Page 26 of Since Day One

I was simply that foolish girl who fell for his charms in a desperate need to please my family. I ignored all the red flags because it’s what everyone else wanted. Suddenly, that popcorn spackle of the beige wall flashed back into my mind.

No. I refused to let that control me.

I needed something to make me feel again. Or to take me away from all of this pain. I needed some rush of adrenaline and the ability to scream. I couldn’t face my family, couldn’t deal with whatever they had to say, because clearly, despite ten years, nothing had changed.

My cold stare landed on Marissa over Gunnar’s shoulder, and she froze, startled.

Shoving myself up off the snowy ground before the conviction left me once more and the pain returned, I spun around and ran toward the Razor that we’d just vacated. Jumping into the driver’s seat, I turned the key and the engine roared to life.

Throwing it into drive, I squealed to the right, the tires spitting mud and snow.

If I didn’t get out of here, I would hurt her. I would destroy Marissa, and nothing would stop me. No guilt. No pain. No fear. Just nothing.

“Willow!” Gunnar shouted, sprinting toward me as I gunned it across the road. My mind was so caged within thoughts of pain that I barely noticed his hands latch around the frame. He managed to scrape himself into the vehicle as I barreled down the path.

Past the bunkhouses, up to the left where the road ended. But I didn’t. I drove like a madwoman, ignoring the ringing in my ears. I knew Gunnar was saying something, trying to talk to me, but I couldn’t hear anything.

It was just a hat; I knew that. But it wasn’t just a hat.

It was my ice cold skin flattened beneath an increasing force.

Hot breath vibrated against my ear, but I couldn’t move. My arms remained still, not pinned by my sides, not restrained by anything, but I couldn’t move. A voice in my head screaming at me to run, but my legs were as frozen as my entire body felt. There was nowhere to go, nothing I could do but stare at that wall.

A massive bump bounced me off of the seat, snapping me back to the present. Tears of anger and the desire to escape it forever streamed down my face.

After everything I’d overcome, it still wasn’t enough. I was angry at them, but I was even more angry at myself for caring so much. How many times would they prove to me that I was nothing more than whatever money I could bring them before I finally understood? Before I stopped caring what they thought?

My blood curdled with the thought of what they expected of me because of what he brought them.

I drew in a final breath, cut short by the pressure deepening against my chest. I gasped for air, desperately seeking an escape.

Snapping my mind away from that horrible night, I rammed my eyes shut. An escape. That was all I’d wanted.

I was twenty-seven years old, hadn’t lived at home since I was seventeen, hadn’t had a single second of contact for the past ten years other than the funeral for my grandpa, and yet I still clung to the small morsel of hope that I was worth more than a dollar sign to them.

“WILLOW!” Gunnar bellowed beside me, and I snapped my eyes open as he jerked the steering wheel to the right, tearing us away from the tree I hadn’t realized was right in front of us. And it hit me at that moment that he’d been here all along. That I wasn’t driving only myself to the permanent escape I so desired. I let go of the column entirely and released my foot from the gas pedal, breathing shallowly and sporadically.

“I’ll never be enough,” I whispered, letting the tears crash down my face as the Razor slowed. “I’ll never be enough for them.”

I continued to sob as Gunnar slowly reached a leg over and pressed on the brake. Throwing the side-by-side into park, we settled into an idle.

“It doesn’t matter what I do, how much I prove to them they were wrong, it won’t ever be enough,” I mindlessly spoke between the tears that froze against my cheeks. “So why can’t I seem to stop caring?”

He didn’t say anything, slowly exiting the Razor and wading through the snow that was quickly becoming deeper by the minute. Opening my door, he gently grabbed my hands that were limp in my lap.

“That’s the difference between you and them,” he whispered, tugging me out of the side-by-side. Scooping me up, he trudged through the shin-deep snow again around the front of the Razor. “You care.”

“But why does it have to hurt so badly?” I asked as he set me down softly in the passenger seat.

“I don’t know, Princess.”

“It’s not fair,” I mumbled, curling up into a ball as he shut the door and returned to the driver’s side.

“No, it’s not,” he answered, putting the Razor back into drive and urging the vehicle forward. At first, it ground, sliding across the snow, but eventually the tires caught onto something solid enough and it lurched forward. The snow came down increasingly harder and thicker. I had no idea how he knew where we were going or how we were moving at all. It was slow, but we were going somewhere.

“I just wish they would tell me why. Explain why they told me I shouldn’t ever do this, why they always told me I would never amount to anything if I did. They never even let me try.” I remained curled up tightly as the Razor slowly fishtailed, and Gunnar cursed under his breath. “Or why did they suddenly change their minds and want to experience the Western lifestyle? Why now?”

“Let me get this straight,” Gunnar said, trying to regain some forward movement of the Razor. “You grew up telling them you wanted to be a cowgirl.”

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