Page 115 of Freshmeet
Rolling onto my stomach, I pushed up, ignoring the searing pain in my right hand. I scrambled to my feet and took off. Just steps away, my heel caught on a huge root, and I stumbled into a tree.
My heartbeat thundered in my ears, so I held my breath, desperate to keep track of my attacker behind me.
Branches nicked my face and arms as I ran through the humid night. Heavy footsteps fell behind me. The closer I got to the field, the closer they got to me. I didn’t dare look back. I just kept pushing, riding the endorphins pumping through my body from the injury.
Gasping for air, I jumped over a huge log, cleared it, but landed on my ankle wrong. “Ah!” I couldn’t stop though. My body screamed in pain, but I limped along, determined to make it to safety.
How much farther?
The fireworks stopped, and everything fell silent. I could just pick up the sound of muffled music over the buzz of the cicadas.
I don’t hear him.
“Help!” I screamed, panting as I hobbled along. “Please! Help!” Crying, I kept screaming.
There were no more footsteps, and hope bloomed in my chest.
Almost there.
Ahead, a dark figure stepped out from behind a tree, and I stumbled. “No,” I cried.
They lunged for me, and I fell backward on my ass. Shuffling back, I slammed into a tree. “Please. Stop,” I begged, holding my hands up as they closed the distance between us.
They raised the knife in the air and swung it down, slicing my palms. I screamed until my throat was raw, but it didn’t matter. No one was coming.
The faceless attacker crouched down, wiping his knife off on my pants. Tilting his head, he clicked his tongue as he slowly shook his head.
“Please let me go,” I pleaded quietly, my voice hoarse.
I watched them warily, curling in on myself as they stood.
“Please,” I whimpered.
They sheathed their knife, and I gasped.
This is it. Everything is going to be?—
They grabbed a fistful of my short brown hair and pulled me toward the treehouse. My back hit every stick, tree root, and rock as they dragged me through the underbrush.
“Help!” I called out, my voice breaking as a new wave of fireworks lit the sky.
TWENTY-FIVE
PAINTED UP LIKE A 1950S HUSSY
CONNOR
“I want to show you something.” I hadn’t sobered up at all, so the walk to the barn was dangerous. First, Sarah stepped into a hole, nearly wiping us both out, then my heel got caught on something, and I stumbled into her.
When my hand touched the side of the barn, I threw my arms in the air and shouted, “We made it!”
“Just barely.” Sarah smiled up at me, clutching my shirt to steady herself.
The barn was pitch black as I fumbled for the light switch to the stairs. “I know it’s here somewhere.”
“Got it.” Still holding on to me for dear life with one hand, Sarah’s other rested on the switch.
I pulled her in for a quick kiss, not letting myself get lost in her softness. “Come on,” I muttered against her lips.
