No Service

No Service

By Krista Turner Clark

Chapter 1

CHAPTER

ONE

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Dropping my phone on the floor of the truck, I jerk my body back against the car door and let out a guttural scream, pressing against the passenger window with every fiber of my being to distance myself from the driver’s side, my feet creating indents in the leather as I pull them to my stomach.

In the driver’s side window is a man wearing a Ghostface mask, holding a knife backward, showing off the handle that made the noise.

The door slings open, bouncing back with force, and he launches himself onto the console while gripping it and shoving his face an arm’s length away from mine.

I frantically kick one of my legs out, and my foot connects with his shoulder. He howls, and his shoulders slacken as he rears back in pain, clutching his upper arm.

“Ow, babe, what the hell?” he says, his voice full of discomfort.

Realization and anger pour over me. Ryan rips off the mask and casually tosses the knife on his seat.

“That wasn’t funny, Ryan! We are literally in the middle of nowhere!” I yell at him as my voice quivers, my breath winding down.

He chuckles, stroking his shoulder. “Marley, come on, all the kids are doing it.”

Rolling my eyes, I catapult myself over to him and shove the shoulder I kicked. “We’re thirty, Ryan!”

He lets out another laugh mixed with a groan from the pain.

“I just want to spice things up, and chasing you through the woods in a mask and catching you sounds adventurous,” he says, wagging his eyebrows at me.

My nostrils flare as a look of smugness fills my face. “There are no complaints in that department.”

“Do it for me then, it’s just a little role play.” Ryan looks at me with silent determination as his eyes light up with desire.

Swallowing back down a laugh, I shake my head, already knowing I’m going to do it. Unfastening the handle on the truck door, I jump out. I take a deep breath of fresh air. The sun is about to set and silence covers us. No one is around us for what seems like miles.

Ryan runs over to my side with the mask and knife in hand.

“Alright, track star, let’s see if you still got it.” He winks at me.

“There’s no way in hell you’ll catch me,” I tease him.

He cocks his head to the side, grinning and flashing those pearly white teeth. “Who said anything about catching you? I just have to find you.”

Shivers roll through me, and my thighs clench involuntarily. This man. Even after a decade together, the sexual tension between us still lingers thick in the air.

“And if you catch me, what then?” I purr.

His eyes darken as his voice deepens. “Complete submission.”

“Seems like a fair deal,” I respond as my cheeks flush.

Turning around, dirt kicks up behind my heels as I take off in the opposite direction, and all I hear is Ryan snorting to himself.

After sprinting for a few minutes, I settle into a steady pace and take in my surroundings.

It really is beautiful here. Tomorrow, we plan to carry our kayak to the Blackwater River, which is what the Blackwater River State Forest is named for.

I have no idea what direction that is. Ryan is more into this ‘out in the wild’ stuff than I am. Right now, all I can see is that we’re encircled by trees and, of course, Ryan wanted to camp as far away from the campground as possible.

You know, real camping with no running water. It's called primitive camping, Ryan informed me.

The things you do for the people you love, I think, sighing at this whole idea.

Skipping Christmas with our families was one of the best decisions we could’ve made. We have time off from our jobs and can enjoy it together. I didn’t realize how much I needed this until now.

Now, to start off the new year, Ryan convinced me to reconnect with nature and go camping.

He works as an accountant for a large outdoors company, and I am a freelance graphic designer.

Basically, we sit at desks for a large part of our day.

Hence, this trip and not having internet unless it’s hooked up to the truck’s Wi-Fi, which is spotty at best. It isn’t my ideal vacation.

Lying out by some form of water with a drink in my hand was my suggestion for our vacation. But again, the things you do for the people you love.

The hairs stand up on the back of my neck as I grow rigid. Stopping abruptly, my head swivels around, breathing deeply from exerting myself from the run. I could’ve sworn I heard whispering.

We knew this area would be empty due to the fact that people are still traveling or staying with family around the holidays.

Shaking my head, skepticism sweeps over me. I huff, thinking that I must be hearing things, so I turn in another direction and take off in a relaxed jog.

Not straying from the main path, I spot a divot and make a decision to catch my breath there for a minute and hide behind a tree. I regulate my breathing, inhaling through my nose and exhaling through my mouth. Then, I hear sneakers pounding the ground at a rapid rate, obviously belonging to Ryan.

My body stiffens, trying not to move an inch as I stay tucked behind the tree, willing him to pass by me, ecstatically grinning from ear to ear. Part of me wants him to find me, curious to see what he has in store.

Listening closely, I hold my breath as I attempt to detect which path he decided to choose, and it sounds like he took the path on the left.

I leap out of my hiding place, planning to take the path on the right, when a hand suddenly slithers around my neck, choking me while pulling me back into his chest.

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