Chapter One #2
I try to keep my cool so I don't freak Sammie out, but I'm a little nervous. Thank the good Lord above that tonight is my last night here. I doubt the stalker will be invested enough to follow me home, but I should probably at least let someone know what's going on.
I'll text Boomer when we get back to the dorm.
"Come on. Let's go eat the rest of my chocolate stash while we binge one of your ridiculous-as-hell reality shows."
Sammie and I stay up way too late for the day we have to face in the morning, with me driving home and her taking her last exam of the semester, but it’s so worth it.
I'm going to miss Sammie, but I'm super excited to have her come to the farm for a visit before she heads back home for the break to see her family.
"Alright, I've got everything—I think—but if you find something, just bring it when you come see me at the farm, okay?"
"Sure. I should be there in two days. I'm going to deep-clean our room before I head out, just in case they decide to room someone else with me when I get back.
You sure you can't stay one more semester?
" Sammie bats her long lashes at me, and if there was ever anyone who could get me to cave, it’s this girl.
Her puppy-dog eyes are seriously on point.
"I wish I could, for you, but it's killing me being away from the farm. Besides, you know how much I worry about Mama and Nana being on their own. I know they're more than capable of handling the farm, but I'm worried they might murder each other before I get home."
I've dealt with their bickering my whole life, and Sammie experienced it firsthand while we've FaceTimed them, so we both start laughing.
I love my Nana and Mama, but they're a damn handful.
"Okay, good luck with your final. I'll see you in a few days." I hug Sammie and hop into my truck. Rolling down the window, I blow her a kiss, then crank up my country music and peel out of the parking lot.
Only three hours, and then I'm where I was always meant to be: home.
I'm working in the goat pen when I hear a car coming up the driveway, its horn blaring the whole way. Dropping my tools in my bucket, I hop the fence and race towards the front of the house.
Sammie is just parking when I make it to her car. I rip the door open as she tumbles out, which sends us both crashing to the gravel in a pile of tangled limbs and laughs.
"Oh my. Look at you two."
Sammie and I find Mama and Nana standing on the porch, amusement on their faces.
"Oh. Hi, Mama! Nana!" Sammie squeals as we untangle ourselves.
I pull Sammie to her feet, then throw my arm over her shoulder and guide her up the stairs. Mama and Nana both take their turn fussing over her before they guide us into the house.
"How long are you staying with us, Sammie girl?" Mama asks as she pours us sweet tea.
"I can get away with a week before my parents demand I come home."
"A week is enough to convert you to the farm life," Nana says with a wicked grin.
"Sorry, Nana, but unless you have a top-of-the-line bio lab on the farm, I'm afraid I'll be a city girl for life."
"Eh, we'll see." Nana shrugs as if she can't fathom anyone wanting to live anywhere else.
I absolutely understand where she's coming from.
We spend the rest of the afternoon sipping sweet tea and reminiscing about our first semester at college, sharing some of our more exciting tales.
I've never really clicked with someone like I have with Sammie.
Having her in my home and seeing how well she fits in is confirmation that she's good people.
The week with Sammie here flies by. I love her to death, but the girl is city through and through.
Half of her time here, I spend laughing at her getting excited over the smallest things that don't even faze me anymore. I give her the full farm life experience: waking up first thing in the morning to do chores, riding the fences to make sure they’re still intact or do any necessary repairs, and checking the pumpkin crop and our other fall harvest even though it’s mostly over for the year.
Although she doesn't love mucking stalls, Sammie falls in love with the goats the moment she sees them.
“It’s a good thing you’re book smart because you’d never survive full time on the farm,” I tease as Sammie squeals and dodges the pile of horse shit she almost stepped in.
“Damn straight. I’d lose a boot in that pile.” She points dramatically behind her.
“Oh, come off it. It wasn’t that big. Besides, you’ve seen the horses. It makes sense.”
“Which is exactly why I will not be getting on one of those beasts. I will keep my feet firmly on the ground, thank you very much.”
I try to get Sammie on the horses, but she’s too chicken for that.
Speaking of chickens, she loves collecting the eggs, and before the week is over, she has crocheted me an apron with individual pockets for egg collection.
I have no idea how she made it so quickly, but it's pretty awesome and it's going to make egg gathering even better.
She promises Mama and Nana she'll make them their own as well.
The only animals we steer clear of are the pigs.
I don't dislike our pigs—in fact, I'm very much indebted to them—but it doesn't feel right taking her to see them knowing what they're capable of.
Thankfully, the other animals are enough to keep her attention, and I don't have to decide how much I should tell her.
We make several trips into town throughout the week.
Sammie's mind is blown by the fact that we don't have a single fast-food chain restaurant.
We do have a little diner, but it's seen better days, and I wouldn't be surprised if it closed soon. The current owner is getting up there in years and doesn't have anyone to leave the business to, like many people in town. But the food isn’t half bad, and I love teasing Sol when he’s working, so it’s worth the trip into town for a bite to eat every now and then.
I introduce her to Sol, one of my best friends, and my cousin, Thatcher. She gets a kick out of how different the guys are but how easily we all fall in sync when we're together.
We take Sammie fishing, which she detests, and mudding, which she loves. Who knew my pint-sized city girl would be a bigger adrenaline junkie than me.
It's Friday night, and Sammie and I are getting ready to head to Pour Decisions —the local bar, where they don't care if you're underage, as long as you're out of high school and have a safe way home.
I'm rocking my signature cutoffs, a ratty old t-shirt I stole from Sol and cut up to make it cute, and my worn cowboy boots. Sammie looks adorable in a sundress and boots she borrowed from Nana.
"Alright, we're heading out!" I holler towards the kitchen, where Mama and Nana are sharing a bottle of wine.
"Oh, don't you two look cute as a button. Have fun! Call us if you need a ride home." Mama squeezes us both.
"What the hell good will that do? By the time we finish that wine, we'll be two sheets to the wind." Nana cackles as her cheeks flush more.
I join in because she's not wrong. "We'll be fine. Thatch will be with us."
We're halfway down the path that leads to town through the woods when I get the feeling that we're being followed. I stop, back tense and eyes scanning the area.
"What is it?"
"Goosebumps just spread all over my body. It's like I can feel eyes on us."
Sammie steps closer as her gaze takes in our surroundings. It's not dark yet, but the woods are thick here, so anything could be hiding.
After another minute, I can't find anything out of the ordinary and relax a bit. "Come on. It was probably just an animal. Even the bigger predators usually leave humans alone."
We take off to the bar, where we find Thatcher waiting for us.
He ushers us in, and it's not long before we're all having a hell of a time.
Sammie is impressed with how nice and busy the place is, but when I explain that hanging out at Pour Decisions is basically the only thing to do on the weekend, it makes a little more sense to her.
The night is loud and fun as the drinks flow, and we all have a good time. Thatcher and Sammie seemed to have hit it off earlier, so it's no surprise when I come back from the bar to find them making out.
"Well, aren't you two cozy?" I tease.
Sammie startles from the kiss, her cheeks rosy.
"Shut it, Jo. I'm taking Sammie home tonight, and I will not stand for you giving her any shit about it."
"Oh, are you now, Thatcher DuVall?" I glare my cousin down and give him my best “don't fuck with my friend” face.
Sammie's eyes widen.
"Sure am, Jo-Jo," he teases.
My hackles raise.
"Don't call me that," I spit out.
"Alright, I think it's about time to call it a night. I'll walk you home. Let's go, ladies." Thatch stands, his hand out to pull Sammie up from her chair.
I trail behind them, rolling my eyes the whole way at how disgustingly cute they are.
We're just to the path that cuts through the woods when I pull up short. "You don't need to walk me to the house, Thatch. I'm practically home, and you and I both know I could walk this stretch with my eyes closed without anything happening to me. I can text you once I'm inside."
"Jo-Jo, I don't know…"
I love Thatcher and his sense of duty, but my friend is drunk as a skunk, based on how she’s leaning against his side, exhausted.
"It's fine, Thatcher. Promise."
"Alright. Text me when you're home." He hugs me before we part ways.
Grabbing Sammie’s arm, I pull her closer. “Call me tomorrow, and I’ll come grab you once you’re up and moving. I know you’ll need some sustenance, and Thatch’s idea of coffee is so bad that even my piggies wouldn’t want it.”
"I will.” Sammie giggles as Thatcher huffs and tugs her back to his side. “Love you, Joey."
"Love you too, Sam I Am."
I pull my phone out of my pocket and use the flashlight to illuminate my path. I've walked this trail so many times that I don't really need it, but it doesn't hurt to avoid roots and rocks.
I'm almost home when a twig snaps behind me.
My senses immediately go on high alert. I slow my breathing and try to find my center, like Boomer taught me, as I take each deliberate step from here on out.
I hear footsteps behind me and dodge out of the way right as an arm swipes out to grab me. The scent of sweat and stale cigarettes permeates the air as he closes in on me; it makes my nose scrunch in disgust as memories of my father try to fight their way to the surface.
Spinning, I drop my phone, flashlight up.
A tall man looms in the shadows. He’s wearing black from head to toe, a baseball hat slung low.
Rage floods my veins as he stalks closer to me, both at his boldness and my lack of awareness for missing someone so large.
He should’ve stuck out like a sore thumb, but he’s managed to evade me.
For weeks, I was losing my mind, thinking someone was there but never being able to catch anyone.
"I fucking warned you.
“You. Are. Mine.
“Nobody gets to touch you," he growls out in an attempt to scare me.
All it does is piss me off even more. "The only person I belong to is myself. I don't know who the fuck you are, but I really hope you're smart enough to leave me the fuck alone."
I get in my fighting stance, which makes him laugh. I don't know how long he's been stalking me, but if he were any good at it, he should know by now that I can handle myself.
Taking in a deep breath, I slowly exhale as I find my center; it releases enough of my anger so I can keep my wits about me and fight off my childhood memories that are dying to break free.
"Look how cute you are thinking you can fight me."
Before I can reply, he strikes. I dodge his first two attempts, but his third swing clips my chin, making me stumble back. I trip over a damn root, and he pounces.
He's straddling me, trying to subdue my hands, but I'm not having it. I strike him hard and fast, breaking his nose. Satisfaction fills my veins.
The dumbass instantly puts his hands on his face, which gives me my opening. I jab him hard in the ribs, making him shift on top of me. I then buck my hips, which sends him toppling to the ground.
Realizing he's at a disadvantage, he reaches into his coat and pulls out a pistol. I tuck and roll as he aims it at me and fires a shot. It barely makes a noise because of the silencer.
I know I should be panicking, but my muscle memory has kicked in, and I’m trusting my body to guide me safely through this encounter.
I reach into my boot and pull out the tactical knife Boomer gave me.
I slash through the air, slicing his hand, which makes him drop his gun.
We struggle for it, but I don't get there in time.
Needing to keep the barrel away from me, I hop on his back and drive my knife into his shoulder.
His howl of pain rings through the night air, but he still has his gun and aims it over his shoulder at my head.
I duck before he can get me, but my hair shifts as the bullet whizzes past.
Knife in hand, and with my hips pinning him to the ground, I reach around and guide my blade across his throat. Warmth spreads through my fingers as my perpetrator frantically tries to stop the bleeding.
It's not even thirty seconds before the last gurgled breath spills from his lips. My own panting breaths fill the otherwise silent night air.
With a sigh of relief, I push off the man and flop on my back as I try to regulate my breathing. Once I'm calm and my demons are at bay, I pick up my phone and examine the guy.
I recognize him from campus but have no idea what his name is. I find his wallet and look for his driver's license. A quick online search has several police reports pop up—stalking and assault charges that progressively got worse until he set his sights on me.
Looks like I did the world a favor ridding it of this piece of shit. If only he had been smarter and listened.
Closing out of the screen, I pull up Nana's contact.
The phone rings a few times before she answers. "What's wrong, Jolene?"
"Can you bring the quad down the path? I'll explain when you get here, but let's just say the piggies are going to be fed well tonight."
Pride and exhaustion fight for dominance as my mind replays my encounter. I may be walking away with my life tonight, but it’s been an eye-opening reminder that while I am capable, I can never let my guard down.