The prickling on the back of my neck won’t let me dismiss this. You don’t get as far as I have in my world without strong instincts you’re willing to follow. My instincts scream at me that something is very wrong.
“Do me a favor?” I mutter, one eye on the mirror as I weave from one lane to the other, tucking myself between a pair of SUVs. “Sit up, feet on the floor.”
“What? Why?”
“Just do it.” That came out too sharp. I add, “Please,” and she lowers her feet to the floor.
“Is somebody following us?” She turns in her seat, peering out the back window.
“Face forward, alright? Make sure your belt is snug.”
“How did they find us? We’re so far away!” I’m asking myself the same questions. The Mercedes is to our right, just off the rear bumper. Thanks to the tinted windows, I can’t see who’s behind the wheel.
“Hang on.” With a quick jerk of the wheel, I take the truck across three lanes, ignoring the horns blaring all around us while I point us toward the exit. Lennon squeals, but I ignore that,too, only releasing the breath I’m holding once we’re on the off-ramp.
The Mercedes closes in behind us.
“Motherfucker.” I lean over and pull a gun from the glove box.
“Oh my God…”
“It’ll be fine.” I don’t know for sure that anything will be fine again. I only know that if anyone tries to put a hand on her, I’ll kill them. I won’t think twice about it.
We’re in a rural area, meaning I have plenty of room to navigate the road without worrying about other cars in the way. But the Mercedes has the same freedom. Even when I push the truck to ninety miles an hour, they’re getting closer with every second.
“Too fast,” Lennon gasps. “Oh God, please…”
“Calm down.” Easy for me to say.
What do I do? Where do I take her?
We come to a fork in the road, and I make an abrupt decision, cutting left in time for the first fat raindrops to hit the windshield. Lennon’s dismayed groan doesn’t need an explanation. This is already dangerous enough without rain added to the mix.
It seems we’re driving into the storm, and the clouds ahead of us are inky black and getting closer by the second. Flashes of green inside them promise what’s going to be a violent storm once it settles over us. The Mercedes falls back a little before the rain starts falling heavily enough that I can’t make out the car’s shape.
I flip on the high beams, searching for somewhere to turn off and get us away from them. Up ahead is what looks like an old mailbox leaning to the side and almost covered in overgrowth. Lennon shrieks when I cut to the right, taking us up a narrowpath through thick woods. The branches grow so close overhead that they almost form a roof.
I’m quick to stop, then turn off the lights and watch in the mirror.
“Did we lose them?” she asks in a breathless whisper.
I lift a shoulder, eyes trained on the mirror, waiting for some sign from the road. And I can breathe when I see headlights wash over the road before disappearing again. But that doesn’t last long since the rain is heavy enough that it’s now pouring all around us.
The directions Trent sent lead us down backroads, made of gravel and mud, with tree branches scraping the truck like claws. The world gets smaller until, finally, we find the cabin. It’s old, with weathered wood, a tin roof, and a wraparound porch, under the wear and tear of years. But it’s out of the way, hidden, and safe.
I kill the engine while Lennon looks around, all wide-eyed.
“This is definitely remote.”
“Yeah.” I get out, stretch my legs, and scan the woods. “Stay here. I’ll check it out.”
“No, please. Let me come with you. I don’t want to stay by myself.” The two of us take off on foot, running. Within moments, we’re soaked to the skin. The ground is slippery, and I have to keep wiping rain from my eyes so I can see. I take her hand, and we go for it, finally coming to a stop when we reach the porch whose roof sags and drips.
It doesn’t take much to get the door open, and the squealing hinges tell me nobody’s been here in a while. It’s been abandoned for a long time if the old calendar on the wall means anything. It’s been a year since somebody hung it there.
“I’m soaked!” Lennon squeezes water from her hair before pulling the soaked shirt over her head. She takes it to the kitchen at the far end of the first floor and wrings it out in the sink.
She’s safe. That’s what she is. Now that the adrenaline is draining away, what’s left behind is a sense of victory. She’s mine, and I protected her. Nobody’s going to touch her.
