I swing with everything I have.
The pan connects with the side of his head, and a sickening thunk reverberates up my arms. Calder staggers backward, the cup falling from his hand, making water splash across the floor in an arc. He presses a hand to the side of his head, and I catch sight of the bright red blood seeping between his fingers. Oh God. I did that. I hurt him.
I drop the pan on the floor, and it lands with a loud clatter.
“Jesus Christ,” he growls.
I don’t think about what I’ve done. I just move. I dig into his pockets to snag his truck keys, then stab my feet into a sparepair of boots by the door, hugging the blanket tighter around my frame.
No chain to stop me this time. Nothing but open space between me and freedom.
My hands fumble with the latch, precious seconds ticking away, and then?—
The door flies open, and I rush into the night. Snow hits me immediately, stinging my face like a thousand tiny needles, the cold so intense it steals my breath. I’m wearing only sweatpants and a flannel shirt, no coat, and too big boots. Nothing to protect me from a blizzard like this.
That doesn’t matter.
I run toward the truck, but it’s covered in snow, and I don’t have time to clear it off.Shit.Only one choice now.
“Saint!” Calder roars, the sound a mixture of fury and panic that promises pain if he catches me.
I don’t look back, and I don’t slow down. I just push forward into the blizzard, into the darkness, into whatever fate awaits me. The snow is already deep, making every step a struggle.
My feet are already numb as I trudge forward. Forget the cold, forget the pain. It’s only temporary. Think of your future. Think of your father and Allie. I pick a direction and hope it leads somewhere, anywhere, that’s away fromhim.
The trees loom around me, dark shapes in the white storm. I don’t know where I’m going. No idea if I’m heading toward town or deeper into the wilderness.
All I know is, I have to get away.
Because even dying in the snow is better than becoming his.
Even death is a choice I can make for myself.
With every step I take, the trees swallow a little more of me, and the cabin disappears from view, hidden behind a curtain of white.
Calder
“Saint!”
My voice tears through the night, raw with panic and anger I haven’t felt since, I can’t even remember when. Fear isn’t something I allow myself to feel. Fear gets you killed in my world. This is different, though. It isn’t fear for myself. It’s terror for her. I stagger out onto the porch, blood trickling down the side of my face. I don’t give a fuck if I’m bleeding.
My concern is Saint. The blizzard has intensified. The wind howls through the trees like something alive and angry. Snow falls so thick that I can barely see ten feet in front of me.
Somewhere out there, wearing not nearly enough, is Saint.
If I don’t find her soon, she’ll die.
It kills me to think that, but it’s true. I need to do something.
I grab my coat from the hook by the door, shrugging into it as I scan the ground. There, barely visible in the rapidly accumulating snow, are tracks leading away from the cabin. Small, desperate prints heading straight into the tree line.
Stupid. So fucking stupid.
I can’t blame her for trying.
Wouldn’t you do the same? Wouldn’t anyone choose the possibility of death over the certainty of captivity?
The thought doesn’t make the fear any less visceral.
