"His tattooed covered knuckles..."

The view ahead was a seemingly endless stretch of red dirt road, repeating itself in the rearview mirror. Nothing moved in Hope's line of vision aside from the cloud of dust stirred up by her tires and the heat that seemed to escape in waves from the pores of the desert surface. It was 98 degrees in Texas today, and the temperature was not much different from the Louisiana heat. However, this heat felt pleasant to the skin. It wasn't muggy and suffocating like the boggy weather of New Orleans. Hope had to admit that she preferred the dry heat over the humid heat.

Hope had strayed from the interstate some ways back. She had grown bored of the constant view of crammed traffic and the annoying idiocy of incompetent drivers. Some might mistake her annoyance for hatred towards humankind, but that wasn't necessarily the case. It wasn't that she didn't like people. She did. She didn't like stupid people.

She had left Grapevine, Texas, not long ago, and it hadn't occurred to her, at the time, that she and her car were running on mere fumes. She quickly thought back to the last time she had eaten and made a face, realizing it had been 6:30 that morning. It was no wonder her stomach was growling for her attention. Glancing down at the gas gauge, she made another sour face before pulling off to the side of the road. She had needed to stretch her legs anyway.

As she stepped out, she let out a soft sigh of relief when her long legs were able to release from their cramped position. Driving for eight hours certainly had its effect. She removed her phone from the back of her revealing jean shorts and checked for any notifications. After replying to the few she had, she opened a map app and searched for the nearest rest spot that didn't involve her having to drive back to Grapevine. Luckily, there was a little diner with a few pumps a couple of miles down the road from where she pulled over. It would be the perfect place to reevaluate and freshen up.

Quickly, she examined her car, ensuring there weren't any scratches from flinging pebbles on the road. The black exterior didn't appear to have any damage, aside from a light dusting of red that she could clean off later. Pleased, she slipped back into the driver's seat and adjusted her black t-shirt so her skin didn't touch the already scorched interior. She turned on the air-conditioning full blast and continued her drive forward.

Not long later, Hope could make out a little building on the distant dusty horizon. As the image became focused, she was relieved to see a couple of cars, including a green pickup, parked in the lot in front. Well, at least she wouldn't be entering some completely desolate place where horror movies take place.

She pulled up at the first pump she saw and stepped out, boots scuffing the ground as she checked for a credit card slot. There was none. Hope glanced up at the pump number before walking towards the diner. She had a sophisticated, confident walk. Confident, not cocky.

The inside diner was how she assumed it would be. The scent of fresh coffee on the burner and fried eggs wafted in her direction, making her mouth water. Hope put on a pleasant smile and walked towards the front counter, where a plump woman with short red hair was wiping down the surface after what looked to be an orange juice spill. She looked up and grinned brightly.

"What can I do for ya, hun?" she asked in a thick Texan accent.

Smiling, she responded, "I'd like to put a few on pump three," she said, using her own Louisiana accent. Hope was remarkably talented with different accents for whatever occasion she needed. She naturally held her mother's northern accent, accompanied by the occasional London and Louisiana twang she'd picked up from her surroundings and the rest of her family. The stretch of masks she could wear conveniently helped her fit into most places she visited.

"Alrighty, what about anythin' to eat and drink ya, darlin'?" she asked as she took out a pen from behind her ear and withdrew a small notepad from her front apron pouch.

Hope slipped a twenty from her wallet and handed it to the woman before looking at the menu taped to the counter. "How about the special and a coffee?" she asked.

"Comin' right up. You go ahead and get yourself some gas, and by the time you get back, it'll be ready for ya," the friendly woman answered.

With a nod and smile, Hope went back out into the scorching heat to fill her tank up. It didn't take long to finish; she even managed to sponge some red dust off her car and went back inside. Her baked skin greeted the cool air with relieved goosebumps. On the front counter was the meal she ordered there, and it took a lot of willpower to pass it by without taking a bite to wash up in the bathroom first. Hope was impressed by the place's cleanliness and service quality, despite being far out of reach from the closest city.

Sitting down for her meal, she could hear her stomach thanking her for each bite that slid down her throat. As she ate, she suddenly became aware of the chatter amongst a group of people in a far-off corner of the cramped diner. Regulars, she thought to herself as she reached for the white ceramic mug of dark coffee. She raised it to her lips when she froze immediately. A very familiar scent made her heart skip a beat. Looking down at the murky liquid, she closed her eyes and breathed in the steam, which burned her nose and made her eyes water. Her suspicion had been correct. Vervain tainted the coffee.

Carefully she set the mug back down on the counter as the woman who served her passed. "Somethin' wrong, hun?" she asked, "Coffee ain't burnt, is it?"

"No," Hope covered immediately, "It's all great, thank you." Unfortunately, her eyes didn't hold the same warmth as her words tried to convey. The people in this diner served vervain in their coffee. This bit of information led Hope to believe they must know about vampires; thus, this was not a place she should have stepped foot. She noticed the diner suddenly grew quiet, and her eyes flitted across the room to see the group in the corner had stopped talking. They were watching her. A couple of them smirked while others held stern gazes. In particular, one sizeable biker-looking man with a shaved head cracked his tattooed covered knuckles in a threatening manner.

This was what her family had warned her about, what she had tried so very hard to prove she could handle on her own. She could do this. Her very first test started now. First, search for all the exits if anything got out of hand. There was the front entrance and a relatively small window in the women's restroom, and she was confident there would also be a back exit for the employees. Now it was time to decide her course of action. Stay here and finish her meal, or pay the bill and split.

The logical portion of her brain screamed for her to ask for the check and leave; you couldn't kill what you couldn't catch. But the stubborn, stupid side of her brain - which she was almost certain she'd gotten from her father - told her to sit where she was and finish her meal. To her partial dismay, the logical side won over.

"Can I actually have a box to go? I should be getting on my way...." Hope just had to act naturally until she could get out to her car.

The woman looked back at her, a glint of something nasty in her eyes, but she quickly covered it up with a smile. "Of course," she said, sliding a styrofoam box her way, taking the ten-dollar bill from Hope's hand and giving back the change, "You take care now," she said, an almost wicked essence hidden behind her friendly tone. Something was unsettling about the way she looked at her. Perhaps it was nothing, but it still made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

"Thanks..." Hope responded slowly, casting one last glance at the table of gawkers. Then, quickly pulling her gaze away, she walked outside and embraced the heat. For now, it meant safety. She didn't stop to ponder any unanswered questions as she hopped into her crossover and started the engine. Panic washed over her for a moment when the car only sputtered and then roared to life. Hope puffed out a shaky breath and shook her head, adrenaline still pumping through her veins as she pulled onto the road again, leaving the shady diner behind. She put as much distance between them and herself as possible before she could relax more in her seat.

Hope drove for another twelve very long, very tedious hours. She stopped for gas only once in that time and did not dare to venture inside anywhere. No matter how loudly her belly growled. By midnight she could hardly keep her eyes open and knew the smartest thing to do was find the nearest motel. So she was far away from that diner and its people to feel safe pulling into a Super 8 parking lot.

Checking in wasn't an issue, and soon Hope was in a room on the first floor, keeping an escape route hidden in a back crevice of her mind. After a much-needed shower, she leaned back on the bed and set the alarm on her phone. Tomorrow was another day. There were only seventeen more hours of driving left, and then she'd be in Beacon Hills, where she'd purchase a plane ticket for her travels instead when she decided to go back home. She'd had enough exploring and adventure for one night.

Getting into a comfortable position, Hope quickly drifted off to sleep. Her body ached from her time sitting in the car, and her thoughts raced back and forth about how today's events could have ended differently. She didn't want to think of other possible endings in which, more than likely, she had a stake driven through her heart. Tomorrow will be better. It had to be.