Chapter 8 - Welcome to Cranbury

The beast that saved Prisana's life was eager to rid of her. That shouldn't come as a surprise. Her presence was only a chess piece in father's and Giovanni's game of power. She's not wanted. She's needed goods. Prisana has been coming to terms with that the entire night of mulling, mulling again, and planning.

When she would deemed as a useless wife and have completed what she was meant to do, both father and Giovanni will rid of her as well. Rid of her by keeping her housed in luxurious mansions grinning happily beside a man who does not love or care for their children.

She would have been content with her happily ever after if not for their betrayal. Running away was spontaneous and unplanned. Meeting him was also spontaneous and unplanned.

Despite the brooding beast inhabiting the vicinity, she quite like the woodsy, grassy, and pine tree odors. The small cozy cabin in the middle of thick patches of flower blooming greenery. Even the peaceful lullabies of birds chirping and faint rustling of trees, Prisana has found them all to be endearing.

Just not the man himself that owns her solace and hates the idea of her.

Two can play at the hating game. If he was so hell bent on hating and getting ridding of Prisana, then she would be just as cruel. She had never harbored as much as a cruel bone in her body but he meant business and to deal with men like him, she had to mean her feelings like a transaction.

This was not a heartwarming tale of a beast who saves his princess.

No. This was a story of a beast who refuses to save a princess and the princess who doesn't need saving. She's tired of being a princess and being the good girl. The good girl who always listened to her father, went to church, and attended all private girl's academies.

Prisana's body and mind were groggy but the moment she stepped foot onto Dane's truck, she knew she had to grow a backbone somewhere as the next move was drawing near.

"You can just take me to the nearest phone booth. Then, I'll wait until someone comes to get me."

His eyes were locked onto the dirt road. "How far is your home? If it isn't too far, I can drop you off there instead."

"You have more heart than I gave you credit for," she jested, referencing to his earlier statement.

Again, hints of a smile threaten to leak out but do not. Were his lips dysfunctional?

"But don't bother. I live at least a good six to eight hour drive from here."

Dane didn't say anything else for the whole ride. She didn't bother to either. He despised small talk. Talk about his life or hers. When he spoke, it wasn't that he wanted to but that he needed to. She realized he wanted to keep a distance.

Clearly Dane was a man Prisana found to be interesting but she knew if she wandered too far off then it would be difficult to find the way out. He was right. The way out to falling too deep into his story and for him, too deep into hers.

Prisana restlessly stared at pine trees for a good hour or so until a sign that read 'Welcome to Cranbury' surfaced. Similar to Dane's cabin, the small town reeked of a woodsy lakeside retreat. Houses and shops were built with wood and laced with tourists bustling the roads. Folks even passed along the monster truck with horses.

This was all new to her, save for the fact that her wedding was situated on a mansion overlooking hills. She had never stepped foot on areas that weren't streets brimming with money.

Dane parked his truck in front of a tavern called the Iron Horse. The bell rang upon opening its doors. They were both greeted with a 'hello' from an old woman behind the counter but the woman's face soon fell in horror as she laid eyes on Dane.

Probably at his half ski mask covering his scar or his long tied black hair. Prisana couldn't blame the woman for having such a fright as Dane's figure towered above her like a bear, so condescending and so reclusive.

"D-Dane my boy? Is it my eyes playing tricks on me?" the woman asked to no one but herself as she rubbed her tear filled eyes.

She looked over to catch any hint of emotion in Dane's features but to her expectation, there was none. Dane regarded the old woman coolly with disinterest. He walked over to the stool and took a seat behind the counter. Prisana only lingered by the doorway as she felt out of place.

Seeing as she was only twenty years old, bars or places that associated with alcohol were beyond her years. The closest she's sampled to alcohol was wine but that was an acquired taste most elites in New Jersey ought to master.

"Don't. I'll explain later," Dane warns the old woman as he quickly wiped away her tears. "Give me the usual. Make it strong. I also need a phone. Now."

Poor old woman. Her eyes panned over repeatedly at Prisana, then to Dane. Words were caught in her throat as she struggled to breathe in air. If she didn't know any better, it seemed like the woman could faint at any given moment.

Even before the woman managed to speak, her hands were already deliberately working on fixing Dane a drink.

"A-A-Alright," she stammered out, watching me kick the dust on the floor. "Miss, you can take a seat anywhere you'd like. And Dane, we have a phone in the back that you can use."

"Not for me, for Prisana."

She glanced over to Prisana. Then Prisana looked over to Dane for help but she should have known better. Dane turned his face away so that Prisana was left stranded to feign for an explanation. If this woman were his relative or someone that knew him well, how did she even begin to explain their relationship?

That she was a runaway bride who by unfortunate coincidence, fell into an unwanted beasts property? They didn't know each other well and what Prisana knew of him, she didn't particularly like. Finally, Prisana deviously grinned.

"It must be a lot for you to take in but Dane and I, we're engaged."