On Sunday, the rain finally broke. Cara took the opportunity to run to the store to grab some groceries. As she was driving, she couldn’t help but think about that card. Why would someone send her a card? It just didn’t add up.

First of all, a true scammer wouldn’t have just put a number on the card. They would’ve made it all pretty, nice and attractive – probably with a pamphlet that tried to convince victims to call the number by promising debt consolidation or a fat burning solution.

Second of all, she was hardly a good person to target for any sort of scam. Fat burning? She was already slim. She took care of herself. She ate kale and quinoa, and drank kombucha. Sometimes she went to the gym before all the guys checked her out and made her uncomfortable to the point of making her leave. Debt? Nope. She was one of those rare people that plugged away at debt and lived frugally. Except for Netflix, her laptop, and basic necessities, she had a very inexpensive lifestyle. She wasn’t sure what she was saving for. It wasn’t like she had some grand plan, daringly buying into real estate and becoming crazy rich. It just felt right to have a nest egg hidden for emergencies.

She shifted lanes in traffic and spotted a glaringly unattractive car behind her. To some folks, it was probably an awesome car, but to her, it just spewed classlessness. It was a supped-up town car with spinning rims and a pair of fuzzy dice hanging from the front mirror. The whole body was covered in glittering purple-black paint. She couldn’t see much of the guy driving it from behind the darkened windshield. She just assumed it was a guy. Sexist? Maybe. Did she care? No, not really.

She kept driving and put on the blinker to get off the interstate. The obnoxious car did the same.

She shifted off the interstate toward the grocery store. A little while later, she changed lanes. The other car did too. Finally, the store’s sign came into view and she pulled in.

The car kept driving.

She let out a sigh of relief that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She was awfully tense recently. First, she got nervous about answering the door and getting attacked, and then, she thought the guy in the ugly car was following her. The poor guy was probably just trying to head home after dropping a kid off at choir practice or something, and here she was, wondering if she should be ready to call the cops. She wasn’t normally that nervous. Maybe it was the card that was putting her on edge.

She tried to shake it off as she shopped. It was like a game—pick up one thing and put one down. Pick up one gallon of almond milk and put down the stress of being single for the past year. Pick up some bananas and put down the irritation that everyone was texting her about their one-night-stand regrets from the night out that she had skipped.

As she checked out, she noticed the cashier taking a glimpse of her. His eyes widened for just a moment as he glanced over her body. It was gross. Sometimes she was okay with guys checking her out. Other times? No.

This was one of those no times.

“How are you today?” he asked.

“Fine.”

All she wanted to do was get her food and go. He kept trying to engage in conversation, obviously flirting. Some people are good at flirting; they smile at the appropriate times, wink, and ask the right questions. Cara thought she was quite talented at it, on the rare occasion she was actually attracted to someone. Sadly, the cashier didn’t do it for her. He was too…soft. She felt like she could just push him over and he’d apologize for falling. If she, quiet little Cara, felt that way about him…it wasn’t good for his cause.

She wandered back out to the parking lot to put the groceries in her car. It was a Honda, one of the old ones. She wasn’t going to wow anyone with its looks, but it was dependable and had good gas mileage. Mindlessly, she tossed the groceries in the back and sat in the front seat.

She inserted the key and the engine fired up. She put it in reverse and turned to back up, when she saw the man in her back seat, calmly smirking at her.

She shrieked at the top of her lungs and accelerated wildly, then slammed on the breaks, sending the guy flying between the front two seats into the dash. She accelerated again and spun the wheel to avoid hitting another car or one of those cart corrals, but this time, her foot stayed on the gas.

The mystery man involuntarily jerked forward from his seat due to Cara’s erratic driving, and his face hit the gearshift with enough force that the car shifted into park. The car screeched to a halt, saved from smashing into any number of inanimate objects.

Cara screamed. “Holy shit! Who are you and what are you doing in my car?”

He peeled himself off the gearshift. A thin stream of goldish liquid was leaking out from his mouth. “You made me bite my tongue!”

He had golden blood? But she had other things to worry about, namely the fact that there was a man she didn’t know that had somehow managed to sneak into her locked car.

“Get out!” she screamed.

Nobody outside the car looked worried. When she’d nearly plowed through some other vehicles, she’d attracted a couple glances, but nobody seemed too concerned.

“Calm down,” he snapped, putting a hand to his nose.

She went for the door, but he beat her there. He lunged across her chest and slammed the lock button. It slid down with a pleasing snap. He grabbed her hands to keep her from running away.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said.

His voice sounded like a cello being gently stroked – deep, strong, and oddly soothing.

“Just listen to me.”

Cara wasn’t sure if it was the shock setting in, but she nodded her head in agreement. She couldn’t believe it; someone was in her car. She was being held captive in her own vehicle in the parking lot of a large store, with lots of people around.

He released her hands, and she didn’t go for the door. He’d beat her to it once. He could beat her to it again.

“W…why are you in my car?” she hissed. Where was that pepper spray? She’d carried around one of those little vials of pepper spray for years. Dammit! She’d left it in the glove box.

He clambered into the front seat, which is where she got a great view of him. He was built like a bull, laden with muscle, but not too muscular to inhibit his movement. He looked strong and fast, like a professional athlete. His golden, tanned skin complemented his dark hair.

“You’re in danger,” he said, meeting her eyes. His eyes were striking, and were like nothing she’d ever seen before. They were light brown, almost orange, with a tint of gold right around the pupil. Cara wasn’t sure why her brain decided to isolate the peculiar color of his eyes right then, but it did.

What really confused her was that her heart fluttered.

“In danger? From you?” she snapped back.

“No, from Ezekiel.”

He raised his brawny arm to point across the parking lot. There, across a couple minivans, was the glittering purple car.

He had followed her after all.

Any doubt she might have had was eliminated when she saw the fuzzy dice. She noticed the smallest hint of movement inside.

The guy in her car kept talking, which was a good thing. She couldn’t even form words. A stranger—a male stranger—was in her car, and it seemed that someone was following her. It was like an action movie, one that she wasn’t willingly a part of. No, it wasn’t an action movie; it was a horror movie.

But she didn’t see any directors and she didn’t see any cameras. She had no choice but to hear her captor out.

“Ezekiel’s been following me for months now,” he said. “Ezekiel and a bunch of bastards just like him. Now they’re following you. They think you’re working with me. Speaking of which…why didn’t you call me?”

“You’re the one who left me the card?”

“Obviously.”

There was a pause. She groaned.

“You’re waiting for me to ask, aren’t you?”

“Yup.”

“Why’d you send me the card?”

“I need your help.”

“I can’t help you! I tend to have a strict policy against helping men who have kidnapped me.”

“I didn’t kidnap you.”

“You’re holding me hostage in my own car!”

He raised his eyebrow, folded his arms, and sat back.

“Go ahead. Leave if you want. But know that Ezekiel won’t buy your story of innocence. He’s going to kill you.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

“What if I told you that there are things that you don’t know about the world? What if I told you that your mortal eyes have only seen the smallest sliver of reality? Just one page out of an entire book?”

“I’d take the blue pill. Or is it the red one?”

His smile faded into a snarl for a moment, which is when she noticed he had sharp teeth. His two canines were sharp, almost like fangs.

“Ha. Very funny. I knew you wouldn’t be easy to convince.” Sighing, he said, “You humans never are…”

With that, a frightening change overtook him.

One moment, he was human. Then his jaw grew longer, his fangs sharper, his eyes brighter. He had a small, professional beard that sprang across his entire face, covering his head in shaggy black fur.

And then he was back to human.

Cara looked for the air to scream. She had just seen the impossible. Part of her wondered if she was going crazy and there wasn’t actually anyone in her car. Part of her wondered if the guy was real and about kill her.

But she never got to find out because right then, faced with a wolf-man, her brain elected to give up the struggle of deciphering real life from the imaginary and caused her to pass out.