Page 10 of Through The Woods

Chapter Three

We picked up Trever and continued driving until we were out of the city and on a winding mountain road. The two men carried on a terse discussion from the front seat, while I lay in the backseat with my head against the glass.

Coke used to give me such a high, but now the euphoria only seemed to last for a few minutes. Once those few minutes were up, I was overwhelmed with sadness again.

It made me want my mom.

You know how, as a kid, moms could fix anything? That was how I felt—completely despondent and in need of my mom to step in and make everything right again.

I just needed to lay my head against her chest while she stroked my hair—well, it was definitely not going to happen in this lifetime, but I yearned for it nonetheless. Thinking of her caused my throat to tighten. I wasn’t going to cry over it. Not now.

I reached down and felt my side. Blood was still trickling out, but it seemed as if it had slowed some. I was still struggling to stay awake though. Maybe Clint was taking me to a doctor.

Yeah, that was it.

He was going to find me a mountain doctor that worked with outlaws all the time. He’d know just what to do to fix a stab wound.

I closed my eyes and dozed until the truck stopped suddenly and my head hit the seat in front of me.

“Neve, wake up. We’re here.” Clint had the back door open before I was even fully conscious. I was completely disoriented as he pulled me from the warmth of the truck and out into the cool mountain air. It didn’t matter that it was July—Colorado was always chilly at night; even more so up here in the mountains.

I wrapped my arms around myself and stumbled on the uneven ground as I fought to remain upright. We were in the middle of the woods. Maybe the doctor’s place was hidden back in the trees?

Trev’s face made me pause. He looked scared. I held a hand up and waved at him weakly. “I’m fine. It’s just a scratch, really.”

Clint wrapped his arms around my body and I leaned into him, as crickets chirped around us. “Baby, the man who came to the house—did he give you a name?”

I shook my head and snuggled closer into him. The light breeze made the hair on the back of my arms stand up and I wanted nothing more than to climb back into his truck and fall asleep again.

“What exactly did he say?” His tone was different, but in my weakened state, I was unable to determine if he was angry or not.

I held on tightly to him as I repeated the same thing I’d told him back at the house. “Well, he said you had twenty-four hours to get him the money or what he did to me would seem like nothing once he got ahold of you.”

His fingers dug into my shoulder blades painfully. “He said all that, did he? Was this before or after you fucked him?”

The addict was back.

I stiffened as my brain sent out a warning, seconds too late. He shoved me and I fell back against the soft earth, cracking my elbow on a large stone as I landed. Pain shot down into my fingers and I clutched at my arm in agony.

“Clint! I didn’t even know the man—I’d just gotten home—”

He was on top of me before I could finish my sentence. “Tell me the truth!” His eyes were wild and unfocused, indicating that he’d done a lot more than just coke tonight.

I shook my head and tried to pat his chest with my good arm. If I could just calm him down, he’d see how crazy this was. Trever made no move to interrupt, choosing to turn the music up in the truck to drown out our voices instead.

Clint’s hand cupped my face before moving down my body. Before I could breathe a sigh of relief, his fingers dug into my side, reopening the wound again. The breeze hit the wetness on my shirt, only making me feel colder.

“You lied, Neve. I saw it in the mirror. You were with him. How long have you been sleeping with him behind my back? Did you tell him where it was?”

Gone was my high and just like every time before, my heart broke as the madness overtook him. Why couldn’t he see what he was doing to me? It hadn’t mattered that I’d never once cheated on him, the Addict was convinced that I was on a mission to destroy him.

I’d just opened my mouth to reply when his hand shot up and wrapped around my throat. I brought both arms up and attempted to break his contact, but he easily blocked me.

“I don’t know who all you’ve been talking to, but I’m not going down because some cokehead bitch can’t keep her mouth or her legs shut.” He squeezed harder as tears rolled down his cheeks and fell onto my face. The cracks in my heart spread as his words pierced me until only caverns remained.

This wasn’t him.

I struggled in his grip, but he didn’t let up. Being choked was just one more thing that wasn’t at all how it was portrayed in the movies. According to Hollywood, the person being choked would make all sorts of loud gurgling and coughing noises. That wasn’t even close to real life though.

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