Chapter Two
It had been years since Blake had been in the woods behind the high school. Set between the gym’s parking lot and the old building that had housed a Kmart half a mile away, between the trees had become just another rite of passage for Seven Roads’ teens.
They couldn’t escape the boredom of small-town life; they could skip a few of their classes though.
Now Blake didn’t see how she had navigated the area as carefree as she had back then. A few feet in and a tree root nearly took her down. She caught her balance halfway through the fall. Her dress wasn’t as fortunate. She heard the tear but didn’t stop to investigate.
Instead, she was all eyes on Ryan Reed.
“Stop running,” she yelled out to him, rounding another tree he had tried to put between them.
Ryan had never been the fastest kid in school, but as an adult, he had seemed to inherit a talent for being slippery. He wove through the underbrush and oaks like the snake that he was.
Too bad for him that Blake had made a career out of having faster reflexes than most of the people she ended up chasing.
Instead of running behind him directly, Blake cut to the right and picked up speed. If her memory wasn’t that far off, there was a slight hill that sloped up before sliding down into a small clearing. She could make up some space and cut him off.
So Blake followed her plan with total dedication. She didn’t stop when she got tripped up again, she didn’t stop when a low-hanging branch scratched at her face, and she didn’t let up even an inch when her legs burned as she ran up and then down the small hill into the clearing.
She only stopped once she realized her plan had worked.
Ryan was holding his side and gasping. He broke through the tree line like he’d run a marathon. Blake closed the distance between them before Ryan realized she had cut him off.
His eyes widened.
Blake held out her hands in a stop motion.
“What are you—”
Before she could finish the question, Ryan did something Blake truly didn’t expect.
He lunged at her.
Years of experience sang to her muscles. Instead of trying to avoid the hit, her legs and core braced themselves as her hands worked in sync while serving two different purposes.
Blake’s left hand jabbed up in time to grab his wrist opposite her. Her right hand turned into a fist.
A fist that was angry.
It connected against the unsuspecting Ryan with enough power to throw him off his game.
He stumbled to the side, only held up by her grip.
Blake wasn’t a petite woman, but Ryan still had some height on her.
He lost his footing for a moment only to turn in the next and strike out with his free hand again.
It wasn’t his fist that hit Blake but his elbow.
She cried out as pain exploded in her eyebrow.
Instead of trying to keep up with him, Blake decided to create some distance. She let go of his wrist and pivoted away.
“Stop this,” she ground out.
Blake took a step back to try to meet his eye.
Ryan had both his fists up. Blake had only one ready. She knew what she was capable of and that she could do some damage. But that didn’t mean she wanted to go against him again.
“What are you doing?” she tried. “Why did you run?”
Ryan’s face was turning red. He shook his head with obvious aggression.
“Just tell me where it is,” he spat. “I know you’re—you’re working on it.”
Blake felt herself waver.
“What?” she asked, confused.
A guttural noise tore itself out of his throat. With the sound, Ryan moved again.
Blake was ready.
She let his punch go as far as it could before grabbing onto his arm with both of her hands. Then she turned into him, her back against his chest, and used his momentum and her balance to do something her previous trainer would have been proud to see.
Ryan didn’t have time to stop the flip. Blake felt his full weight for a split second while she pushed up as he went over her.
If they had been on hardwood or tile, she was sure she would have heard a loud thud. Instead all she heard was Ryan’s breath being knocked out of his chest. He wheezed. Then he was coughing on the ground, staring up at the sky.
Blake wasn’t through.
She took two steps over to him and grabbed his arm for the third time since they had come into the woods. It wasn’t easy to do in her dress, but she managed to flip him over. He kept coughing as she pinned his arm behind his back.
She wished she had her handcuffs.
Ryan started squirming. Blake thumped the back of his head. Then she winced as something stung her eye. It took a second to realize what it was.
She cussed low.
“You busted my eyebrow, Ryan. You better have a dang good reason for—”
Footsteps were coming fast from the tree line.
Blake tightened her grip on Ryan’s arm.
Someone had followed them. Had Ryan not been alone?
Suddenly Blake regretted running blindly after the man. She should have been more observant to who was around them.
Worse came to worst she could run toward the old Kmart and to the main road for help. Or hide if needed.
Or she could fight some more.
Blake was still trying to figure out her plan of fight, flight, or find a tree to hide in, when the new potential opponent entered the clearing.
She recognized him.
“Shirt Guy,” she said, the first thought coming out of her mouth.
Sure enough, it was the tall good-looking man from the gym’s lobby. He even still had the shirt he’d let her borrow in his hand.
It was close to the badge on his hip.
He must have been eyeing her while Blake eyed it.
“You’re the sheriff,” she realized.
The man was breathing hard but not out of breath. He nodded, then motioned to Ryan.
“And this is...?”
Ryan started squirming again. Blake shifted her weight to stop him.
“A victim,” he yelled.
Blake snorted. She looked down at the back of his head.
“Ryan, you’ve never been a victim a day in your life.”
“You—you don’t have any right to be doing this to me,” he wailed back. “Now get off before I really get mad.”
Blake had no intention of doing that at all, but the sheriff cleared his throat. He had gotten closer. Blake had to crane her head up to see into his eyes.
“I might not know what’s happening, but I think I can take it from here.” That deep baritone sure was nice.
Still, she hesitated and glanced down at his badge.
The pain in her eyebrow disappeared. The ache in her chest that had started six months ago flared to life.
Then she relented.
THE MAN SPENT their walk back to the parking lot trying his best to damn the woman walking behind them. It wasn’t until Deputy Price met them at the tree line that he shut up. And that might have had more to do with Price’s reaction.
In the middle of asking what was going on, he stopped himself and openly stared at the woman.
“Blake?”
Liam turned in time to see the woman smile briefly.
“Hey there, Price. It’s been a minute. How are you?”
Price’s eyes were wide, his excitement showing with ease.
“What do you mean, ‘how are you?’ What’s going on? Who is—” Price stopped himself again. Now he was focusing on the man in cuffs. Whoever he was, Price seemed to recognize him. But only after seeing the woman.
His excitement dulled.
“What are you doing here?” he asked the man.
The chatterbox suddenly didn’t like talking. He didn’t answer.
Liam was annoyed at the lack of context he, the sheriff, had in this situation.
He also didn’t like the wandering eyes of the people still in the parking lot. He motioned to Price’s cruiser.
“I want to know what’s going on, but let’s go to the station,” he said.
“Am I under arrest?” The man broke his silence.
Liam looked over his shoulder at Blake. Blood was coming down the side of her face.
Her dress was torn at its side. There was a scratch or two along her left arm.
She might have had the upper hand when he had shown up, but clearly the man had gotten a few licks in.
He tried to keep his anger out of his response.
“I strongly suggest we all head that way to talk.”
It wasn’t technically an answer, but it did the trick.
The man hushed. Price took charge of him. Then he looked to Blake.
“Do you want to ride shotgun? Or—”
Liam cut him off.
“She can ride with me. You go on ahead.” Liam turned around to face her straight on. She didn’t look like she was going to argue. Instead, she pulled her cell phone out.
“Let me call my ride first.”
Liam gave her some space to make her call and tried his best to keep himself close enough so he was blocking her from the onlookers still meandering through the parking lot. They were lucky that most of the cars were closer to the gym.
“Okay, I’m ready,” she said after a minute or so. “I guess we’re heading to the sheriff’s truck.”
She started to walk in its direction, but Liam caught her hand.
He felt her tension like a glass of ice water to the system.
He let go immediately.
Then he pulled the shirt he had slung over his shoulder off and handed it to her.
Again.
“I think it might be for the best if you just left this on for now.”
He motioned to the tear in her dress but made sure to keep his eyes on her.
She didn’t need any further explanation.
“I’m not sure if this is a lucky or unlucky shirt,” she said, “but thank you again.”
Her smile was strained, but she put the shirt on with no complaint.
Liam nodded. They started their walk to his truck. The few bystanders left made no attempt to pretend they weren’t staring.
He noticed it wasn’t at him though.
All eyes followed to Blake like moths to a red-haired flame.
Once again, Liam wondered who the heck she was.