have a meal a day.

I’m still a long way from Elwood and basically hitchhiking until I get there. I have to do a ton of walking every day and wait for a car to stop by. Nobody drives to that area—Elwood is specifically for rogues. The only reason why I know my grandmother is there is because I heard my father mention it once over the phone.

‘Not sure how I can be her son when she chooses to live like a rogue in Elwood and I wouldn’t touch a rogue with a ten-foot pole.’

I don’t know what awaits me at the end of my journey. Will I even find her there? Is she still alive? I’ll only find out when I get there.

It never crosses my mind to turn back and go home. For some reason, I’ve stopped trying to want to explain things and make amends. They’ve abandoned me. What else is there to explain or even talk about? Finch betrayed me in the worst way possible. My father treated me like garbage and refused to hear my side.

I try to leave all of this behind me.

I also try not to think about the man from the rooftop, my fated mate who ended up being the worst thing that ever happened to me. I only do once I get very sick over the course of a few weeks, throwing up every chance I get.

“You’re sure you’re not pregnant?” the woman sitting next to me in the back of the truck asks me. She’s pregnant herself. “I was like that in the beginning.”

I give her a confused look. I thought that maybe what I have is a stomach flu or something. Maybe I ate something bad. She then sees my confusion and adds, “If you are, you don’t want your baby around strangers. These guys will do anything for money. If you don’t have someplace safe to give birth, try to find one quickly. I’m going to my mate’s mother’s place. They’ll take care of me there.”

Pregnant.

I don't like how heavy the word is in my mind. Pregnant. I try to think back to that night but it's vague now. He pulled out, though. I'm pretty sure of that. Shame colors my cheeks red but there's nothing I can do about that. What's done is done.

All I can do is face what's yet to come, and it seems to me like I'll have my hands full.

Lycan pregnancies last only six months, which is less time than other shifters need. So, in three months, I'm halfway there, and strangely enough, I still haven’t found Elwood. So, I stop at other towns like Dagwood and Oliwood, and stay at shelters with other rogues until I can find someone who knows the exact directions to the place that’s starting to seem like a fantasy to me.

Maybe just misheard my father. Maybe she isn’t there. I don’t lose hope, though. I can’t.

My belly isn't as big as I thought it would be, so it's fairly easy for me to hide it under a big sweater. Finding food is difficult, and most times, I have to resort to stealing. All the while, I never confront the idea of what I've now become. I take each day as it comes, never dwelling much on the 'what ifs' or the 'what was'.

Sitting down and thinking about what has become of my life is too painful. Whenever I think about it too much, I feel like I can't move forward.

Nobody at the shelter in Oliwood—the new town I’m in—knows I'm a Lycan. They’re all common werewolves and there’s not a Lycan to be seen for miles. My fear is that if someone who knows a Lycan find out about me, they might immediately associate me with my father or someone in his circle and he might discover where I am, which isn't what I want. I don’t want to be found by him or anyone.

My past is dead and buried along with everyone in it.

I feel desperate, though. I have to reach Elwood before the other three months are up, and I’m afraid that I’m running out of time.

I keep remembering the woman’s words. I feel it too, even though I can’t explain why. The need to find someplace safe to give birth.

I never stop trying to find someone to take me there. On my fifth month, I come across a hippie rogue couple fetching supplies to take to Elwood. It happens by chance and I feel so lucky that I can only consider this to be a miracle.

“You’re taking supplies to Elwood?”

The woman—a gorgeous red-hair like me—turns around with a wide smile on her face. Large hoop earrings dangle from her ears. She nods. “Yes. We live there.”

“I haven’t come across many people from there,” I confess. I try to keep the conversation light and hide the despair from my voice. “I know someone who lives there.”

“Really?” she asks, surprised. “Who?”

“Her name’s Rose. Rather, that’s how I know her by.” I’ve come to find out that many people change their names when they become rogues. It’s easier to avoid complications.

“Rose?” she asks. I can’t tell from her tone whether she knows her or not. My heart’s slamming against my chest as I watch her. She turns to her mate and tugs at his shirt. He looks away from the trunk of his car and fixes her a look. She tells him, “She’s looking for Rose.”

It’s the man’s turn to give me a funny look. “Why? How do you know her?”

“She’s my grandmother.”

This time, their eyes widen. “You’re her granddaughter?”

I nod.

“I’ll be damned,” the man says.

“I’ve been trying to find her for months,” I tell them both. I don’t know why, but my hand instinctively goes to my belly, and the woman’s eyes follow it. She then nods as if in understanding.

“We have to get going, then.”

I discover that their names are Annette and Paul. They’ve been rogues forever, and have lived in Elwood for years.

“It’s not the place you might think it is,” he tells me with one hand on the steering wheel. “It’s pretty nice compared to these other shitholes. Your grandmother Rose is respected there. She’s something of an Alpha to us.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he answers. “Even though there’s no leadership among us, we look up to her.”

His mate is sitting next to me with a comforting arm around me. I feel safe. This thought brings tears to my eyes but I keep them at bay. She says, “You’ll be fine. Rose will help you. She’ll be very happy to see you. She’s been alone for so long.”

“How long until we get there?”

“It’s a week on the road,” he says. I’m counting the weeks in my head. It’ll only leave me around two weeks to give birth.

We stop by places to sleep. They only have one sleeping tent and Paul lets me share it with Annette while he sleeps in the car. I offer them money but they don’t accept it, claiming that my grandmother has been good to them too many times for them to ever charge me a cent.

As a child, I never asked my father why she’d left. One day, she was there, and the next, she was gone. I heard my father say the word Elwood and her name on the phone and that was it for years. I think I asked him once and his reaction made me decide to never ask again. We didn’t see her all the time; only occasionally. She always lived far.

I realize now that maybe she’s always lived in Elwood, which brings about, again, so many questions that I can hardly contain my curiosity and excitement to see her.

When we get there, Paul drives up to a small house that’s been painted white. Right up front, there’s an older woman hanging clothes on a line. Her back is to me but it’s my grandmother. A decade older, but it’s her.

Paul and Annette get out of the car. I follow cue. She greets them with a warm smile on her face which reminds me of the last time I saw her. She smiled at me just like this.

“Look who’s come to visit,” she says.

“Rose, we have someone here for you,” Paul says before turning to me and waving at me to join them.

“Who?” she asks curiously before turning her head and looking my way.

My step falters and an introduction hangs from the tip of my tongue. Maybe she doesn’t recognize me. It’s been years, after all.

However, she surprises me by saying, “Lara? Lara, is that you?”

I pause, a knot forming in my throat that stops me from speaking. Tears fill my eyes and sting my nose. She comes up to me, her arms wide and welcoming, and holds me for so long that I can’t help but sob.

“It’s okay, my darling,” she says soothingly in my ear as she pats my head comfortingly. “You’re home now. You’re home.”