Hightailing it out of there, Devon broke through the trees onto the narrow trail. It wasn’t a long walk from there, but she increased her pace anyway. She had a terrible feeling about all of this. Why hadn’t she just stayed home? Why couldn’t she listen to anything anyone told her?
She definitely heard footsteps behind her. They weren’t exactly close, but they didn’t have to be to freak her out. She was alone after all, and all things considered, she was a small person. There was no way she could fend off someone purposefully chasing her. Her only hope would be for her to make it out of the tree line.
Fear pushed at her pores, and she felt panic hitting her like a ton of bricks. What kind of person would chase after her in the middle of the woods? Would she be one of those news stories—pieces of a dead body from a young woman found buried in the woods near her house? Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed it down. She was only freaking herself out more.
Taking off at a sprint, Devon pushed forward as fast as she could go. She had never been a runner, and the last beer she’d had was sloshing around in her stomach, slowing her down. Why had she done that? If she hadn’t, would she be faster? She couldn’t think about it.
Her boots slowed her down even more. They weren’t meant for running distances. They were meant for horseback riding, and more importantly, they looked good.
Her feet pounded the dirt as she tried to hold her pace. The end of the trail was approaching, but she could feel her pursuer gaining on her. On a straight stretch in the trail, she looked over her shoulder, and her long hair flew out in every direction around her face. She could definitely see a figure, but with a quick look, she couldn’t tell who it was or if she even recognized the person.
Hadn’t her mother told her that 95 percent of reported cases were people that the victim knew firsthand?
Finally reaching the road, she looked both ways before crossing. She ran straight across the lawn between the double oak trees and up the creaking wooden stairs. She yanked open the screen door and banged on the front door. Devon heard a familiar answering call, and she pushed into the house without another thought.
It was a small run-down one bedroom shack that hadn’t been inhabited for as long as Devon had known about it. She had been sneaking away here to have sex with her boyfriend for nearly as long. He should already be here. He would protect her. Would the person following her try to get into the house? It wasn’t secure by any means. Her pursuer wouldn’t have a hard time breaking in.
Devon slammed the door shut and slid the lock into place, hoping that it would help.
“Mason!” she called out frantically.
No answer.
“Mason!” she yelled again, rushing to the closed bedroom door.
He had knocked back when she came to the door. It was their signal. She hadn’t made up the fact that he had knocked back. Where the hell was he?
Devon pushed open the bedroom door and found the room transformed. It was stark white everywhere from the walls to the four-poster bed to the carpet and curtains. The room was unbelievably bright, like she had entered another world.
She looked around, taking a few hesitant steps into the room. When she heard the door close behind her, she jumped and glanced over her shoulder. Her exit had been sealed off, and as far as she could tell, there wasn’t another exit.
“Mason?” she whispered, the words lodging in her throat. Her heart hammered in her chest as tears welled in her eyes.
How do I get out of this? she thought.
She felt eyes on her again, and she turned around to meet her pursuer. Before she had a chance to scream, the person grabbed her arm, wrenched it painfully behind her back, and planted her face-first into the mattress.
DEVON AWOKE WITH a scream erupting out of her throat, the one she hadn’t been able to let loose in her dream. She sat straight-up on the couch, her breathing heavy and her skin clammy. Pushing her hands up into her hair, she let the tears fall freely. She cried there helplessly until she had no more tears left, until her eyes were red and puffy, and until her throat was sore.
She moved the covers off her body and pushed herself off the couch, standing up on shaky legs. The door to Brennan’s bedroom remained closed. She wondered if he had heard her screams or if he had slept through them. Either way, he hadn’t opened the door, making his position very clear.
Stumbling forward into the kitchen, she poured herself a glass of water and downed it. Her clothes were wrinkled, and she didn’t even want to think about how rumpled her hair was. Knocking on the bathroom door, she waited for an answer, and when she didn’t hear one, she entered.
Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror over the sink, and she tried not to cringe away. She looked like a wreck—pale and gaunt with dark circles under her eyes. At least Brennan hadn’t seen her like this. It wouldn’t have mattered after what had happened last night, but still, it was better this way.
She scrubbed her face and tied her hair back into a ponytail, trying to make herself look presentable. It wasn’t much use, not after crying so hard. She was an ugly crier; she always had been. Now that the blood was rushing back to her face, she was all red and splotchy. At least it would go away eventually.
Bending forward at the waist, she cradled her body against herself and begged and pleaded to whoever would listen for the nightmares to stop. This was the first time she had dreamed of home. It had felt so nice to be back in the Tennessee woods, and then the same thing had happened all over again. How many more times could she be chased? How many more times could she get caught? How many more times before she didn’t wake up in time?
Her heart ached for home, and she pulled out her phone. She really wanted to call her mom, but in her condition, her mom would know how messed up she was. Instead, she tried calling Dustin’s phone. He had just finished his third year of pharmacy school at the University of Michigan, and he was sticking around Ann Arbor to be close to his girlfriend, Kelly. They were in the same program and had only been dating for one semester.
“Hey, Dev,” Dustin said, answering the phone.
“Hey,” she said. “How have you been?”
“Better than you, it sounds,” he said, knowing as quickly as her mom would that something was wrong.
“Well, I’ve been better,” she admitted honestly.
She had a hard time lying to Dustin. Growing up, he had been her rock. They’d had their differences, but he was her big brother, and he had always been there for her.