Dixon was straddling my hips on the floor of a rustic cabin, acting erratically and breathing heavily after punching me in both the jaw and ribcage. Terror filled my entire being as he produced a syringe from his back pocket and jammed it in my neck before throwing my near-listless body over his shoulder. We had just stepped through a door leading outside when he struck a match, tossed it into the grass, and took off running. From my upside-down perspective, I watched in horror as the match ignited the grass, unleashing a violent burst of flames that rapidly spread around the property, climbing up the exterior walls in a raging inferno.
I felt the intense heat radiating from the flames on my back, and as the grass gave way to wooden planks, the cabin erupted in an explosion behind me. The effects of the drugs were taking hold; my limbs felt numb, and my mind grew increasingly foggy, tricking me into believing I had heard Boden’s voice in the distance. My confusion was soon eclipsed by the roar of an engine, which drowned out all other sounds.
My eyelids became increasingly heavy as our movement changed; the rise and fall that followed became hypnotic. Dixon’s grip on my thighs tightened while mist splashed acrossmy face, and cold air nipped away at my forearms behind my back, the only part of my body not covered by my work uniform. Suddenly, the motion shifted, and the tension within me dissipated; Dixon’s grasp was gone, and I felt myself soaring, weightless, in a whirlwind of confusion for a fleeting moment before I crashed into the coldness that swallowed me whole.
The impact sent ripples of fear coursing through me as everything around me felt muted, minus the frantic rhythm of my racing heartbeat that echoed in my ears while an unyielding chill surrounded me. I tried to open my eyes but was surrounded by an all-consuming darkness, a vast emptiness, unable to shake the sensation of sinking like an anchor farther into a chilling, shadowy abyss I didn’t understand.
I struggled to comprehend my surroundings and the reason for my overwhelming sense of confinement when Jameson’s face came into view in full color behind my eyelids. His expression was soft and longing, yet trapped behind an uncompromising barrier of fear that propelled his movements when he extended his hand toward me. I tried to command my limbs to move, but they were dead weight, shattering any hope I had of discovering a way out as the distance between me and the outline of his figure faded into the darkness surrounding me.
His presence was a lifeline, bridging my awareness to the life I yearned for. However, time was not a luxury I could afford; as my thoughts spiraled, memories rushed through me. Panic tightened its grip around my throat, robbing me of a final breath before I was ready to say goodbye.
I inhaled a deep, desperate breath and pushed against the hold that wrapped around me as the lingering echoes of fear slowly began to fade, separating my nightmare from reality.
“I’ve got you, Ari, I’ve got you.”
The comforting tone of his voice and his familiar scent provided a calming contrast to the wicked dose of adrenaline rushing through my veins while I attempted to steady my breathing. The realization that I was safe in Jameson’s embrace, no longer needing to fight, caused my body to relax and lean against his in relief.
When I gathered the strength to open my eyes, I found myself nestled against Jameson’s chest, his heartbeat a rhythmic pulse in my ear. My dad stood beside my hospital bed, trying to remain stoic in his stance.
“It’s okay, Arizona. You were just having a nightmare.” My dad tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I leaned into his touch before placing my hand over his.
“Daddy,” my voice was fragile, “I’m sorry.”
He unexpectedly collapsed in the chair behind him, dropping our joined hands to the bed. His eyes betrayed the worry he was trying to hide, but I could see the toll this experience had taken on him. The insurmountable anguish and uncertainty of not knowing if he’d see me again were evident as he wore his emotions on his sleeve. I squeezed his hand, reassuring him I was real, I was alive.
“My sweet girl, you have absolutely nothing to apologize for, you hear me.” His eyes watered. “You’re a fighter, Arizona, and you coming back to us is proof of that. I love you beyond measure and am thankful for our guardian angel watching over you.”
My mom.
“I love you too, Dad.”
While his words filled me with a sense of peace, an undercurrent of worry lingered, chipping away at the calm I should have felt surrounded by the two men who were my whole world.
“Malcolm.” I lifted my chin to look at Jameson as it all came rushing back to me, pleading silently with him to tell me he had survived. “Please tell me the backup I called for him got there in time.”
“Yes, Ari, you did good. Malcolm was released from the hospital back home yesterday, and his granddaughter flew in from Toronto to stay with him and help out.”
“Oh, thank goodness!” I exhaled deeply, placing my hand over my heart. “I was so scared we were going to lose him.”
“Nah, he’s a fighter like you.”
“And Alex? What happened to him? One minute, he was there with me on the call, and the next, he was gone.”
“He was knocked unconscious. We found Alex in the forest up on Number Five. Besides a concussion and some lacerations, he’s okay, too.”
My eyelids fluttered closed, filled with gratitude that everyone was safe.
“Ari, like your dad said, none of this was your fault. If anyone aside from Dixon is to blame, it’s me. I was driven by jealousy that night at the bar and decided to mess with him; it was me who told him you had had second thoughts and weren’t ready to date. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined my actions would have put you in harm’s way. I’m so sorry, Ari.”
“No, you saved me.” While I wasn’t sure of the specifics, I was confident he’d been there. I felt his presence all around, urging me to fight, pleading for me to hold on.
“Ari.”
“No, Jameson, no, you listen to me. Dixon was clearly unstable, and whether it was that night at McQuade’s or in the weeks or months to follow, there was bound to be something that would eventually trigger him to lose control, and that outcome could have potentially led to a far worse outcome. So,please, don’t blame yourself because if you do, I have to take the blame for being on the dating app in the first place.”
“I agree with Ari, Jameson. There’s no telling the lengths Dixon could have gone to. You saved my daughter, and,” his voice trembled with raw emotion, “please, promise me no more dating apps, sweetheart.”
“I second that,” Jameson chimed in.
