“Thank you, Mr. Ralph,” I say, to which I don’t receive a response. Just a cold, lingering silence that foreshadows what’s to follow.
I’m in for the toughest challenge of my life, I can tell. And if looks can deceive, it’s Mr. Henry Ralph who might turn out to be the ultimate deceiver.
***
There was a time when I thought he was the most beautiful man on the planet, but beauty cannot be measured just with good looks alone. Henry Ralph proved to be the vilest man of all, a kidnapper, a trickster, and I must escape him.
I must escape him while I still have the chance.
Ignoring the incessant pull in my chest, I finally pick up my resolve off the floor and spring into action, rushing around the room and grabbing a set of clothes, using a nightgown as a makeshift bag and tying it like a sack. He hasn’t returned from wherever he’d rushed off to, so I steal to the kitchen, find a snack bar in the cupboard, and shove it into my makeshift sack.
Truth be told, I have no idea where I am, except that I’m somewhere between mountains. My closest guess is the valleynear Hamilton, the Bitterroot Valley, unless Henry took me even further from the city, farther than the closest mountain range.
Shit!
If I thought this would be a quick escape, perhaps I was wrong. But I am still determined, and I clutch my sack under my arm before making my way to the back door.
It’s the first time the night air has touched my flesh in two days, and while it feels pleasant, I don’t have time to bask in its coolness. I have to make haste so that Henry doesn’t catch me escaping. I know that once I’m back home, I have unemployment to look forward to, as well as a marriage license that might cost me a fortune to get out of once I’ve found a legal channel for a divorce.
For now, all that matters is getting out of this place, away from my crazy boss, and back to my sister, who must be pulling her hair out with worry because she hasn’t heard from me.
I check my surroundings and make a calculated decision to enter the woods, the easiest place to disappear in, hidden by the old tree trunks and the secrets of the forest. As I place my foot onto the ground, my heart trembles as if it’s responding to the adrenaline pulsing through my veins.
I’m nervous and afraid, but still determined, and it’s my determination that propels me forward, through the faint whispers of tingling beneath my skin and past the sounds of the valley that call out to me. I hear my name in every whistle, every hoot, every breath I take, as if my surroundings urge me forward. I take that encouragement as if it’s from the lips of my sister, my careful jog soon turning into a sprint through the forest, trees becoming blurred in my vision.
All I can see is the freedom of returning, and I taste it on my tongue as I whisk past the ravine, following it like a compass.If my calculations are correct, and if I am in the Bitterroot Valley, the ravine forms part of the Bitterroot River, and it’ll lead me back to the city it passes through.
I stop behind a bush to catch my breath, suddenly becoming more aware of the adrenaline that fills my veins, thumps in my eardrums, and bursts through my heart like it’s trying to tell me something. Like it’s trying to warn me about something, the fine hairs on the back of my neck prickling at attention as I sense a presence coming forth.
I’m not sure how I know, but there’s an eerie silence that spreads through the forest, and it just feels…strange. Not wrong, but heavy, assertive, and something tells me to run.
So I do just that.
I run as fast as my feet can carry me, racing through the woods and becoming aware of something chasing me, hot on my heels. I turn back once, and nearly lose my footing when I glimpse the most horrifyingly magnificent creature I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
It’s a wolf, but it’s much larger than any I’ve seen in the pictures depicting the wolves of the forest. This one, with its silky chestnut brown fur, appears three times my size, consuming my shadow behind me, its steps vibrating the ground as I run from it. My heart hammers in my chest, and I feel as if I’m not going to make it out alive.
Not with some ghastly creature chasing me like I’m its next meal. I thought I was escaping Henry, but I just ended up running into the throes of my impending death—
“Gah!” I cry out when my foot hits a loose rock on the ground, and I lose my momentum, falling forward onto my knees and scraping the surface of my flesh. My knees burn, andmy heart lodges in my throat when I hear the wolf slow down behind me.
Its steps crunch the ground as it comes toward me, every step thundering in my heart and turning my body frightfully frozen until it comes into view. A majestic beast, with fur billowing out toward the left, following the direction of the passing wind. It appears gentle, its beady eyes softening—if that’s even possible. The scent of power hits my airways, and along with it comes the realization that this is it. This is the moment I’m about to die.
“No…no…” I whimper, closing my eyes only to see my life flash behind my eyelids, every memory coming to the surface—even the ones I thought I’d buried.
The wolf towers over me now. I can feel its presence surrounding me, consuming, enveloping me in its authority, and claiming that I am its next meal. Then, it touches me, a paw pressed on my shoulder, startling me with how gentle it is, and I open my eyes, fear-stricken and unable to scream in the face of this grave danger.
I fall onto my back, hypnotized when I meet the wolf’s eyes, which match the color of the trees and bushes surrounding us—a familiar green that reminds me of the hatred burning in my chest. It becomes a feeble spark now, a dying ember of what fueled me to run through these parts of the woods in the first place. The reason for my inevitable demise now, and I close my eyes, body stiff against the ground and beneath the paw that covers half my chest from where it’s pressed against my shoulder.
Bracing for the impact, I hold my breath, waiting for what is sure to come, and wondering how much pain there will be before I don’t feel anything at all. My body is frozen with thethought, but then I hear the wisp of a gentle breeze, and the tightness of the paw on my shoulder loosens until it feels as if there’s a human hand pinning me down.
“Annika…”
I hear my name, from a voice that I’d wished I would never hear again. And it prompts me to open my eyes, only to find the glowing greenish-blue depths of the man I hate.
“Henry…?” I whisper, too shocked that he’s inches away, the scent of his cologne wafting into my nostrils and bringing with it a sense of relief.
Did I just die?
