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“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. I don’t want you.”
“You want him,” he growls. “Prison’s trash.”
The car comes to a stop, and he unlocks the door, getting out. As soon as he does, I reach for my bag, knocking his phone into it. I open my door and start sprinting. It's muddy because it rained last night, and because I’m in heels my feet keep slipping.
I hear him laugh behind me.
“I like to play catch and fuck. Is this what this is, Rylee? A new game? This is why I love you. You are always coming up with new things.”
I gasp as I try to catch my breath and keep going. I reach for his phone in my bag and try to remember August’s number without Anderson seeing what I’m doing. He answers, and just as he does, I’m tackled from behind and fall head-first into the mud. It covers my face and knocks the wind out of me as well. His laugh is the first thing I hear when I can’t hear anything other than my own breathing and a ringing in my ears.
“How do you want it?” he asks, tearing at my shirt.
“Get the hell off me,” I scream.
He leans down and comes close to my ear. “I’ll get off on you, then in you, then maybe I’ll christen your ass as well.”
I scream but it’s useless.
We’re out in the middle of nowhere, and unless it’s nighttime and the teenagers want to get lucky, no one comes out here during the day.
“Fuck you,” I say. Reaching between us, I hit him as hard as I can on his cock. He yelps and falls to the side. I keep the phone in hand and run again. This time I don’t hear his footsteps behind me, but that doesn’t slow my pace at all, even though I’m wearing one heel and stockings. My skirt is bunched up, and the farther I run, the more adrenaline hits me. I hear a faint noise and raise the phone to my ear.
“Rylee, fuck! Tell me you’re alive.” I hear August’s voice.
I slow down, spin, and check around to see no sign of Anderson.
“Rylee,” he screams into the phone.
“Rylee, tell me where you are.” My sister’s calm voice breaks through my daze.
“The hill,” I manage to get out.
“I know where that is. Call the police,” Rhianna says.
I don’t stop moving.
I can’t stop moving.
I know if he looks hard enough, Anderson will find me again, and when he does he’ll be so damn angry.
“Rylee!” The asshole screams my name, and it echoes through the woods. “I’m coming for what’s mine.” Oh my God, he sounds crazed, like some sort of lunatic that has escaped from an asylum and is coming for me like in the movies.
I wipe at my face and don’t stop.
I won’t stop.
I can’t stop.
Chapter 22
August
“I know where she is,” Rhianna says, grabbing her keys and running out the door. I’m right behind her, with Noah on my heels. As soon as we’re in the car and moving, Noah starts making calls. The first call is straight to Glenn, telling him where we’re going. When he finally hangs up, he turns back to me.
“If you see Anderson, you stay away. Do. You. Understand?”
I don’t answer.
How can I answer that?
If he’s hurt her, I’ll kill him. And I’ll have no remorse for doing so.
How can you hurt someone as nice as Rylee?
“August… Do. You. Hear. Me? If you touch him, you will go straight back to prison.”
Still, I don’t answer.
I see the hill, and when we arrive, a police car drives up behind us.
Glenn gets out as we rush over to Anderson’s vehicle.
“He went in there. Look…” Rhianna points to the footprints that lead into the forest. I start running, following them. I hear their footsteps behind me, but I don’t stop. Nothing could stop me.
“Rylee…” I hear him say her name.
He’s taunting her.
Tormenting her.
My feet don’t slow as I come up behind him. When he turns around, shock is written on his face as I bend over and slam him into the ground with as much force as I can. Hands grab at me as I get up.
“Leave him! Go and find Rylee,” Glenn says, looking down at Anderson on the ground. Glenn hovers over him scanning around.
Rhianna starts yelling her name.
“Where is she?” she says in desperation.
We all split up, and as I go farther in, I find one of her heels on the ground.
“Rylee.” I don’t yell it. There isn’t anyone else in these woods but us. And it's dead quiet. It’s as if the birds know they need to be silent right now.
“August.”
I turn to find her hunched under a tree, her blouse is torn, and her face is covered in mud. I reach for her, pulling her up. She stands on shaky legs and drops her head to my chest.
