Wayward ➳ Edward Cullen

19. Confrontations

I knew I risked poking the bear, but I said, "This works out, Dean. They can watch him while we deal with James and Victoria."

"Vampire babysitters," Dean scoffed. He looked to me. "You trust them that much? With Sam's life?"

I wasn't wholly sure of Jasper, but Alice had never shown any problems being around people. And if she said Sam would be okay... "I guess I do."

"Esme can stay with him once we reach the cabin," Edward said after a moment. His eyes found Dean's in the rearview mirror. "She'll protect him."

Dean's hands tightened on the wheel as his shoulders bunched. He reached down and pushed a waiting tape into the player.

The first haunting notes of Blue Öyster Cult's Don't Fear the Reaper filled the car.

Apart from the tape player, the car was quiet. The sun had set, leaving it dark outside. Illuminated by headlights was the road ahead and a glimpse of the trees to either side. Fortunately, it wasn't a long trip to Bogachiel State Park.

The cabin was built on private property adjacent to the park. It was too dark to make out much, but what there was matched Alice's sketch. Particularly the small table in the yard with an old-fashioned metal watering can sitting on top. It looked decorative rather than useful.

Unfortunately, the cabin wasn't empty. A pickup truck sat in the driveway. Dean eyed it as he pulled up behind it. "Swear I've seen this truck before," he muttered.

"What'll we do if there're people here?" I asked. The thought the cabin might be occupied hadn't occurred to me before.

Dean pursed his lips before cutting the engine. "Hand me that lockbox under your seat."

There were a couple of boxes under my seat. One was cardboard that held all of Dean's mixtapes. The other was metal. That one I pulled out and handed over.

The rusted hinges creaked as he flipped it open. Inside were an array of I.D.s, all of them fakes. He rummaged through them for a minute before pulling one out. In the darkness, he squinted at it. "Mhm." He handed the box back to me and I shoved it under the seat. Dean grinned. "Say hello to Ranger Zappa."

From the backseat came a derisive, "You can't be serious."

Dean twisted far enough to glare back over his shoulder at Edward. "What's wrong with it?"

"Zappa isn't exactly inconspicuous," Edward answered.

Dean rolled his eyes before shoving his door open and getting out.

Edward looked to me. "He's serious?"

I shrugged before following Dean. Edward got out right after, shaking his head as he joined me.

The three of us trekked up the drive and to the sidewalk. "Let me do the talking," Dean insisted as he straightened out his leather jacket. Clearing his throat, he knocked.

Footsteps sounded after a few seconds. Dean got his fake I.D. ready as the footsteps thumped to the door. As the door creaked open, he smiled.

The man who answered was older, maybe mid-fifties, with a head of thinning salt and pepper hair. Dark eyes stared out beneath bushy brows. In denim and flannel, he looked like someone who might've spent a day out in the woods. "Yes, what do you—Dean?"

I glanced sharply at my brother. Dean blinked a few times before grinning, pocketing his I.D. "Frank," Dean greeted.

The older man's eyes roamed the rest of us before settling back on Dean. "What's going on?"