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Silence fills the vehicle, the pressure growing in my lower stomach, as minutes pass by. I think they're back to ignoring me when the sound of crunching gravel fills my ears.
"Gavin," Veronica hisses, slamming her hand onto the dashboard, "what in the seven circles of hell are you doing?"
The driver shakes his head. "I'm not going to let her piss herself, Ronnie. It's not right."
Veronica reaches out, grabbing Gavin’s arm. "The boss says—"
“She’s not a dog, Ronnie!” The driver shakes off her grip, glaring at the Autumn Fae.
My eyes widen as I watch the two of them. Everything out of their mouths is important information, and I have learned more in the past two minutes than I had in months.
Someone else is in charge here.
If I ever got out of this situation, I would definitely utilize that rather vital piece of information.
"He isn't here right now." Gavin turns off the ignition and hops out of the van. The vehicle shakes when he slams his door.
Seconds later, a gust of freezing icy wind enters the vehicle as the side door slides open. The human looks at me, his brows furrowed as he beckons me forward. “Come on, young lady.”
I stare at him for a split second before making up my mind. I am no young lady, but if this man is willing to help me, I would go with him.
My legs stumble as I hop out of the vehicle, but I straighten within moments. Snow-covered pine trees are everywhere, and the road stretches deep into the forest. The sky is clear blue, but there is snow on the horizon.
I can smell it. As I breathe in deeply, cold, fresh air enters my lungs. It fills a part of myself that I hadn’t even known was empty. With every second that passes, I feel more like myself. My brain is clearer. I can think properly for the first time in months.
“Come on,” Gavin says gruffly. “Over here.”
His shoulders are hunched as he stomps through the snow, and I follow him into the woods. Rubbing my arms together as best I can with the irons on my hands to ward off the chill, I start to form a rudimentary plan.
Maybe, just maybe, if I can play this right, I can get away from these people.
Gavin leads me into the forest, and I duck beneath an evergreen tree. Snow crunches, and I peek around the trunk. His back is turned for privacy, and he’s standing about a hundred feet away from me.
After caring for my personal needs behind a tree—much better than the alternative—I bend and gather snow in my hands. I wash myself as best I can and run some of the cool substance over my face and neck.
It’s freezing, and my heart stutters as the snow lands on my skin, but I’m cleaner than I have been in months. While I wash up, I run through my plan.
“Hurry up!” Veronica’s ire is evident as she yells from the van. “We need to go!”
My time is up. Wiping my hands on my leggings, I shift around the tree.
“Coming!”
My eyes flit around the woods, searching for exactly the right tree. Some are too big, others too small. But finally, I spot the perfect one a dozen feet away. Trying to infuse my steps with nonchalance, I walk toward a large rotting log covered in sharp, jagged edges of wood. Against every instinct that tells me to be careful, I keep my arms against my side. My foot connects with the log, and I don’t fight the fall as my legs connect with the fallen wood.
My mouth falls open, and the breath is knocked out of me as dozens of tiny lacerations slash across my skin. The acrid scent of blood fills the air, and a squeal that is not at all exaggerated escapes me. Step one: complete.
Staggering upwards, I pull myself up against a tree as Gavin turns around.
“Oh!” His eyes widen, and he frowns as he looks at my face. “Are you okay?”
This is it. This might be my one chance.
Sniffling, I think about all the terrible things my mother has ever said to me. A tear trickles down my cheek as I remember her calling me a “worthless Fae” for daring to stand up for one of the poor Pixies she was torturing for fun. Another one slips out as memories I had long suppressed surface.
Once the floodgates open, the tears I had shoved down for months escape me. I do nothing to stop them, pouting my lips as a shuddering breath escapes me. I don’t have to fake the trembles wracking through me as I twist my hands together.
“Not really,” I whisper, holding my hands toward him. “It’s just that I’ve had these cuffs on for so long, and my wrists are chafing so badly.” I whimper, “It hurts.”
