I throw my clothes in the duffle bag and creep down the stairs. When I get to the front door, a faint glow and a slight movement from a shadow catch my attention.
Slowing my breathing down, I brave a glance out the window on the side of the door. Shit. Nick’s sitting on the porch looking at his phone.
Slowly I creep back up the stairs. What am I going to do now? I stand in front of my window, get an idea. There’s a roof that overhangs the walkway below my window. I might be able to climb down the column.
My heart is racing, I may not have a lot of time. Nick could decide to come up here and check on me any minute. I’m sure he doesn’t care enough to do that, but I can’t be 100% sure.
Hecould be waiting to come in here and beat me after he thinks I’ve been asleep like my daddy used to do.
As I’m making my way down the column, I look up and realize I left the window open. Shit. I didn’t mean to leave it open but that doesn’t matter and won’t matter when I’m far away from here.
I slide a shaky hand down the column, looking for the best spot to grip and shimmy my way down. My muscles are screaming in protest, I’m not sure if I’m strong enough for this, but it’s too late to back out now.
The humid air has settled the dew. On my next downward move, the slick column causes me to lose my grip and slide down a little before regaining traction. My heart jumps to my throat. I’m still ten feet or so from the ground—if I fall, I could be seriously hurt. Each move has to be executed with precision and I’ve never been very graceful.
After several minutes of careful maneuvering and I’m about a foot or two from the ground, I let go and land in the soft grass. My heart and breath compete to see which one is going to give out first if I don’t get away from here. It’s a clear night and the moon is so bright, it illuminates my path to freedom.
I don’t look back as I make my way around the barn and over the fence towards the back pasture, my heart breaking in the process. I wanted it to work out here.
Stopping to admire the beauty of the moon reflecting in the pond, a high-pitched noise catches my attention. I look around for the source but don’t see anything. It sounds like a cat.
“Here, kitty kitty…” I call out, keeping my voice low. I hear it but I can’t see it. There’s a light rustle in the grass by my feet.
I look down and see the tiniest orange and white kitten trying to climb onto my shoe. The kitten looks up at me, meowing frantically. I pick it up and stroke its tiny little head, admiring its little features as it claws at my fingers to get closer to me.
There are no other cats in sight. This one must’ve wandered off from one of the barns.
It’s so tiny, it fits in the palm of my hand. “Hey little guy,” I say to it, “Or are you a girl?” It squirms wildly when I turn it around and look under its tail.
It looks to be a girl, but with the low lighting it’s kind of hard to tell. How sweet. I thought most orange cats were male. My fragile heart crumples at the pure innocence of this tiny little creature that ran to me and trusted me explicitly to pick her up and not harm her.
I’ve never had that much faith in humans. What am I supposed to do? I can’t take her with me. I don’t even have the means to care for myself.
I take a look around. I’m still close to the barns and there’s still plenty of hours left until daylight. If I head back to the barns and find her mama, I can give her back.
Making my way back towards the house, I hold the kitten close to my chest and she falls asleep purring. It’s the sweetest sound that tugs at my heartstrings. I wish I could keep her.
I look up as I approach the house and notice that the window I climbed out of earlier is shut. Fear slams through mybody, coursing through my veins. Somebody shut that window and knows I’ve left the house.
Shit.Frantically, I creep around the front to see if Nick is still sitting on the porch. He’s not.Double shit.My heart pounds so hard in my chest I feel it in my ears.
“Looking for someone?” a familiar deep voice growls from behind me, causing me to jump.
“No. I woke up from my nap and decided to take a walk,” I lie, afraid to turn towards him so he can read my face.
“Liar,” he taunts
I spin around to face him, but before I can speak, he raises a hand and cuts me off. “Spare me the bullshit, you don’t need a bag of clothes to go for a walk.”
“I never said I was coming back.” I stand up straight, internally trembling. Fear is telling me to run but I can’t—my body’s frozen.
“Where are you going?” He speaks softer, still menacing.
“Away. I appreciate your offer to help me, but like I said before, I don’t need your charity.” Why can’t he just leave me alone?
“Then, I’ll be having those clothes and bag back.” A wicked grin spreads across his gorgeous face. “All of the clothes, including the ones you’re wearing.” His eyes are alight with humor.
Please tell me he’s not serious.
