Page 1 of Wicked Dove (Institute Thirteen #1)

ONE

ELODIE

“Get back here you wretched bitch!”

The door slams shut behind me, rocking the trailer with its force as I ignore my father’s screaming. There will be consequences; there always are, but I may as well delay them for as long as I can. Besides, Walker won’t wait forever.

I make it two lots along before the telltale creak of our trailer door opening rings in the air. Even from this distance, I can smell the liquor my father all but bathes in. My nose crinkles in distaste as I attempt to hide behind the closest trailer, but I’m not so lucky.

“I know you’re there, whore. Get your ass back in here now!”

My heart rattles in my chest as always, my pulse quickening in my ears as his raspy breaths grow harsher.

“Elodie, let’s not do this,” my mother mumbles from his side.

Anger snaps through my veins at the quiet plea from my mother. I know it’s him I’m actually mad at, but her… she chooses this again and again and again. I’m done living with the consequences of her actions. I’d rather deal with my own; at least I’ve earned those for myself.

If she weren’t so subdued in his presence, so submissive, so spineless, then I’d be free of these chains that refuse to let me go.

My hands ball into fists as the sound of their bickering rings through the night, neither of them bothering to leave the doorway of the trailer as they wait for me to come crawling back.

They don’t actually need me for anything right now, my father just wants to make a point, and I don’t care to return for the lecture accompanied by a prolonged beating, or the hostile environment.

I’m nineteen. I should be long gone by now. So why aren’t I?

The unfurling frustration seeping into my bones turns on me as I become the focus of my rage.

Taking a deep breath, I swallow it down.

I can see the beam of Walker’s headlights from here.

He’s not going to hang around much longer.

If I want to get the hell out of here, I need to move now, which means I need to put a pin in the self-loathing weighing heavily on my chest.

One look up at the moon and my mind is made up.

Darting along the length of the trailer, which is currently shielding me from my father’s griping, I thank my lucky stars that no one else is out tonight because they definitely wouldn’t be on my side. They’d call my father’s name as they knocked me to the ground, taking pride in overpowering me.

I’m almost in the clear, but I know there’s no avoiding the stone trail, and as predicted, my name is a sneer from my father’s lips the second it crunches beneath my feet.

“Elodie!”

Walker must hear him too because the lights draw closer through the tree line, coming to my aid, but I don’t ease up until I see his face.

All the good in the world falls into place the moment my eyes crash with his, the rightness of my decision immediately lifting the weight of doubt that had settled in my stomach.

“Get in,” he grunts, leaning across the cab to swing the passenger door open, and I jump inside.

He screeches down the worn dirt back road before I even have the door closed. As soon as I slam it shut, I tug on my seatbelt, refusing to piss my favorite person off.

A knowing smile curls on his lips the moment I glance at him. He’s scolded me enough times over the damn safety contraption for me to put it on instinctively, and I’m sure there’s a part of him that likes the sense of control it gives him.

Before I can worry myself over the fact that I’m surrounded by men attaching me to strings and forcing me to dance to their beat, I’m caught up in the laughter that fills the air.

I join him, the sound mingling between us, both of us spurring the other on as we head out onto the main road. Damn, that was an adrenaline rush.

As the noise dulls down, a comfortable calmness washes over us.

We don’t speak as he cuts through town, doing twenty over the speed limit while I lose myself in the lure of the street lights framing the night sky.

As always, he gives me comfort and the space to gather myself. I don’t think I’ve ever left my trailer in a good mood. I’ve definitely never climbed into his car without adrenaline pounding through my veins, stealing my breath and rattling me from head to toe.

It seems like routine for me to spend the entire time silently seeking the words to ask him to take me away from here. Far, far away, but I never quite manage to ask that much of him. He already does enough.

He’s the light in my bleak life, my solid, my best friend. He’s enough without asking for more.

Especially when I have nothing to offer him in return.

Some would probably question our dynamic. Hell, I know I do most days, but it just works.

“I have a job for us tonight,” he states, cutting through my thoughts, and I turn my attention from the world passing by outside to the man beside me.

His cropped brown hair is almost to the scalp, the trademark look for a man who has served time.

Even five years later, he still refuses to let it grow.

It suits him. The edgy vibe, sharp jawline, and piercing blue eyes are all the features that the ultimate bad boy requires. He’s got the formula locked down.

In another life, I would love him. In another life, he would love me.

But in this life, we’re not meant to be.

After one drunken attempt at a kiss three years ago, we’ve never gone there again.

There are many reasons that explain why we’re not meant to be together, and as much as I’m the one who added most of them, I silently hate them too.

More than anything, he’s my constant. Even though my life is unstable, no matter what I do, he offers comfort amidst the chaos. I don’t want to ruin this. Not for anything. There’s the added fact that he’s seventeen years my senior, but that only ever seems to be a problem for him.

No matter what, one day I’m going to get out of here for good. I just have to convince him to come with me—which I still haven’t done.

He raises an eyebrow at me, reminding me that he spoke, and I quickly clear my throat as I sit up straighter in my seat.

“A job?” I ask, familiar with the kinds of jobs he usually has, but there’s something extra in his eyes, a sparkle I can’t quite identify.

He nips at his bottom lip as he nods. “Yup. A big payer, too,” he states, making my heartbeat flutter.

“How big?” I tuck my left leg under me as I turn slightly, giving him my full attention.

“Big.” He smirks, knowing exactly how much he’s getting under my skin.

Pursing my lips, I start to shift again when his palm lands on my leg, holding me in place. My gaze burns into where he’s touching me. I don’t like hands on me. It makes my teeth grind together, but I breathe through the rush of defensiveness that simmers beneath the surface.

I lift my gaze to his, watching him watch me as he clears his throat. Without a word, he slowly pulls back his hand and places it on the steering wheel. “Fifty.”

“Fifty?” I repeat, my blood still a little spiked as I try to work past it.

“Grand,” he adds, and my jaw falls slack.

“Fifty thousand?” I clarify, and he nods, a manic smile on his face as I gape at him in disbelief.

“How? When? What the hell does that involve?” My questions come out in rapid succession, making him snicker.

His attention shifts back to the road as he merges onto the highway. “Tonight, and because I’m good at this. Don’t worry about what it involves, it’s going to be worth it, right? Fifty fucking grand, Elodie.”

“Fifty for you or to split?” I press, remembering a few times when my cut was worse than zero because I somehow ended up paying for the damn gas.

The pointed look he gives me fills me with hope. “Right down the middle.”

I feel the color drain from my face. Right down the middle would be twenty-five thousand dollars.

That’s the kind of money that changes your life.

That’s get-the-hell-out-of-Dodge and never have to deal with your worthless parents again kind of money.

That is the pinnacle of no longer holding yourself back type of money.

“Walker,” I breathe, and he hums, glancing at me from the corner of his eye.

“It’s time, Elodie.”

“Time for what?” It takes everything to keep my voice steady, but I’m a little nervous about what he means.

“It’s time we got the hell out of here.”

“For real?” He nods, but it’s not enough. “You’re ready?”

“I think I’ve been ready for a while. I’m done here; you’re past done here. I had a life before this and I’m ready to reclaim it,” he states, shooting my eyebrows up to my hairline as I blink at him.

He never talks about his past. Not ever.

“That’s good, Walker,” I murmur with a nod, certain I’m turning into one of those needy girls who wants him to clarify exactly what he means, but I don’t want to push. This is the first time he’s been willing to talk about getting out of this town. I just have to hope he means together.

Silence falls over the car as he exits at the next offramp and pulls into the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse. He turns off the car and the headlights fade away shortly after, leaving us sitting silently as the darkness settles around us.

With every second that passes, I can’t help but feel the weight of my life in this moment.

If this goes through, I can leave. The money is… eye-opening. I could be on the next bus out of here. I could be in the next state over by morning if Walker is driving. Either way, I could be more than the high school dropout just getting by with no prospects, no desire, no life.