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Taylor wasn't sure if that was a good thing or bad.
Knowing her luck, anyone who stopped to help her would be some creep driving around on a winter’s night looking for a vulnerable woman to prey upon.
Winter.
It was winter, or close enough to it. There was a light dusting of snow over everything and the sidewalk under her feet was cold enough that it felt like stepping on a million tiny shards of glass. It would have hurt if she had time to worry about such things.
As she continued to slow, she noticed that yards were decorated with fairy lights and elaborate Christmas displays. Some of the houses she passed had Christmas trees in their windows.
Christmastime.
It seemed so surreal. For her, the world had stopped the day she’d been taken, but for everyone else, it had moved as usual. While she’d been held prisoner, people had been going about their lives.
Her cheeks began to sting, and she knew it was because she was crying.
Life was so unfair.
Why had he chosen her?
There was nothing special about her. She was just a normal woman. At twenty years old, she worked as a hairdresser, wentto college, and hung out with her friends. She had dinner with her parents and younger brother every other week, went shopping, owned way too many pairs of shoes, and had an addiction to donuts that required daily trips to the gym to work off the extra calories. There was nothing about her that should have put her in the sights of that horrible man.
He could have chosen any one of the thousands of young women her age. Instead, he had taken her.
She again slowed; her legs were shaking so badly she was surprised she was still standing.
She was fueled by pure adrenaline, but that could only last so long.
Then she would likely collapse in the middle of the street.
If she did, she would be completely vulnerable. Anyone could stumble upon her and do whatever they wanted to her. She would be at their mercy.
She needed a plan.
She needed to make up her mind what she was going to do.
Anything was better than the prospect of passing out on the sidewalk.
Maybe she should flag down the next car that passed.
Maybe she should approach the nearest house.
Maybe she should start looking for a safe place to go for help.
She did none of those things.
She just kept moving.
Somehow, she continued to propel herself forward.
Her vision was beginning to blur. Each breath she took was a harsh pant, her bad leg wobbled, and her stomach was churning now with a mixture of anxiety and overexertion.
The sound of a car approaching had her head snapping up.
Headlights were bearing down on her.
Taking the biggest leap of faith in her life, she stumbled out onto the road. Waving her arms above her head, she prayedthe person in the car wouldn’t hurt her. After what she’d been through, her faith in humanity had taken a severe beating. She was no longer that sweet, innocent girl who always saw the best in people—now she expected the worst.
The car approached. Once the driver noticed her, the vehicle swerved wildly, almost crashing into an illuminated Santa in a sleigh that decorated the closest front yard.
