Page 6 of Cedar Edge
Nestled in the heart of the PNW mountains sits a small town modeled after the old west. The buildings draw tourists from all around to come and spend a day with real life cowboys on the ranch or grab a drink at Shelia’s Old Saloon, but for me it’s my home. The only place I’ve known, and despite the memories, the only place I could think to run. The only place that hadthem.My eyes finally snag on our destination, and my stomach drops even further. The parking lot is large, far too large for the diner that occupies it. The flashing sign above the diner, flickers in and out too fast for me to be able to read it through the rain, soaked windows.
The bus pulls to a stop and people start to get up, grumbling while stretching their limbs, but I can’t seem to move. I’m frozen between needing to flee and needing to hide. When I’m jostled once again by the old lady next to me, I realize that the driver has been speaking the whole time.
“Do you know how far we are from the mountain pass?” I pray my voice doesn’t betray the frenzy that my body is starting to feel.
I can’t stop, he’ll find me if I stop.
The old woman looks at me with narrowed eyes before she rolls them. “If you had been listening at all, you would know we are at the bottom of the pass now. He said we’ll continue on in the morning.” Her voice contains heavy annoyance and if I wasn’t in such dire straits, I would probably snap back. But I simply nod my head muttering thanks as I sink down lower in my seat.
Slowly, but surely the bus empties out until it’s just me. The driver shoots me an annoyed look and I wince. “Everyone off the bus while the driver is off” he demands.
I can’t find the words to beg him to let me stay on here, so I snag my backpack up off the floor, the pathetic canvas bag the only thing I have to my name now. Making sure my hood securely covers my face and hair I head towards the front doors. It feels like a goddamn funeral march. The closer I get the more erratic my heartbeat and the more sweat slicks my palms.
I try to count the steps, focusing on the feel of my feet hitting the ground and not the idea of the torment that awaits me if I’m recognized and caught. As I pass the driver, I feel his eyes lookme over, the orbs burning a hole into my back just as I move to take the first step down.
“You know, there was a missing person’s PSA put out for all of us drivers.” His words make me freeze at the top of the stairs. “Mind taking your hood down?”
My whole body trembles. Frozen. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end as I feel him come up behind me. The heat of his body pressing into mine and yet I still can’t move, everything in me screams to run and yet my body won’t fucking move. It’s another betrayal of my flesh to add to the already long list.
Run. You need to run.
I feel his hand as it pulls down my hood, and he forces my body to turn towards him, a soft cry escaping my lips. For a moment I think he has no idea who I am but then in slow motion I see the flare of recognition. I watch his hand outstretched and reaching for his radio no doubt to send word that he’s located me.
Something deep within finally jerks me back to life and I rip my arm free of his grip. He shouts as I bolt down the stairs into the late summer storm. The wind drags at my body as I flee across the parking lot. He yells out behind me, but I keep going despite the burn in my limbs already. I’ve never been athletic, unless you count climbing trees, and my time with Royce Ripken the III did not improve that. I’m nothing but skin and bones that honestly the wind could probably drag away, and at this point I think I’d let it.
My eyes snag on a sign, and I could sob with relief and utter devastation when I see what it says, Cedar Edge 15 miles. Glancing up the road I cringe at the inky dark of the night, made worse by the storm. 15 miles on foot already feels difficult but in this weather it feels impossible.
My feet slow and I turn back towards the bus. I catch a glance of the driver, phone raised to his ear. The visual has me kickingback into a run. I throw myself into the woods instead of keeping to the pavement, cutting off his view of where I’m going, but also cutting off my direct path.
After what feels like an eternity, I finally slow down as the thick woods press in around me. My body shivers as a particularly strong gust of wind whips through the small cracks in the dense forest and my legs feel like jelly. Finding the largest tree I can, I press my back into it before sliding down into the dirt.
The sounds of the impending storm surround me, the massive pines creaking and groaning, as the wind whips through the leaves. I press my hand to my chest as I try to force my breathing to slow. For a heartbeat I once again wonder if I made the wrong choice, running into these woods. Knowing my luck, I would run into a giant bear, but if it’s between a bear or Royce, I’ll take the bear any fucking day.
They tell you hell is full of flames and chains and the monsters of your worst nightmares. But my hell is dressed in a Versace suit and smells like tequila. There are no flames, though there are chains wrapped around my legs. My hell is full of marble hallways, parties that descend into madness after dark, and dreams that are snuffed out before they can even become a thought.
I flinch as the ruler of my Hell drags his fingers down my skin. He tsks, the sound the only warning I get before his fist connects with my cheek. I should know better, I should know how to hide my physical reactions to this demon dressed as an angel.
“You know Theadora this would be a whole lot easier if you would just admit we belong together.” His words are a soft purr.
“I don’t belong to you.” I say, stupidly.
He tsks. “I never should have allowed you to slum it for so long with those… those heathens. Do you really think they care for you? They abandoned you.”
Tears well in my eyes and I hate the truth behind his statement. I’m not sure how he knew about them, but somehow he had figured out how much Ace, Logan, and Law truly meant to me. So, now it was some type of sick game he played, reminding me every time he fucked me that they would never touch me like this. That he owns me. I used to try to fight back, I tried so hard, but now I'm exhausted and the truth of his words sink into my soul. The last piece of resistance I was holding on to dissolves away when he slides home inside me.
“You are mine little doll, from now until eternity. You will never escape me.”
I'm not sure if it's the nightmare or the storm that forces me awake, but I gasp for air as if I’m still choking, my hand flying to my throat as the feel of Royce’s fingers linger. The air around me is angry as the late August storm tears through the forest. The trees swaying against the onslaught and I shiver as I hear the unmistakable sound of a branch snapping.
It won’t be a bear or Royce that kills me, it’ll be a damn tree. I press harder against the bark as though that’ll save me from being crushed. A soft whimper escaping my lips.
I used to think I could rough it if needed, that when the world ended and turned into some version ofMad Maxmixed withThe Last of Us,that I would survive just fine. But the truth is, I absolutely would be one of the first to die. There is no reality inwhich I would be some badass chick running down zombies in her car with only her wits and knife to protect her. Nor would I be some amazon-like female swinging down from the trees to save humanity with the herbs I’d collected in the forest. Nope. I would absolutely die immediately..
I’m not cut out for this life. I’m cut out for frolicking through flower fields and watching storms safely behind closed doors. Cup of coffee and good book in hand while wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket. That's the life I’m meant for. Not this. Not sitting in the forest, fleeing for my life right back to the town that killed my mom and sent me off to die. Lightning cracks across the sky in a brilliant display that I would appreciate more if I didn’t feel like Mother Nature was actually about to kill me. Snatching the last of my water from my bag I take a few sips of the stale, plastic tasting beverage. More lightning splits the evening sky and I tremble. The forest is not a place one wants to be in a lightning storm.
It all feels like an omen telling me not to go home. To stay as far away from the people that broke my heart as possible, and yet it’s the only place I can go if I have any hope of escaping Royce. I don’t want to ask them for help, but my pride was burned away from me long ago and if they are my only way out I’ll deal with seeing them. Humiliating myself in front of them is better than Royce keeping me. Shoving the bottle back into my pack, my hand brushes against my cell phone and I hate the nausea that pools in my gut as I remember the last few messages Royce sent me.
Royce: Theadora…
