There’s gravel under the waistband of my skirt and mud in my hair.
From where he’s tied up in the back seat, Truman’s barks are frantic.
“Don’t you dare drive away!” I scream, tears of shock and anger mixing with the rain. “Truman!”
Nathan slams the door.
“No, that’s my dog! You can’t take my dog!”
The car skids as Nathan makes an abrupt U-turn.
Tripping over my shoes, I race after him, feet scraping on the wet asphalt as the car disappears back toward the city. I run until I can’t run anymore, until my chest feels like it’s about to cave into itself and my feet bleed.
Then I collapse on the side of the road, chest aching from the sobs and the cold air.
“Truman, no.Help!” I scream to the empty street. “Help! Someone, help! He took my dog!”
I don’t know how long I limp down the middle of the street, crying. My eyes swollen with tears, I slap at my mud-crusted phone, which is still stuck on the update screen.
“Oh my god.” My breath sounds ragged. I force myself to move, to head back toward Seattle glowing in the distance.
It’s—what? Fifteen miles? Maybe I’ll make it to work on time. I have to at least do that.
My fiancé already kicked me out of my town house. I can’t lose my job too.
Maybe if Iwasn’t so sick with worry about Truman, I’d feel cold, I’d shiver. Truman’s never been away from me, not ever since I got him as an adolescent rescue puppy. He’s going to be so upset.
“Help!” The word croaks out through numb lips, my breath clouding around me in the icy cold.
How could I be so stupid? How did I not see that Nathan was secretly insane? How was I so blind?
I thought I was different from my mother, thought I’d learned from the mistakes she made choosing terrible men to bring into our home.
But I haven’t.
Willow would always say, “This man is different. This will be the one to save us, to fix the well, to finally build that tree house I wanted, to help with the garden, to be the knight in shining armor.” But none of them ever rescued us.
So I always stepped in to rescue us. To rescue myself.
But I wish desperately someone would rescue me.
My feet are starting to sting now as I limp along the side of the road. It’s late. I’m far outside of the city, and I don’t see any headlights.
Half-asleep, I stumble and jerk fully awake as the roar of a powerful engine splits the night.Finally.Is that a headlight?
It’s not a car; it’s a motorcycle.
The shadow of the bike and its rider follow the powerful roar of the engine as the bike speeds past.
Should I call out for help? Is it a good guy or a bad guy?
The figure on it is huge and sinister and male.
Definitely a bad guy.
I don’t even have to think. I crouch down into the tall grass on the side of the road, praying he passes me by.
I have to work tomorrow. I cannot afford to get kidnapped.
