Page 2 of Protected By the Ranger

I clutch my phone like a lifeline as I sprint toward the elevator. My naked feet don’t make a sound, but to my ears, each step announces my escape like drums. Glancing over my shoulder, I jab at the elevator button with frantic urgency.

The ding of the elevator doors opening feels like a cruel twist of fate. I hold my breath as I rush inside and jab the close button, knowing that the emergency bell is useless.

Just before the metal doors close, I catch a fleeting glimpse of a man emerging from my apartment, his shadowy form sending ice through my veins.

The elevator descends slowly, each second feeling like an eternity. The knowledge that he might be pursuing me makes my heart race faster. Who is he? Why is he following me? Shaking my head, I remind myself that I just need to focus on getting out of here right now.

When the elevator finally reaches the ground floor, I burst into the lobby. I fumble with my car keys, finally unlocking the door and sliding into the driver’s seat. As I throw the car into reverse, my phone rings, but I don’t take my eyes off the road.

When my phone rings incessantly, I answer it. “Ariel? Are you okay, babe? Talk to me!” Sam asks frantically.

“I’m here. I’m okay. Sam, I saw someone coming out of my apartment,” I tell her, my voice on the edge of sobbing. Adrenaline is fading, and my hand on the wheel shakes uncontrollably, but I keep driving.

“What the hell is going on, Ari?”

I choke out the words, “Weird things have been happening all week. I thought I was just paranoid, but someone’s been following me.”

“Damn it! Why didn’t you tell me this?” Her voice carries a hurt edge, and it twists my heart.

“You just had Hughie a month ago. I didn’t want to burden you,” I explain, trying to sound reasonable, but the lie is clear even to me. Maybe I was afraid to admit it, to make it real.

“You are my trouble. Don’t you dare forget that, you idiot! Whatever’s going on, you call me first. Got it?” she says. Her command leaves no room for argument.

“Yes, I will.”

“Where are you going now?” Sam’s voice trembles with concern.

I steady myself, trying to think clearly. “I need to be unpredictable. The man seems to know everywhere I go. I’ve got my essentials—cash, cards, laptop.”

“Go to your mother’s place.”

I flinch at the mention of her. “She hasn’t spoken to me in a year. I’ll just be an imposition for her.”

I force myself to ignore the sting. My gaze flicks to the rearview mirror, checking for any sign of pursuit.

“Come here, please,” Sam pleads.

Chuckling bitterly, I say, “My passport is back at home, and I hardly think going to Canada is a solution.”

“Then go to your grandad’s cabin. It’s a few hours away, and if this stalker’s been after you for a week, he won’t know about it. You haven’t been there in years.”

The Haven cabin? Yes! That could work. My heart lightens at the thought. I mentally list what I’ll need—gas, supplies. The idea of returning to my childhood sanctuary soothes the tight knot of fear in my chest.

“You can recuperate there and make a plan,” Sam says firmly. “If you need me, I’ll come down too. For now, just get to a safe place.”

I nod to myself. The secluded cabin is in an area I know well. It’s the perfect place to hide out until I can figure out what to do next.

“You’re right,” I agree. “I’ll head to the cabin. I know Ken keeps it stocked for winter.”

“Good. I know the reception can be spotty, so call me when you can, but keep texting. If you make me lose what little sleep I get, I will kill you, Ariel!” Sam’s tough love is evident; even a deaf person could hear the worry in her voice.

I assure Sam I’ll follow her orders and fill up on gas. Despite my better judgment, I call my mother, but it goes straight to voicemail, as usual. I keep a nervous eye on my surroundings and then head for Haven Valley, Montana.

The landscape shifts when I reach the town. Snow-covered trees and houses flank on either side of the road. It reminds me of building snowmen and cozy evenings with hot chocolate and campfire stories at the cabin.

A sudden jerk of the car snaps me back to reality. I didn’t notice that the snowfall has turned into a blizzard. I grip the steering wheel tightly as the car’s tires struggle for traction on the slick road.

Through the blur, I spot the “Lake Up Ahead” sign and know I’m close. As the cabin comes into view, I exhale in relief.

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