Bruises meet me in the mirror, a red welt that’s darkening by the minute, my right eye almost swollen shut.
I don’t want to die.
I have to leave.
Chapter Nine
I don’t try to get anything, I leave the clothes and the jewelry; I don’t try to find the stash of cash I know Cal has. I just need to get out.
I pluck the keys for my truck off the hook and tiptoe toward the door, unlocking it and pause, listening for sounds throughout the house to suggest I may have woken him. When nothing happens, I open the door just wide enough to slip through the gap.
The gravel and grit bite into the bare soles of my feet as I cross toward the truck Cal bought for me last year. I know it has gas, not a lot, since he only ever allows me to have a quarter of a tank at a time,but it should get me at least fifty or sixty miles from here if I’m smart with it.
I never really understood why he bought me a truck when he never allowed me to drive it. He only allowed me to put in a small amount of gas, and I only ever went to the grocery store two miles away from home. Now I’m about to use it.
Glancing in the mirror, I make sure the house is still dark before I hold my breath and start the engine, pausing and waiting, hoping the noise doesn’t wake him. When everything remains quiet and dark, I gently release the brake and ease myself down the drive, tapping at the onboard screen to bring up the car’s GPS system. I type in the address for Silas’s ranch but wince when I see it’s exactly sixty-seven miles from here and my car’s computer predicts only sixty-one miles in the tank.
It’ll be a stretch, but I have to hope it’s enough. I’m slow as I navigate my way down the long drive and away from the cage that has trapped me for way too long. My breath is lodged in my throat the entire time, my eyes constantly flicking between the windscreen and the rearview mirror to make sure I’m not being followed. I haven’t even switched on the headlights yet, but thankfully the drive is lit. It’s dim, but enough to help me see my way out. When I reach the end of the drive, I pull out onto the road, following the GPS as it guides me through the small town I’ve called home for the past five years and then onto the open highway.
There is nothing in front of me and nothing behind me; the roads practically empty since it’s so late. For the first time in years, a weight shifts inside me, lifting, freeing. Tears burn my eyes with it, and I have to blink rapidly to clear my vision.
I watch the miles tick down as I draw closer to Sunstone Ridge, but with it, so does my fuel, the little bar dropping steadily.
I’m not going to make it.
My hands curl around the steering wheel, and I shake my head at myself. I should be proud of what I’ve just done.
I left.
I’ve always been too afraid to leave, but not now. I did it. I chose myself.
I will make it even if I have to walk the rest of the way.
Taking the exit the GPS instructs me to, I follow the winding road and for the first time since I left; I see a signpost for Sunstone Ridge. Ten miles from here. I’ve got this.
The miles disappear quickly, and before I know it, I’m cruising down a narrow street, shops and cute little cafes shut for the night on either side of the street. It looks like the only place still open is some kind of bar, the neon sign out front reading Sunstone Saloon.Cute.
I take a left at the end of Main Street; my surroundings immediately changing from buildings to rolling fields and towering pines, the darkness making it all appear a little ominous. Mountains stretch toward the sky, seeming so close I could touch them, their peaks grazing the stars that twinkle against an endless velvet night.
The engine of my truck stutters once, twice…
“No,” I whisper. “Come on.” I stare at the dial for my fuel, but there’s no way I’ll get another mile out of her.
The truck limps for another few yards before it completely dies, coming to a stop at the side of a thin dirt road. There’s at least enough space for a car to pass me should they need to.
Thankfully, the truck isn’t completely dead, and everything inside is still running off the battery, so I tap against the screen, following the blue line on my GPS to see how far away I am from Knight Falls Ranch.
According to this, there’s only another two and a half miles and the road is straight.
Glancing up, I stare out into the darkness, my heart beginning to thump steadily. Fear rises with it. I’ve never been fond of the dark—I can handle it for the most part, but knowing I’m going to be out there alone has my skin crawling. There are no lights around me, the town a distant blur behind me. I don’t want to wait until morning—what if Cal decides to come looking for me? If he’s smart, he’llknow this is where I have come, and if I’m alone, nothing is stopping him from dragging me away.
“I can do this.” I whisper to myself as I turn the key and cut the truck off, killing the lights. I’m plunged into such a deep, fathomless dark, for a moment I can’t even make out the shape of my hand.
Breathing deeply, I let the fear have its moment before I push it down. Not now. I cannot stop now. Slowly, my eyes adjust to the dark, shapes and outlines coming into view as I look around me. And then I reach for the handle and step out of the safety of my car.
It’s a warm Montana night; crickets chirp in the long grasses on either side of me, and the ground beneath my bare feet is only slightly colder than the air.
“Just go straight,” I whisper, hitting the button to lock the truck, and then I start to walk, following the dirt road without looking back. Grit and dirt bite into the soles of my feet, cutting, but still, I don’t stop.
