I don’t fucking care.
But every time I remind myself,I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care, more tears well in my eyes, no matter how I scrub them with the back of my hand or my shirt.
Fuck.Fuck.
“Mylo?”
Her voice behind me slices to my core.
I push off the tree and sprint again, clumsy now, panicked. I crash through a tangle of branches and stumble over a dense bush. Pain slices my skin, and my over-sharp nose pricks with the scent of my blood, but I keep running.
“Mylo!” Her call pierces the forest, close and getting closer. “Mylo, for the love of… Stop running!”
I won’t.
I can’t.
“Mylo!”
Her footfalls approach behind me, easily gaining ground.
Fuck her for being taller, faster.
Fuck her for not being clumsy like she should be at that size, for being more agile than she has any right to be.
The closer she gets, the more I panic. Like an injured rabbit making one last desperate bid to outrun the fox.
The leaves crunch right behind me, and I scream.
Her arms close around me like jaws.
I kick, I fight, I bite, I yell.
I might as well be fighting with a steel statue.
Christine’s breath stays even, calm, as she grapples to keep hold of me. I twist and lurch in her grip, blood making my skin slick.
No use.
Panic rising, I cycle through every strike and technique I know—not for performance, but for self-defense—aiming elbows at her ribs, shoving my knee into her gut.
What blows she doesn’t evade earn little more than a low grunt.
I struggle and writhe until my back is locked against her chest, one arm tight across my shoulders, too close under my chin for me to bite, while the other pins my arms at my sides. Her legs trap mine from above and outside, holding them flat to the ground, where I have no leverage.
I try to whip my head back into her chin, but she has too much height on me, and it just thumps against her chest. My second attempt ends with the arm across my shoulders shifting lightning-quick to grasp my jaw, pressing my head against her sternum.
I can’t move. I’m totally and completely locked in place.
Shallow, fear-laced breaths quiver in my lungs.
And then she does the worst thing she could possibly do.
She starts purring.
The sound travels directly into my chest, into the core of my nervous system. From the inside out, from spine to fingers and toes, my body relaxes against my will.
Calm and safety settle around me, but tears slide down my cheeks. A choked sob escapes, then another.
