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“You okay, mister?”
There’s a wobble in my neck as I force myself to look at the kid walking up to me. That’s when I see Arrow standing in the middle of the tarmac, ears flat, the grill of a Ford truck inches from her snout. She turns to look at me, and limps over when she sees I’m conscious again. She laps at my face until I push her away, and then sits on her butt and stares at me with her big brown eyes.
“I almost drove over your dog, man,” the kid says, voice shaking. “It wouldn’t get out the fucking way.” He crouches beside me. “What happened?” His eyes rake over me growing wider by the second. “Were you in an accident or something?”
I can’t imagine what I look like, sprawled on the icy ground like this, dirty and torn up after my truck rolled. “I need your car,” I manage, mildly shocked at how difficult it is to wrangle the words from my tongue.
“Yeah, mister, of course.” The kid stands, runs his hands through his hair. “Let’s get you to a hospital.”
“No,” I croak as I push myself to my knees. Grabbing the nearby signpost, I use it to steady myself as I slowly rise to my feet. “I’m fine.”
The kid blinks at me like I’m speaking a foreign language. “But—”
“I’mfine.” The words grate out of a hoarse throat, and the kid scrambles back when I push away from the pole.
“O-Okay,” he stammers.
“But I do need a ride.”
From the way his face pales, the last thing this kid wants is me riding shotgun. I try to school my face into something approaching a normal expression, but my heart is pounding too fast, my stomach clenching so hard I’m sure I’ll start puking again.
“Uh…where to?”
I give him a smile that feels more like a snarl. Where the fuckisRed? I glance left, then right, trying to get a feel for which way Red would have gone. Back to town, or deeper into the wilderness? If I make the wrong choice, I’ll be heading further away from my girl.
Arrow barks, and starts limping away. I track her until she turns and barks at me again, her tail swishing slowly. She does the same thing when she’s trying to lead me to the kitchen to her leash, begging for a walk.
Is she leading me after Red? Is it possible she knows which direction he was headed?
I stare into her brown eyes, and she regards me with her parted mouth, tongue sliding over her bottom canines as she pants, as she waits.
“West,” I tell the kid.
We both turn to regard his truck, which was obviously headed in that direction already. His hand trembles as he reaches up to rake his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I-I guess. That thing doesn’t bite, does it?”
“Don’t worry, you’re not her type.”
4
CHARLOTTE
Iwake with a jolt, bright light spearing into my eyes. I don’t remember falling asleep. I don’t remember ripping strips of tule from my outfit. Stripping the pink bed, twisting the sheets into a thin rope. Was I planning on strangling myself?
My therapists called this disassociating. They were eager as anything to find the memories I’d buried so deep, to hear me recall the awful things I’d suffered through. The only one who was successful was Fyre.
The thought of him sends a wave of energy through me. Not strength, but anger.
He did this to me. Maybe not intentionally, but fucked if I care about semantics right now. This is all on him.
If we hadn’t been in that cabin…
If he hadn’t kidnapped me…
If I hadn’t met him…
I fight back a sob, knowing how useless any form of weakness is in this place. This…
Toy box.
