Page 182 of The Pact

Gripping the coffee table and the couch, I pull myself up shakily. My body is weak. It takes me a minute to get to a full stand. When I do, I creep to the door and peek around the frame. No car.

He’s gone.

Sobs wrack my body and I hold myself up against the door. I’m relieved that I’m alive. I’m terrified that Cole is out there somewhere. Will he go after Damian, Sutton, and Wes? I want to sit here and cry until I can’t anymore. However, I’m not out of the woods yet—literally.

Walking down the steps of the porch, I see a trail of blood that leads to tire marks in the dirt. He definitely left, but how far did he get? I can’t help but feel like he could be down the only road out of here, waiting for me, making me believe I escaped. Only to take me again.

Looking around, I see no other option. This road will lead me to civilization, or close to it, but will it lead me to danger as well?

My phone.

I don’t want to go back inside. I don’t want to see the gruesome mess I caused. However, my phone is my lifeline. It’s my only way to call for help.

Pushing past the fear, I go back, grabbing my things. I search for Gavin’s phone too, but it’s gone. I turn mine on and head down the dirt road. It could be a mile, it could be five. Anxiously, I wait for my phone to power up, keeping my eyes and ears open.

Every sound makes me jump.

My phone screen lights up and I immediately dial the emergency number. The call drops before anyone can answer. “Fuck,” I mutter. No bars. The cabin had service—a call came in last night. I could go back or I could continue walking down this road. I should go back, that’s the sensible thing to do, but I can’t make myself.

If I get to the road, I can flag someone down and get to safety. I can do this. I can do this. I repeat it to myself, feeling a little stronger each time.

Thankfully, the road is relatively straight and I can see pretty far into the distance. No car. No Cole.

How he could walk, let alone drive, after I stabbed him in the neck twice is mind-boggling. Wesley said throat. Maybe he meant to incapacitate, not to kill.

I glance up from the dust I’m kicking up and see something in the distance. A car. Then another. And another. A highway. My heart leaps and my legs find some strength as I jog towards my salvation.

My body wants to give up too many times. I stumble over rocks and roll my ankle at least twice, but I push forward. I’m breaking through the treeline as a car speeds by. Falling to my knees, my tears spring free at this small win.

I’m crying into my hands when I hear sirens in the distance. I look up through blurred vision. It can’t be this easy. Another victory so soon.

I need to flag them down. The thought consumes my head.

The red and blue lights blink at me like small beacons of hope in the distance. I jump up and down, waving my hands to signal to them to slow down. My ankle aching each time, although I don’t care. And they do. I want to laugh, even though I’m crying—my emotions are all tangled together. I feel like a madwoman.

One car skids to a stop near me in the middle of the highway. Another stops a few hundred yards ahead, with a third stopping a ways behind. Everything happens so fast. Two officers put out traffic cones to block cars from passing.

A woman in uniform steps out of the car parked in the middle. She calls out to me, “Thea Griffin?”

“Yes, yes. That’s me,” I answer tearfully.

She opens the back door of her cruiser and I’m not prepared for what I see.

“Thea!” My name tears through the air as Damian runs toward me.

I’m in his arms seconds later. He’s pressing me to his chest as I cry into his neck and hold on to him like my life depends on it. I focus on all of my senses to ground me, to tell me that this is real.

His sea breeze and citrus scent fights against the metallic smell of blood I’m covered in. I let my fingers pull in the warmth of his skin. I swear I hear his heart pounding in his chest, making mine ache. Pulling back, I see his icy blue eyes are framed by redness…he’s been crying. My mouth finds his. I need to taste him to know that this isn’t some kind of delusion. I’m here, Damian. I’m here.

“You found me,” I choke out. He promised he’d always find me, but I had my doubts today.

He pulls me away from him, taking my face in his hands. “I told you I would. Even in death, princess. I’ll always find you.” His eyes travel over my body. “Are you hurt? Jesus, is this your blood?”

I shake my head. “No. I-I think I’m alright.” His eyes sweep over me and stop at my throat.

“Fuck, your neck is purple.” My hand instinctively touches the spot where Cole choked me.

Then I’m being jerked away from Damian. Wesley crushes me against him. The smell of pine and leather comforts me.

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