CHAPTER 1 TESS #3
As I passed the big barn, something caught my eye. There, in the soft dirt at the edge of the gravel drive. A paw print, as big as my outspread hand. It looked fresh.
Geezus-squeezus. That had to be a wolf or big cat.
An uneasy tingle crawled up the back of my neck, and I stared at the print.
This was much, much bigger than any wolf I'd ever imagined. What did I really know about wolves, though? Maybe they were actually that big. Fantastic. If the crash didn’t kill me, the wildlife would. Cool, cool.
I made my way up the porch steps, each lift of my leg feeling like I was wading through wet concrete. My head swam, my vision blurring at the edges. When I finally reached the door, it took a monumental effort to raise my fist and knock.
No answer.
I tried again, a thread of desperation creeping into my knocks. Still nothing.
Fighting down the rising sense of panic, I limped back down the stairs and around the side of the house. The trucks parked nearby gave me hope. There had to be someone around. Maybe in the bunkhouse I could see jutting out behind the barn.
But when I reached it, the bunkhouse was dark and still.
I peered through the windows, trying to make out any signs of life, but there were none.
It was empty. There was, however, a big garbage can.
I opened it to find a bag of what looked like kitchen garbage barely tied.
I pulled it out and quickly buried the license plate in it.
If someone went looking for it at their dump it would be a needle in a haystack. God bless poorly secured trash.
Pain arched up through my knee and despair rose up, threatening to choke me as I looked around.
I'd come all this way, dragged my battered body through the night, only to find a ghost ranch.
What was I supposed to do now? Curl up on the porch like a stray dog and hope someone came home before I bled out or froze to death? Yep. That sounds about on-brand.
I turned in a slow circle, trying to think past the pain and exhaustion clouding my mind. The barn. It was a long shot, but maybe there'd be a place to rest there. Or at least something I could use as a blanket. Anything was better than staying out in the open like a sitting duck.
My knee nearly gave out as I staggered towards the big structure. I caught myself on the rough wood of the door, biting down on a yelp of pain. Just a little further. Just a few more steps.
The barn smelled of hay and horse and leather, none of which were comforting. Horses were so scary. They watched me as I limped past their stalls, too tired to even say hi to them. Please don’t murder me, majestic beasts.
In the back corner, I found what I was looking for. A pile of fresh hay, gleaming like gold in the faint light filtering through the dusty windows. It might as well have been a feather bed at the Ritz for how inviting it looked.
I barely managed to shrug off my bag before my legs gave out entirely. I crumpled into the hay, the stalks crackling and sighing beneath my weight. And finally, finally, I let go.
Great, heaving sobs tore their way out of my chest, so violent they left me gasping. I curled into myself, arms wrapped around my ribs like I could hold my breaking pieces together through sheer force of will. But there was no stopping the tide now.
I cried for the girl I'd been, always running, always afraid. I cried for the woman I'd become, stumbling blindly from one bad choice to the next. And I cried for the little girl in me that still believed, despite it all, in happy endings. What an idiot.
"You're so stupid," I whispered to myself, the words hitching and catching on the razors in my throat. "So stupid for getting involved with him. Now look at you. Your life is ruined. You have nothing." Congratulations. Official rock bottom unlocked.
The truth of it was like a punch to the solar plexus, leaving me breathless and aching.
I'd thought I was building a life in Vegas.
Thought I was getting it right this time.
But all I'd done was paint a prettier facade over the same rotting foundation.
And now it had all come crumbling down, just like it always did.
My mother's face swam before me, tired and lined and desperate. Baby, she'd said, that night we left Ray. I know what it's like to love someone so much you can't see straight. But you've gotta be stronger than that. You've gotta love yourself more.
A bitter laugh scraped its way out of my chest, half sob and half snarl. She'd been right, in the end. I hadn't been strong. Hadn't loved myself enough to walk away when I first saw the signs. And now I was paying the price.
If Lance found me now, beaten and broken and alone, he'd kill me.
Or worse, he'd drag me back. Back to that gilded cage with its pretty bars and poisoned air.
Back to a life of fear and manipulation and carefully curated bruises.
"Should've left Vegas sooner," I muttered, swiping at my salt-stained cheeks with trembling hands.
Should've left the first time he raised his voice, or the second time he made me feel small, or the third time he disguised a threat as a declaration of love.
But I hadn't, and this was my penance. This long, dark night and all the ones to follow. This was my life now, as barren and brutal as the land outside the barn walls.
Great job. Nailed it.
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