“There!” Someone shouts it from somewhere in the distance.
A flashlight beam cuts through the trees behind me. A dog barks, and I already know. They’re going to set that motherfucker loose on me.
I bolt. I don’t think anymore. I just fuckingrun.
The woods blur as I tear through them, lungs burning and legs screaming for me to stop. But I ignore it, my mind swirling with the one dreaded conclusion.
This is it. This is how it ends.
I surrender, or I fucking die.
The barking is closer now, deeper and sharp. The sound crawls under my skin, dragging memories with it. Those stupid concrete corridors, the steel doors slamming shut, and the way hope rots when you realize the world has decided what you are.
I don’t wanna go back. Please don’t make me go back.
I veer left, then right, zigzagging instinctively, breaking patterns. I splash through a shallow creek, doubling back on myself before climbing out on the opposite bank, dragging my feet through mud to confuse the scent.
My heart slams violently in my chest.
Rue.
The thought hits me out of nowhere, and I hate myself for it. I hate it’s the love for her that seeps in.
She shouldn’t be anywhere near this. She should be home—wherever the fuck that is for her. She should be warm, safe, and living in her little delusion, pretending I never crawled out of the grave she put me in.
Damnit.I push harder, jaw clenched.
In another life, I would’ve loved her like some fairy tale I imagined back when I was thirteen. In another life, I would’ve stayed next door, grown up slow and right, married her young, and kissed her in the kitchen while dinner burned on the stove.
In another life, I wouldn’t be running through the woods like an animal with men and dogs on my heels.
That life was never meant for someone like me, and it turns out, taking the fall for someone else’s evil, whether you loved them or not, really isn’t what it’s cut out to be.
I’m not a hero. I’ll always be the scapegoat.
I break through a thinner patch of trees and skid to a stop, chest heaving. I suck in a gasp of air, the scent of the muddy waters filling my lungs. My eyes scan the dark shoreline.
The docks.
I can see them through the branches now, long fingers of wood reaching out over the water. There are no boats bobbing out there. But still…
I shouldn’t go that way. There’s nothing but water.
And yet… my feet turn anyway.
The woods are closing in behind me. The barking is louder. The whoop of the helicopter overhead joins the noise. They’re driving me out, and they know it.
Nowhere left to go but the same icy fucking water that swallowed Matthew.
How fucking poetic.
I move along the tree line, keeping parallel to the dock, trying to stay hidden, but the terrain funnels me. The ground slopes downward, loose gravel shifting under my boots. My calf cramps sharply and I hiss through my teeth, stumbling and then catching myself on a tree trunk.
I squeeze my eyes shut for half a second.
Rue deserves better. She always did. This sets her free. She gave me what I thought I wanted. She saw me, offered her rescue, but it’s not the right thing. It was out of guilt. Just guilt.
The thought hurts worse than I thought it would.
