Chapter Nine
I don’t try to get anything, I leave the clothes and the jewelry; I don’t try to find the stash of cash I know Cal has. I just need to get out.
I pluck the keys for my truck off the hook and tiptoe toward the door, unlocking it and pause, listening for sounds throughout the house to suggest I may have woken him. When nothing happens, I open the door just wide enough to slip through the gap.
The gravel and grit bite into the bare soles of my feet as I cross toward the truck Cal bought for me last year. I know it has gas, not a lot, since he only ever allows me to have a quarter of a tank at a time, but it should get me at least fifty or sixty miles from here if I’m smart with it.
I never really understood why he bought me a truck when he never allowed me to drive it. He only allowed me to put in a small amount of gas, and I only ever went to the grocery store two miles away from home. Now I’m about to use it.
Glancing in the mirror, I make sure the house is still dark before I hold my breath and start the engine, pausing and waiting, hoping the noise doesn’t wake him.
When everything remains quiet and dark, I gently release the brake and ease myself down the drive, tapping at the onboard screen to bring up the car’s GPS system.
I type in the address for Silas’s ranch but wince when I see it’s exactly sixty-seven miles from here and my car’s computer predicts only sixty-one miles in the tank.
It’ll be a stretch, but I have to hope it’s enough.
I’m slow as I navigate my way down the long drive and away from the cage that has trapped me for way too long.
My breath is lodged in my throat the entire time, my eyes constantly flicking between the windscreen and the rearview mirror to make sure I’m not being followed.
I haven’t even switched on the headlights yet, but thankfully the drive is lit.
It’s dim, but enough to help me see my way out.
When I reach the end of the drive, I pull out onto the road, following the GPS as it guides me through the small town I’ve called home for the past five years and then onto the open highway.
There is nothing in front of me and nothing behind me; the roads practically empty since it’s so late. For the first time in years, a weight shifts inside me, lifting, freeing. Tears burn my eyes with it, and I have to blink rapidly to clear my vision.
I watch the miles tick down as I draw closer to Sunstone Ridge, but with it, so does my fuel, the little bar dropping steadily.
I’m not going to make it.
My hands curl around the steering wheel, and I shake my head at myself. I should be proud of what I’ve just done.
I left.
I’ve always been too afraid to leave, but not now. I did it. I chose myself.
I will make it even if I have to walk the rest of the way.
Taking the exit the GPS instructs me to, I follow the winding road and for the first time since I left; I see a signpost for Sunstone Ridge. Ten miles from here. I’ve got this.
The miles disappear quickly, and before I know it, I’m cruising down a narrow street, shops and cute little cafes shut for the night on either side of the street. It looks like the only place still open is some kind of bar, the neon sign out front reading Sunstone Saloon. Cute.
I take a left at the end of Main Street; my surroundings immediately changing from buildings to rolling fields and towering pines, the darkness making it all appear a little ominous.
Mountains stretch toward the sky, seeming so close I could touch them, their peaks grazing the stars that twinkle against an endless velvet night.
The engine of my truck stutters once, twice…
“No,” I whisper. “Come on.” I stare at the dial for my fuel, but there’s no way I’ll get another mile out of her.
The truck limps for another few yards before it completely dies, coming to a stop at the side of a thin dirt road. There’s at least enough space for a car to pass me should they need to.
Thankfully, the truck isn’t completely dead, and everything inside is still running off the battery, so I tap against the screen, following the blue line on my GPS to see how far away I am from Knight Falls Ranch.
According to this, there’s only another two and a half miles and the road is straight.
Glancing up, I stare out into the darkness, my heart beginning to thump steadily.
Fear rises with it. I’ve never been fond of the dark—I can handle it for the most part, but knowing I’m going to be out there alone has my skin crawling.
There are no lights around me, the town a distant blur behind me.
I don’t want to wait until morning—what if Cal decides to come looking for me?
If he’s smart, he’ll know this is where I have come, and if I’m alone, nothing is stopping him from dragging me away.
“I can do this.” I whisper to myself as I turn the key and cut the truck off, killing the lights. I’m plunged into such a deep, fathomless dark, for a moment I can’t even make out the shape of my hand.
Breathing deeply, I let the fear have its moment before I push it down. Not now. I cannot stop now. Slowly, my eyes adjust to the dark, shapes and outlines coming into view as I look around me. And then I reach for the handle and step out of the safety of my car.
It’s a warm Montana night; crickets chirp in the long grasses on either side of me, and the ground beneath my bare feet is only slightly colder than the air.
“Just go straight,” I whisper, hitting the button to lock the truck, and then I start to walk, following the dirt road without looking back. Grit and dirt bite into the soles of my feet, cutting, but still, I don’t stop.
Dread pools in my lower gut when I hear the crunch of tires behind me a moment before bright lights cut through the darkness, lighting up the road and bleeding into the fields on either side.
He’s found me already.
I don’t think, I just run, ignoring the way the rocks cut into my feet deeper and the crippling fear that has my knees wanting to buckle. I’m not sure I’ll survive if I go back with Cal. Not because I don’t want to, but because he will kill me. Maybe not now, but he will eventually.
The car speeds up and drives by me before they slam on the brakes and come to a stop in front of me. I don’t recognize it; it’s an older truck, not something Cal would be driving.
The door opens and slams shut before a woman starts running toward me.
“Holy shit!” She hollers, “What the hell are you doing?”
She skids to a stop and I stare at her, barely making out her features. She has dark hair and is wearing an oversized tee with a pair of denim shorts, but I feel her eyes on me, staring, waiting…
“I—well—”
“Are you lost?” She asks me more gently now, taking a step closer, but I flinch, my arms immediately coming around my body.
Her hands go up, “Where are you going?” She asks.
“I’m trying to find Silas,” I whisper.
Her eyes widen a fraction, “Silas Knight?”
I nod.
She wets her lips and glances back to her truck before bringing her eyes back to me, “My name is Niamh, Silas is my brother-in-law.”
“I was just trying to get to him,” I tell her. “My truck ran out of gas, and I don’t have a cell phone.”
“It’s okay,” She soothes, coming closer. Her eyes land on the bruise on my face, the skin cut in the center where his ring had caught me during the strike. “Shit.”
“I’m sorry,” my voice shakes, “I can just go back to my truck. It’s fine.”
“No,” she blurts, reaching for me as if to stop me from turning away, but she drops her hand before she makes contact. “I can drive you.”
I worry my bottom lip, wondering if I should trust this woman.
“We live on the same ranch,” she continues. “I’m married to his brother, Roman. My name is Niamh Calloway-Knight, here.” She reaches into her back pocket and pulls out her cell phone, snapping off the case to pull out her ID. She shows it to me, proving she is who she says she is.
“Okay,” I breathe.
She seems to release a heavy breath and then nods softly, “Come on then.”
I follow Niamh back to her truck, forcing away the nerves as I get into the passenger seat.
“I didn’t catch your name,” Niamh pulls away from the side of the road, her voice soft.
“Juniper,” I reply, my hands wringing in my lap, “Or Juni, if you like.”
“That’s such a beautiful name,” she beams at me.
“Thank you.”
I see her roll her hands on the steering wheel nervously, and the cab falls silent as she drives us the rest of the way, turning into the driveway that has an arch with a sign swinging from the top.
Knight Falls Ranch.
I fidget in my seat as Niamh comes to a stop outside a log cabin, warm light spilling out of the windows on the ground floor. She gets out before I do, but I join her on the doorstep, my breath stalling when she lifts her hand to knock.
“He never sleeps,” she tells me, a forced smile on her face.
The door swings open roughly and then he’s there…
I stare at him, standing in the doorway in just a pair of flannel pajama pants, a pair of thick, black-rimmed glasses covering his eyes, and no shirt.
Muscles are stacked on top of muscles, a smattering of hair across his chest and a trail that leads from his navel to beneath his pants.
His hair looks disheveled, a lot messier than he wore it back at the ranch with me, like he’s ran his hand through it several times.
“Juni?” His honey-gold eyes widen, not straying from where I stand in front of him.
“I’m sorry,” I rasp, stepping closer to the door, closer to him, “I had nowhere else to go.”
His eyes zone in on the bruise and the cut, something twisting in his gaze.
A muscle twitches in his cheek. “He fucking touched you?” He growls, coming closer, his finger curling beneath my chin to tilt my face toward the porch light to better examine the wound on my face.
His touch is so gentle, so soft, despite the anger that vibrates through him.
“He found your card.” I swallow, “And he thought the worst of me.”
His face crumbles, “Come here.”
Maybe it’s the pain, maybe it’s exhaustion or maybe it’s just a moment to feel safe, but I go to him and I let him wrap his arms around me, bringing me into his chest. His arms seal me to him, his citrus and leather scent wrapping around me.
“I’m so fucking sorry, honeybee,” he whispers into my hair, my breath stalling for a second at the sweet little pet name he just mumbled, “So fucking sorry.”
“It isn’t your fault,” I say into his chest.
“Come on,” he pulls away but doesn’t let go, “Let’s get you inside. I need to deal with that cut.”
“Her feet,” Niamh starts backing up from the porch, “You need to deal with her feet too.”