Then I remember. I reach behind me into my back pocket and pull out my phone. My hands shake uncontrollably as I unlock it and flinch in terror as the screen lights up the darkness around me. Moving quickly, I pull up my text history and slam my thumb down on a name—any name. I have barely any signal, but I can’t worry about that right now. I furiously type out a text as fast as I can and press send before shoving my phone back in my pocket.
Except, when I look down, I freeze in horror. My fluorescent yellow shorts might as well be a flashing road cone around my waist. I listen for another moment and then crouch slightly, pushing them down my legs. Then I yank them off my sneakers and drop them next to the tree. Thank God I decided to wear bikini underwear tonight instead of a fucking G-string…
Why are you worried about your underwear? Would you rather die than someone see your naked ass?
When I look up, I nearly have a heart attack.
Standing no more than 20 feet away is a giant buck. I freeze, my eyes bugging out of my head as he stares back at me, probably wondering what the hell I’m doing on his turf. He’s huge, with a thick ash brown body and massive antlers like nothing I’ve ever seen. On any other day, I’d be so mesmerized I’d probably start crying at the sheer beauty of it. But, tonight, he just looks like something else that wants to kill me.
After what seems like forever, his ears twitch and he gives a sharp turn when he hears something in the distance that I can’t. I startle as he whips around and tears off through the trees, tossing leaves and branches in his wake.
I have to run, too. I have to move, or else he’ll find me and catch me. And God knows what he has planned for me then. I run in the opposite direction of the buck, thinking that if he heard the racket the buck made fleeing, maybe he’ll think it’s me and follow it.
It’s possible, isn’t it?
I take off again through the trees, in my underwear, sneakers, and tank top. The terrain isn’t as uneven here, so maybe I can move quicker. I just try to focus on the ground so I don’t trip and break my ankle.
Is this what it’s come to—running through the woods in the middle of the night trying to escape someone that I love—that I thought would protect me in situations like this? After everything, I never thought we’d end up like this.
But it’s not like I wasn’t warned.
I should’ve listened and never come here. Why didn’t I listen when he warned me?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Brett
One Year Ago
“Did she tell you he has a tattoo of a three-headed dog right above his dick?”
I nearly choke on my gin and tonic. They might as well be twins, or sisters at the very least. They have the same long, straight, shiny mahogany hair and the same blue-grey eyes with full, rosy lips, usually spouting something brash or crude.
Barrett’s cousin, Anna, is in town from Kentucky for the weekend and Thursday dinner was strategically moved to Friday drinks at the Rickhouse, a much swankier bourbon bar on the river, just for the occasion. It’s amazing we even found a table because this is one of the most popular places in the city. I should be excited and ready to let loose, but I’m still freaked the fuck out from finding a random smoothie in my car the other day.
Except it’s not that random. You know who broke into your car and left it there.
But, for some reason, I don’t have the guts to confront Colson about it. It’s almost as if I didn’t see him do it, I can’t prove anything. Plus, he said they were gross. Why would he bring me a homemade smoothie for lunch and leave me the other kind?
You are seriously debating that kind of detail when Colson is literally the only one on the planet who knows the significance of that exact brand and flavor of smoothie?
Anna flashes her eyes, drawing my attention back to her as she peers over the table at me with her icy cat eyes, “Can I see? Do you have pictures?” She crosses one knee over the other, bouncing her black strappy heel expectantly.
“That’s what I said!” Barrett cackles as she smacks the tabletop, the light glinting off the gold sparkles on her black lace top.
I knew what this was. A weekend with the two of them is like a hurricane making landfall. They’re two sharks looking for chum in the water, and they always find it. Dim lighting and a backlit bar don’t hurt, either.
I shake my head, finally able to swallow my drink.
Anna arches her brow and tosses her hair over her shoulder, “Nothing? Seriously?”
“Nothing for you,” I laugh, settling back in my chair.
“That’s hateful,” Anna looks down her nose at me, “spiteful, even.”
I waggle my shoulders, taunting her before I reach down to adjust the bow tie at the waist of my jeans.
“You know,” Anna tilts her head and purses her lips, “I never would’ve expected this from you.”
It’s college all over again.
“Brett’s selfish now,” Barrett says with a wave of her hand, “she’s come upon a beautiful man with great wealth and she refuses to share any of it.”
I stifle a laugh. Barrett talks about Bowen like he’s stepped off the pages of some mafia love story or a secret billionaire romance.
“Share what?” I slide the strap of my black tank top further up on my shoulder, “And what money? He works a nine to five, just like I do. More, actually.”
“Except he bought you a brand-new car,” Barrett quips with a twinkle in her eye.
“But is he a good guy?” Anna scrunches up her face, looking back and forth between me and Barrett, “Is he a mature partner you can see yourself with long-term? Has he done the work to achieve personal growth and move beyond his baggage?”
Anna’s been hanging around Barrett too long.
“Speaking of baggage,” Barrett turns to Anna, “are you still dating that one guy?”
Anna touches her glass to her lips, “Jesse,” she mutters into her bourbon, “more like friends with benefits. I don’t know, I suddenly heard from him last week after a month of radio silence.”
Barrett bows her head, shooting Anna a look, “Girl, that’s not friends with benefits, that’s a trauma bond.”
