Page 48 of Ruining Vanessa

Giulio’s expression goes cold. “You need more incentive than that? Fine. If you don’t play along, we drive back right now, and I make you watch while I sell Stef to the highest bidder. Whoever it is will want a test drive, too. And I’ll make sure Stef knows it’s your fault.”

My breath catches in my throat, and tears sting my eyes. That’s not fucking fair, and he knows it. He knows I’d never risk someone else’s well-being like that. I snatch the backpack up off the ground. “Fine,” I snap. “I’ll play your fucking game.” The anger is a relief, a break in the constant fear and humiliation and confusion, and I pull the bag on and tighten the straps. “Leave Stef out of it. She never did anything to you.”

“I would not give two fucks about Stef if you didn’t care about her,” Giulio answers. He taps on his phone. “Your ten minutes start… now.”

I don’t bother making a retort or trying to reason with him. There’s no point. The only way out of this is to escape. If he finds me too quickly, he’ll think I wasn’t really trying, and he’ll hurt Stef.

And there’s this thin shimmer of hope that I might actually manage to escape.

Where I’d go, I have no idea, but that’s something to figure out later.

I take off running in the opposite direction of Giulio. Once I put enough distance between us, I can try to figure out the survival things that might get me through this. Like figuring out which side of the trees moss is growing on… Is that north? Is there even a highway north? Or should I try a different direction?

It doesn’t matter. Right now, all I care about is getting away.

For a good five minutes, I just run, blindly fighting my way through the tree branches. I’m glad for the gloves, which make it possible to deal with some of the thicker bushes that cling to my hoodie. They’re thin, and not much help, but they’re better than bare hands.

When I finally slow down, I double over, trying to catch my breath.

It’s shameful, honestly. I was never a gym bunny, but I was always in good shape before. Now, a couple months of being trapped in a single room have made me incapable of even a simple adrenaline-fueled run.

I try to catch my breath, and as soon as I feel like I’m not going to pass out anymore, I slowly turn. I examine the trees, but there’s nothing to indicate a direction. I have no idea where I am, or if there are just miles and miles of wilderness that lead to nothing at all.

There’s a very real chance I’m just going to die out here, starving and desperate and alone, and it’s a thought that hits me like a punch in the gut.

I don’t have time to dwell on it, though. I continue moving, albeit keeping my pace more measured as I traipse in the same direction in the hopes that I might eventually find something. Higher ground, even, to try to find a way out. A river to follow. Something.

If I live through this, I’m taking survival classes.

When.

I talk myself through just what I’ll do, trying to give myself as much hope as I can by saying that I’m going to do this. It’s just a matter of how long it takes, and I’m strong. I’ve dealt with them; I can deal with a little time outside in nature. It’s a gorgeous day, and I’m not even cold anymore because of the run.

I don’t stop to appreciate it, though; that would just be ridiculous. Giulio may not be an outdoorsman, but you don’t have to be super intelligent to see where I’ve crashed through the trees in my initial run. I have to go more slowly now, picking my way around trees instead of just breaking branches as I go, and I try to leave as few traces as possible of my passing.

I wish I had a watch to see how much time I’ve already been out here, but I have nothing but the backpack. I hesitate, not wanting to pause to check out its contents. My throat is burning, though, and I pull the bag off my shoulders to dig through it. There isn’t much—a few bottles of water, a few protein bars. Nothing I could survive off for long, but then, I wasn’t expecting much from Giulio.

I gulp down half of one water bottle before forcing myself to slow down, exhaling slowly and wiping my mouth before putting the cap back on. I put everything away and stand again, and I continue in the direction I was heading.

It takes me a while to realize I don’t hear the sound of the birds chirping.

Instead, I hear twigs snapping in the distance. I spin around to face their source, but I see nothing. My heart is hammering in my chest even more than it had been when I was running, because now I feel like I’m in a horror movie.

I pause each time I hear something in the distance, but the sounds always seem to be coming in different directions. They’re prominent, too, not something I can excuse as coming from a squirrel or a small creature.

Everything is still, except for me.

Except for what’s stalking me.

I swallow hard, slowly turning around to take in my surroundings. It’s not possible that Giulio has found me, unless this is one of his unorthodox hobbies. There’s no way he ran after me fast enough to keep up, or that he’s managed to track me here.

But if it’s not Giulio, what is it?

After a small eternity, I notice the trees starting to space out more, gradually opening up into what looks like a clearing up ahead. My heart skips a beat, and I don’t know if I should go toward it and find out what’s there, or if I should go as far away from it as I can.

Before I can make a decision, a branch snaps behind me.

Not a twig.

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