Chapter 4
DANE
Spinning around, Vanessa glares up at me, instinctively moving to put herself between me and Josie.
Brave little fox.
“We’re leaving,” she states with a boldness that is only somewhat undermined by the quiver in her voice.
“Oh?” Tilting my head to the side, I watch her, amusement tickling my chest when she jerks her chin up, terrified green eyes flashing with determination.
“Yes. And you aren’t going to stop us.”
“By all means.” I gesture to the hallway behind me. “Run, little fox.”
Her bravado falters for a second, her eyes darting between me and what she sees as her freedom. “I will.”
“Good.” Stepping forward, I lean down to whisper in her ear. “But if I catch you, I get to keep you. And once I have you, I will lay claim to every inch of your sweet little body. So run fast, little fox, and don’t look back.”
She steps to the side, her weight shifting from one foot to another, a runner debating on whether or not to steal second. “What’s the catch?”
Clever little fox. “No catch. I’ll even give you a head start.”
“What about Marjorie?”
I glance over at my niece who lifts a shoulder as if to say she tried her best. “Josie is welcome to go with you. If she wants. Do you want to run, Josie-Posie?”
“No, Uncle Dane.” She slides a worried gaze toward Vanessa. “Can’t you just stay, Vanessa? Please? It’s actually a lot of fun here and you could have all the time in the world to read if you want. And we always talked about how much fun it would be to live together! We could—”
“Josie.” I wait for my niece to look my way, and I have to swallow a laugh at the way her jaw firms with stubbornness. “If Vanessa wants to run, that’s up to her. Just like your decision to stay is up to you. Understood?”
Fire flashes in Josie’s eyes, but only for a moment before she sighs, her shoulders slumping forward. “Yes, Uncle Dane.”
“That’s settled, then.” Returning my gaze to the fierce Little girl in front of me, I let my lips curve. “Josie stays. But you are free to go. If you can make it to the main road before I catch you, that is.”
Vanessa shoots a pleading look over her shoulder, but Josie only shakes her head. “I’m not leaving. This is where I belong. With my family.”
“Clock’s ticking, little fox. Time to choose. Run or stay.”
She hesitates only a moment longer. “I’ll be back for you, Marjorie. I swear.”
With one last pained look for her friend, my babygirl takes off for the front door.
The chase is on.
Vanessa
Get to the car. Drive to town. Get help.
That desperate mantra plays over and over in my mind as I run, my sneakers pounding against the gravel of the long, winding driveway. I parked at the bottom of their drive, my car hidden behind some bushes so I wouldn’t alert them to my presence.
Clearly, I did a fantastic job of sneaking up on them.
But I can’t think about that now. Head down, I focus all my energy on running faster than I’ve ever run in my life. On running as if my life depends on it.
Because it does.
This time, I do risk a glance back, my heart slamming against my ribcage at the sight of my pursuer far closer behind me than he has any right to be. Like any good horror movie villain, he doesn’t run, but my short legs are no match for his long, determined strides.
A sob bubbles up in my chest, stealing precious air when it bursts free, and I force my legs to pump faster. But no matter how fast I run, I can hear him gaining ground.
The trees. They’re my only hope. Getting lost in the wilds of Colorado would surely be preferable to living the rest of my life as some fucked-up lumberjack’s baby captive.
No matter how hot that fucked-up lumberjack happens to be.
Taking a hard right, I race for the tree line, relief nearly bringing on another round of sobs when the darkness engulfs me. But I have to keep going, to either get to the road or find a safe place to hide for a bit until I can figure out a plan.
A giant tree, more than large enough to shield me from view, looms ahead of me. I duck behind it, dropping to the ground, my knees drawn up against my chest as I gasp for air.
Loudly. Too loudly. Each breath rings out like a gunshot in the woods, giving away my location to any predator—human or otherwise—who might be hunting me. Slapping a hand over my mouth, I force my breathing to quiet, slowly dragging air in through my nose.
The sound of cracking wood echoes in the otherwise quiet forest and I squeeze my eyes shut, swallowing the sob that threatens to give away my position.
Please be a squirrel. Or a bear. Or anything but him.
I count to ten, and when I don’t hear anything else, I risk opening my eyes, relief shaking my entire body when I find myself still alone.
But that won’t last long. Even if that ominous cracking sound wasn’t him, I’m not hidden well enough to stay where I am. It’s only a matter of time before he stumbles across me, or something gives away my position.
Moving as slowly as I can to avoid making any noise of my own, I rise up from where I’m crouched behind the tree, still making sure to breathe slowly through my nose. I give myself a moment to close my eyes tight again while I gather my courage.
And run.
With every pounding footstep, leaves and limbs crack beneath my weight, and I know there’s no way he can’t hear me running for my fucking life. But I can’t stop, can’t risk turning back now, so I head in the general direction of what I think is the road and pump my legs for all I’m worth.
I have no idea how long I run, all I know is that my lungs are once again on fire and my feet feel like someone has dipped them in lead. My vision blurs with tears, but I can’t give in. Can’t stop now.
I’m just about ready to give up, to let nature and the hot lumberjack have their way with me when I spot it. The bright-red paint of my rental car through the trees. That sight gives me a burst of energy, and I dig deep, pushing myself past what I think I can handle.
So close. So close. So fucking close.
A few feet from the tree line, something hard slams into me, knocking all the air from my lungs as I go flying toward the ground. But at the last minute, I’m rolled to the side, my body shielded from the unforgiving forest floor by something hard and warm.
“Got you, little fox.”
All at once, every bit of energy seems to drain from my body. The world spins around me, blackness closing in. I’m so tired, too tired to fight any longer, so I simply surrender, going limp in his arms as I let the darkness drag me under.
Vanessa
“Ford!”
The panicked roar of a man’s voice jolts me out of the peaceful void I’d managed to escape into for a few blessed minutes.
Not wanting to draw his attention to me, I keep my body limp and my eyes closed as I listen for clues as to where we are.
It’s cooler here than it was in the woods and his boots aren’t crunching over sticks and leaves, so I have to assume we’re back in their house.
So close. I was so fucking close. My chest aches with grief at the memory of my car nearly within arm’s reach and I have to fight back the tears burning behind my eyes.
“What the hell did you do to her, Dane?”
“Nothing! I tackled her and she just passed the fuck out.”
A string of rather impressive swear words fills the air. “Bring her to the back, I’ll check her over. But if she’s concussed, we’ll need to call someone. I don’t have the equipment to care for a brain injury.”
Hope unfurls in my chest, so big and bright it’s almost painful. Maybe this is my chance. Maybe if I play possum long enough, they’ll take me to a hospital.
Clinging to that hope, however far-fetched it may be, I continue to lay limply in his arms as he carries me through the house and lowers me to a bed of some sort with surprising tenderness.
“Did she hit her head when you tackled her?” The voice that I assume belongs to Ford, whoever that may be, is all business as gentle hands lift my head from the bed and press against my skull.
“No. I was careful with her, Ford, I swear.”
“Good,” Ford grunts. “I don’t feel any bumps, but I want to check her out just to be sure. We need to wake her up.”
A sharp, pungent odor fills my nostrils, and before I can remember I’m supposed to be playing dead I cough and yank my head away from the disgusting scent.
“Oh, thank god.” Dane’s voice is rough, almost like he’s holding back tears. But I know that can’t be right, and now I’m the one who’s worried I might actually have a concussion.
Remembering that’s what I’m supposed to be faking, I press a hand to my head and let out a low, pained moan. “Wh-what happened? My head is killing me.”
Ford shoots the man who calls himself my Daddy a glare before turning his attention back to me, his expression softening. “You had a bit of an accident, sweet girl. Do you remember if you hit your head when your Daddy caught you in the woods?”
“I–I don’t remember.”
“That’s okay, sweetheart. Uncle Ford is going to conduct some tests and we’ll go from there. I need you to keep your eyes open for me, can you do that?”
Sniffling, I nod, then wince for effect, earning Dane another sharp glare from—I assume—his brother. Picking up a small flashlight, Ford shines it in my eyes, then pulls it away again, relief flickering over his face.
“Pupils are reacting normally to light, which is a good sign. Can you tell me what today’s date is, Vanessa?”
I recite the wrong date, and Ford’s mouth dips down into a frown.
We run through a few more tests together, with me intentionally fucking each one up.
Shaking his head, Ford moves over to a long counter, where he picks up what looks like a walkie-talkie before turning back with a sympathetic smile.
“Your Daddy and I are going to step outside for a moment. You sit right there, little girl, and rest.” His gaze hardens as it flicks toward his brother. “Dane. A word.”
Frowning, Dane looks from me to Ford and back again. “Daddy will be right back, little fox. You just sit quietly and try not to jostle your head.”
I nod, then let out a little moan, clutching my head as if just that small movement has caused me immense pain.
Looking somewhat frantic, Dane lets himself be pulled out of the room.
When the door clicks shut behind them, I count to ten to make sure they aren’t planning to throw it open again to catch me doing something naughty.
Once I’m certain I’m safe, I jump down from the table and hurry over to the window. I can’t rely on these assholes to actually follow through with taking me to the hospital, so in the event they change their mind and try to treat me here, I need a backup plan.
Running my hands over the window frame, I search frantically for the locks, a relieved sob rising up inside me when the latches give easily at my touch. The window slides up without a sound, and I press my nose to the screen.
Maybe I should go ahead and make a run for it while he’s distracted. Even if they do take me to be treated for a concussion, there’s no guarantee that whoever they take me to won’t be part of their nefarious plans.
With a quick glance over my shoulder to ensure I’m not in danger of being caught again, I pop the screen out of the window and grip the frame, hauling myself up through the opening.
To freedom.