Chapter 2
Awave of apprehension pulls me forward, fog drifting low along the path as I pick up my pace. The burn in my throat doesn’t ease. I swallow, but the lump clings like stretchy dough, dragging in slow, stubborn strands that refuse to let up.
Don’t panic.
It’s too soon to think of the worse.
The more I tell myself that, the more my thoughts turn on me, my steps growing uneven as I push deeper between the trees. He can’t be cheating. I refuse to believe it.
Branches snag at my sleeves as I push through, the scrape sharp enough to make my pulse hitch. I keep moving. Faster. Following the voices until two silhouettes emerge between the scraggly branches.
I jolt mid-step. Freeze.
They lean into each other, bodies melded together in the pale wash of moonlight. His jacket comes into view first. Pine green. The puffer I bought him last Christmas.
The matching one still hangs in my closet, forgotten after I shoved everything else into a garbage bag that’s still sitting in my car where I left it.
My eyes prickle. My vision skews.
I slap a hand over my mouth, stifling the sound before it can break free. My nose flares, warm breath gathering against my palm.
Shuddering, I look back to the woman clinging to his chest. Her head tips toward him, strands of teal threading through her dark hair.
I don’t recognize her.
Her breathy laugh breaks the quiet and lodges deep in my chest, and I know with a sick certainty it will follow me long after today.
One arm slides up, locking around his neck. Both of them blur, their outlines slipping out of focus as the sting builds behind my eyes.
My stomach revolts, and I’m grateful for its emptiness as I watch Dax lean in, closing the distance until their lips hover a breath apart.
I jerk my gaze away. Heat tracks down my cheeks.
There’s no denying it this time.
My knees threaten to give, and I sag against the nearest tree, staring at the wilted grass and scattered sticks at my feet, toes curling inside my boots. Nausea churns in my stomach.
Needles prick at my temples, driving deeper until I grimace; a breath tears out of me, leaving me exposed in the quiet.
I still.
I can’t bring myself to straighten and face them.
My legs tremble, yet my feet stay rooted, something burrowing into the soles of my boots, anchoring me there. As if I’ve grown into the ground itself.
Nails bite into my palm.
Get up.
Don’t be so pathetic. Get up. Do something.
Breathless, I force my eyes open and grit my teeth, a sour lilt tugging at the corners of my mouth as I ready myself. There’s no avoiding this. I have no other choice but to face it, no matter how much it’s making my stomach churn.
I snap upright, a white-hot burst slicing through my vision, the thread of humiliation sewing itself into every part of my chest, heart, and mind.
Cheek caught between my teeth, fists clenching at my side, I move without thinking. If I hesitate, I’ll fall apart; if I stop, I won’t have anywhere left to go back to. I can’t go back home. I won’t.
My steps falter once, then fall back into rhythm. I don’t bother softening the sound, wanting to give them a chance to pull apart by the time I reach them.
But the moment I look up, cold crashes over me, my limbs locking where I stand. They’re gone.
What—
How?
They can’t be gone.
My heartbeat patters out. The low churn of wind dulling in my ears as it moves through the branches, a twig snapping somewhere off to my right. I whip around, a pulse jumping in my throat. Black specks eclipse my vision. There’s not a flicker of movement in sight.
A thin crawl traces the back of my neck. I jerk, slapping it away, my shoulders hitching hard as I break into a run.
Leaves rush overhead, the winds nipping at me, pushing and pulling until my footing slips, the ground tilting. My pupils blow wide as I lurch forward, a strangled shout ripping out of me as I tumble down the sharp incline.
Something sharp jabs my shoulders, then my back before a cracking jolt slams through my head. A splintered gasp leaves from my throat, my lungs filling with dirt and debris before the world collapses into complete darkness.
My fingers twitch against damp soil. The feeling is distant at first, like my body belongs to someone else. My head throbs. I try to move, but nothing follows. A slurred cry slips from my throat.
When I force my eyes open, I wince, my spine arching as pain flares to life. I’m lying in a ditch, stagnant water pooled around me, seeping into my hair and clothes. Mud cakes my palms as I push myself upright, air hissing between my teeth.
Blinking hard, I turn my head, easing the strain in my neck. Off to the side, my phone and car keys lie scattered among the gravel, just inches from the shallow puddle I fell into.
Pain lances through my ribs as I lean on them, my nose wrinkling. I tip my head back and squint toward the dark opening above.
Steeper than I’d expected. But not too bad.
I glance down at myself. My shirt is streaked with mud and grime, the tears in my fishnets pulled wider from the fall. I could’ve really used pockets right about now.
Muttering a quick prayer under my breath, I toss the phone and keys up over the edge. They land somewhere above with a soft, distant thud.
Great.
Now I just need to haul myself out.
That shouldn’t be too difficult.
Moisture slicks my palms—sweat or puddle water, I can’t tell—and I wipe them against my shirt, rolling my shoulders back as I take in the narrow stretch of sky. My eyes catch on a rooted branch near the edge, half lifted from the ground. Something I can latch onto.
Alright…good. I can do this.
I back up, keeping my eyes fixed on top until my heels dig into the packed dirt behind me. Bending low, I brace myself.
The rooted branch juts from the edge. I lunge for it and haul myself up, muscles knotting with the effort. Teeth grit as I pull, dragging myself higher.
Something shifts above me.
My eyes snap up.
Muddied boots step into view at the edge, inches from my blanching knuckles. Not Dax’s.
A scream rips out of me, scraping raw in my throat.
My fingers slip. My stomach drops as I prepare for another fall. And then—
A large hand clamps around mine.
Firm. Steady.
A lifeline. I cling to it, eyes squeezed shut as I silently plead for help. Every sense sharpens beneath his grip, cold threading up my arm and cinching around my chest.
He could drop me. Send me crashing back down.
Or worse. Much worse.
Pain breaks out across my ribs as I reluctantly peel my eyes open, locking onto a pair of deep-set brown eyes, nearly black beneath the shadow of his thick blond hair.
Loose strands fall across his forehead in a tousled mess, softening the severity of his features.
Too easy, too unguarded for someone who should feel dangerous.
The line between his brows falters, his eyes rounding with concern as he takes me in. My shoulders jerk with silent shock as I hang there, stalled at the edge of the ditch, my feet slightly skidding along the dirt.
He adjusts, then pulls me the rest of the way up, his hand lingering on my arm. “Easy now…you’re shaking.”
His gaze stays on me, unreadable. Never shifting away.
I should feel steadier. Safer, even.
I don’t.
My throat swells. The moment my feet hit solid ground again, I stumble back, arms swinging out on instinct. My thoughts scatter as I scan my surroundings.
The woods go abruptly still, the branches no longer swaying in the breeze. Everything dulls into a thick, muted hush.
A violent shiver tears through me, and I wrap my arms around myself to ward off the chill. Forcing my gaze back to the stranger, I blink hard to clear the cloudiness from my vision and grind my feet into the ground to keep myself from trembling.
He steps back immediately, hands raised, backing off like I’m the dangerous one.
“It’s okay,” he says, his voice rough around the edges, though there’s something unexpectedly boyish beneath it.
I’m too on edge to trust the softness in it, my gaze darting over him as he slowly relaxes his stance. “You’re okay. I’m just trying to help.”
My tongue grows thick in my mouth. I try to calm myself, but the tension stays knotted in my shoulders and throat.
His eyes flicker with something that almost looks like disappointment as his hands ease to his sides. Even then, he doesn’t come any closer. “It’s not safe for anyone to be out here this late.”
My body stiffens as I attempt to inch sideways, avoiding the ditch I fell in, both of us locked in a standoff. I can always shout for help if I need to.
Except I’m not even sure if Dax is still here.
Acid scorches my throat. “I’m here with my boyfriend,” I find myself saying suddenly. It’s not a complete lie. “H-he’s somewhere back there waiting. He’ll worry if I don’t get back.”
I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek to keep the stutter out of my voice, the sharp taste of copper filling my mouth. His eyebrows quirk.
I’m already turning around, careful not to break into a sprint or look like I’ve been spooked when he calls out to me again. I almost ignore it, pretend it slipped past me when he says, “What about your things? These your car keys?”
I stop in my tracks. Cold sweat breaks out down my spine. Hesitantly, I crane my neck just enough to find him leaning toward my belongings.
He lifts up my keys; the jingle cuts through the abnormally quiet air.
I swallow against what feels like barbed wire in my throat, digging at a hangnail on my finger as I drag myself back toward him, forcing my face blank. I cast a quick glance toward my phone, discarded on the pile of leaves beside him.
Once it’s back in my hands, I’ll feel much more relieved. He doesn’t move to grab it, instead focusing on the keys, the metal clattering between his fingers as he turns them over, his attention finally settling on me.
I stop a couple steps away, close enough that he could reach for me just as easily as I could the keys.
My muscles tense as I lower myself beside him and reach for the keys, still biting the inside of my cheek as if that’ll keep the tremor from lacing my arms and legs.
His gaze lingers too intently on mine, sending another shiver of apprehension down my spine. I’m kicking myself for reacting so obviously in front of him, unable to blink right under any form of male scrutiny.
“Are you lost?” he asks, breaking the silence as he places the keys in my open palm.
The contact lasts barely a second, yet my stomach still coils when I squint up at him, caught in his dark irises for a beat.
Moonlight slips through his pale hair, turning the flaxen strands faintly silver against the dark canopy of trees. Up close, his skin looks luminous, holding my attention a moment too long.
I’m painfully aware of my own appearance, wondering if I overreacted and now look completely insane in front of someone who’s done nothing but help me.
“I’m sorry,” I find myself saying, reaching off to the side for my phone.
I wait for him to lunge for it, to finally prove my fear right, but it doesn’t happen. He clears his throat, my fingers curling around it before the faint blue light flashes across my face. Still no connection. I shove down the panic rising through me as I spring to my feet.
“You said your boyfriend’s waiting for you?” His gaze drifts toward the neighboring trees, as if listening for something deeper in the woods before returning to me. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”
He searches my face like he isn’t sure I’m in the right state of mind to absorb his words.
My lips throb where they are jammed against my teeth, my stomach turning sour from the intensifying taste of copper.
I eye the worn canvas jacket hanging loose on his frame, my gaze sliding down to his bare wrists.
No sign of a badge or wristband that indicates he’s part of the trail crew, though I don’t recall seeing one on Dax earlier either.
At the thought of him, my eyes sting, dejection clawing in my chest as I come to terms with everything. Forgetting I’m on the verge of tears in front of this stranger, my thoughts drift somewhere beyond reach, swallowed by dead leaves and brittle branches.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he reassures me, his voice soothing in a way that it shouldn’t be. “Let me help.”
A chilled droplet of rain plops onto my head before either of us speaks another word, followed by another until it quickly swells into a downpour. Rain hammers through the trees, drenching my clothes. I flinch, pushing wet hair from my face.
“Shit,” I mutter, but my voice is drowned out by the relentless roar around us. I lift my arms to shield myself from the onslaught, barely noticing him moving until his arm suddenly circles around me, pulling me against his side as he steers us out of the open.
A sharp jolt coils low in my stomach, unsettling in a way I can’t explain.
I gnash my teeth and dip my chin toward my chest as if that’s enough to bury the reaction, but the closer he draws me against him, the more my skin prickles against the freezing rain.
Pull back. Tell him you’re okay and leave.
But I can’t bring myself to talk. The words are already too tangled in my head to form anything coherent aloud.
Our bodies stay pressed together as we weave between the woods, zigzagging past mossy stumps and uprooted branches. My thoughts churn into a muddy mess, not unlike the murky puddles we splash through.
At this point, did I really have another option besides accepting his help? Rainwater streams down my skin as I force my aching legs to keep pace with him.
I can’t spend the entire night stranded beside my car in soaking wet clothes without any signal. I have nobody left to call anyway.
So despite every instinct clamoring inside me, there’s only one direction left to go.
Forward.