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I haven’t allowed myself to let my guard down withanyguy since Chris. Not after how badly I got burned with him.
I turn the key and the engine starts up, and I keep the window rolled up even though Finn is still shouting things at me. I even turn my radio on loud, to make a point. It’s playing Britney Spears, and it feels completely jarring in this kind of setting, but I try to act like it’s what I want, like I want Britney to be singing to me about how her loneliness is killing her, and she wants me to hit her baby one more time.
I’m acting childish, but I don’t care. I don’t care what Finn thinks of me. Hopefully, I’ll never see that a-hole again. I don’t dare look back at him as I drive off. Don’t want to confuse myself by looking at all that ink and brawn. Don’t want to confuse myself by thinking thatthatis my husband.
The forest is already starting to get dark. I didn’t realize how late is was already, and I really want to get out of this place before it’s pitch black.
I hope I won't be unlucky enough to get a puncture two days running. I’m sure I won’t. I'll be fine. And I'm pretty sure there's a motel about two hours away. I'll stop there if I have to. I have enough money to last me a few days, at least. Now, I just have to get out of this damn forest.
I put my foot down on the accelerator and try to hold back the tears. I’m determined not to cry. I mustn’t allow myself to feel sorry for myself, to feel like my life just keeps going from bad to worse. I’ve got to break this cycle, and take some control.
You’re better than this, Addison.
That’s something my dad used to say to me when I used to get upset for no good reason, when I’d throw tantrums and act stupid because something didn’t go my way.
Well, now it’s time to prove to everyone just how muchbetterI am. Starting with sorting out this evil fake marriage, and getting myself a job in Denver. Then, when I’ve saved up enough money for a flight, I’m going right back to New York. I’ll move in with Sadie, and find myself some kind of high-flying fashion industry job. Even if I have to begin just by ironing shirts or whatever — I’ll work my way up.
And I’ll never speak to Violet again.
It’s starting to rain now. That’s the reason it’s getting so dark all of a sudden. The sky is charcoal, and thick clouds hang right over my head. I fumble around, looking for the lever to activate the windshield wipers. I really don’t know my way around this car too well, and the lever that I thought would work the wipers only works the blinkers.
That’s when I see headlights coming toward me.
That's weird. It's so isolated around here. Who on earth would be heading in this direction? This is a partially-hidden dirt track that only really goes in one direction anyway: toward Finn’s cabin.
First someone breaks in to leave a butchered bobcat on the floorboards, and now someone else is taking a ride out there… for what?
I have half a mind to turn back, to warn Finn in case it’s something bad. As much as I hate him right now, the thought of something happening, of him getting hurt — or worse — fills me with dread.
I don’t have time to think about this much more, though, because the car is coming faster and faster toward me and I have to slam on the brakes.
It slams onitsbrakes too, thank goodness, but the headlights remain on, shining into my eyes so bright I have to shield my face with my palm.
It’s so blinding that I can't see for a moment, then my eyes acclimate a little and I see a guy sitting behind the wheel. He’s got a bald head and is wearing wiry silver spectacles. His eyes are dark and cold, and fixed firmly upon me.
Slowly, he lifts something up toward his face. It’s a camera.
He presses down his finger and takes a photograph.
Shit. I have no idea what’s going on, but I’m petrified.
I put the car into reverse and try to go back the way I’ve come. The track is narrow, and it’s a good mile or so back to the cabin, but I’m too scared to think straight.
After a few seconds, though, I see headlights coming toward the back of my car.
Oh god. Is that Finn? Is he coming to save me, or coming to attack me? Is he working in league with the guy with the camera? Is this some kind of pincer maneuver, flanking me on both sides?
I don’t know what to do, and I have almost no time to decide. I take off my seatbelt and open the car door, and I bolt out of my seat and into the darkness of the forest. To heck with it. I'll take my chances with wild animals. They're less dangerous than the predators after me now. There's no deadlier predator than a human male.
The terrain is rough and wet, and the rain is lashing down on me. Mud slaps at my legs. I’m so terrified, I just keep on going, over goodness knows what. It’s a good job I’m wearing jeans and long sleeves, or my arms and legs would be completely shredded, but even denim isn’t strong enough to stop all the thorns from getting through.
‘Ow!’ I cry out, as I trip over something hard and sharp. I fall forward onto my hands and knees, and the pain rips through me. I’ve cut my right hand, I’m sure of that. My ankle is red hot with pain too, twisted or maybe even broken. My knees are stinging.
I glance up and see the front set of headlights, belonging to Mr. Happy-Snapper, heading off, out of the forest.
Then I hear a twig snap behind me.
‘Addison?’ calls Finn. He’s shining a flashlight, seeking me out, and before long, the beam stops dead on me. It’s not like I can get up in this state, not when I’m this hurt, so I just sit there, trembling, trying to build up my strength. I’ll have to just try and claw his eyes out or bite his ear off if it comes to it.
