Page 8 of The Wrong Drive-
Her green eyes widen as she spots me, her back up against one of the old pine trees. Her hand is still bleeding, and the sight makes me feel…nothing.
“I…I…” Her voice is meek, fragile.
I glare at her, but I can’t find the words as I take in the damp hair sticking to her face, the shitty cheap coat, and her soaked denim. She won’t last two hours out here.
I’ll put her out of her misery.
I raise the rifle, and her teeth audibly chatter as she wraps her arms around herself. The absolute terror in her eyes suddenly help me find my voice. She’s just so damn fragile, I have to pry.
“Why are you here?” The gravel in my tone booms as my gaze bores into hers.
“I…” Her lips are tainted a light shade of blue. I was wrong. She might not last the hour. “I was trying to… I thought this was…”
“Speak in full sentences,” I bark, taking a step toward her. She winces. My finger is on the trigger now, reminding me of my old nickname.
‘Get ‘em, Trigger.’I hear Bradford’s voice in my head, his hand on my shoulder. Those were the good days. Before I broke. Before everything in my life went to hell in a hand basket.
“I was supposed to be staying with my boyfriend for the holidays at his c-c-cabin,” she begins. “And my GPS went to shit. He said a black gate, and I thought this was it, and I got stuck. He said he’ll pick me up if I tell him where I am.”
Alarms sound in my head. “He’s on his wayhere?”
She gets this confused look on her face. “I don’t know.”
I think back to the truck. It can’t be seen from the road where it sits. “Does he have this location?”
“I don’t know.” She lets out a defeated sigh, and in the moment, a tear slips down her cheek. I’m not sure there’s anything particularly special about her. I don’t really care about her as anything other than a warm body. But Idocare if I’m going to have more visitors.
So, I repeat myself. “Does he know where you are?”
She meets my gaze again, and immediately, I sense she’s considering the idea of lying. And in her defense, the smart thing to do in this situation would be to lie. If someone knows where she is, that typicallywouldincrease her chance of surviving.
But I’m physically capable of digging two graves—if I even bother with it.
“He doesn’t know,” I answer for her.
A tear slips down her cheek again. I recoil at the sight. She might be better off dead. I run my tongue over my bottom lip, as Gunner inches closer to her, his tail wagging with unease…orsomething else?
“No,” I warn him, and he stops a foot or so from her.
“I’m really sorry for bothering you.” Her voice breaks, and she looks away from me. “It’s been such a shitty day. I can maybe try to get unstuck, if you’ll just let me?—”
I shake my head, cutting her off from speaking.“No.”
“Okay, well…” She lets out a dry, bitter laugh. “Will you justdowhatever you’re going to? Because the way I see it, I’ll either die by that .308 you have, or I’ll die in the elements.”
“So, you’re not a total idiot,” I mumble under my breath.
“What?” Her voice is abrasive to my ears. I don’t like it.
I don’t think I like her.
My rifle is still pointed at her chest. I could just shut her up indefinitely, but something about her grinds my instincts to a halt. I know if I pull the trigger, I might spend days, if not weeks,unable to shake her cold, wounded expression. It’s happened before.
I don’t want it to happen again.
Fuck, what a dilemma.
She takes an audible breath, and then pushes off the tree. The movement has me in motion before I even realize what I’m doing. She lets out a cry as she falls to the ground face first, the butt of my rifle sending her there.
