Unleashed by Nancy Holder Read Free Book Online

with her grandfather for dragging her to live where she couldn’t even go for a walk for fear of being ripped apart by a wild animal. She grabbed a pillow and almost threw it at the door. Instead, she hugged it against her chest, bowed her head, and whispered, “I want to leave. Please, let me leave.”

    Katelyn’s grandfather’s news scared her, but more than that, she began to worry that they were never going to leave the cabin again, even in the daylight. It drizzled and thundered all weekend, and rain, lightning, and mud were all she saw of her supposed new hometown. Because of the weather—or so he said—there was no trip to the farmers’ market, no sightseeing in town, but Katelyn realized she was fine with that. She wasn’t ready to face the world. She missed her old one way more than she could stand.
    The fireplace burned night and day, and Katelyn’s phobia—and all the animal heads—kept her out of the living room. She found a picture of her parents and her hanging on the wall next to the staircase and sat for a while and stared at them, all happy and laughing together, until she couldn’t handle it anymore. She was exhausted, and aside from talking to Kimi, mostly she slept.
    She and Ed seemed to get along better, smirking at the howls and the drums beating away in the bad weather. Katelyn thought of the Wolf Man from the plane and pictured him sitting in a gray rain poncho, urging his inner executive wolf to emerge.
    Though she slept a lot, she didn’t sleep well. Whenever she closed her eyes and began to drift, she was back in her house as it collapsed around her. She dreamed of her mother, falling, falling forever into blackness, arms stretched to Katelyn, who dove after her, plummeting and never catching her.
    She jerked awake a dozen times, shaking, pulling the covers up around her chin and staring up at her skylight. Leaves plunked onto the wet glass, obscuring the view, which was fine with her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her. Though in the light of day she was sure that was just nerves.
    On Monday, it was barely dawn when she got up. Her grandfather made her some oatmeal for breakfast; also, coffee. She was surprised again when he handed her lunch. He’d packed her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and an apple. Despite herself, she found that completely sweet.
    Trick showed promptly at six-thirty, in a creased brown leather bomber jacket, a white T-shirt, jeans, and his cowboy boots. Yawning, he asked for and received some oatmeal and coffee, too.
    “You look good,” he told her. She was wearing an embroidered indigo jacket, a long-sleeved gauze blouse, jeans, white socks, and Mary Janes. She and Kimi had snagged all of it except for the socks at various vintage shops and thrift stores in West Hollywood. Underneath the blouse, she was wearing a blue silk camisole.
    “Thanks.” She didn’t know what people wore at Wolf Springs High School. Her mind filled with images of girls in cutoff denim shorts and guys in overalls, twirling pieces of straw in their mouths. She knew that was snarky but she couldn’t shake it.
    She expected his car to be a beat-up truck like her grandfather’s and was surprised when he led her toward a lovingly restored vintage light green Mustang with black leather interior. He grinned at her and held open the door while she climbed in, settling her backpack on her lap.
    “Sweet ride, right?” he asked proudly, slipping behind the wheel.
    He turned on the engine, which purred like a tiger, and they began to roll. From the porch, her grandfather waved. She gave him a little wave back. It began to rain.
    They blazed away, into the rain and the greenery. The Mustang held the curves and Trick punched on an iPod. “Smoke on the Water” poured through car speakers.
    “Cheery,” she drawled, then cocked her head casually. “So … my grandfather told me you get beaten up for writing poetry.”
    “Oh, shit.” He laughed. “Maybe