Chapter Thirty-Two Sage
Chapter Thirty-Two
Sage
My heart pounds rhythmically against my chest while I wait for Travis to fall asleep.
I really didn’t think I would have another opportunity—or need—to drug Travis, but here we are.
I spent all day sitting across from him, thinking about ways to get out of here.
Thank God for the cannabutter I had stored in the fridge.
Weed has never let me down before. Thank you to the weed gods.
I consider lighting a celebratory joint in their honor, but then I remember I’m essentially staging a prison break. Probably not the time to get high-fived by Bob Marley’s ghost.
I feel Travis’s body going limp behind me, and I lift the arm he zip-tied to him just to test it. He’s out cold. Tiny snores signal that it’s time to get a move on.
I turn around, moving as cautiously as I can. I don’t know how long he’s going to be out, but he had quite a lot of weed in his soup. After all, he ate mine too. That was surprisingly easy. I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop now.
Looking at him sleeping, I almost regret what I’m about to do.
I’ve worked so hard to get Travis to like me.
I’ve spent countless hours fantasizing about our future together, and the idea of not having him in my life anymore is heartbreaking.
But I know now that I can’t fix him. I can’t shape him into some vigilante hero going after sex offenders and child predators.
He’s going to target whoever the hell he wants to, and I’ll have to sit by knowing he’s attacking innocent people. I just can’t do that.
I hold my breath as I reach across his sleeping body for the pocketknife he keeps on his nightstand.
He shuffles a little under me, and my entire body stiffens.
The moment he wakes up and sees me trying to free myself, it’s going to be over for me.
If I can’t get out of this now, Travis is going to have no choice but to end my life.
He smacks his lips a couple of times, and a loud snore follows. I almost let out a sigh of relief, but I’m not done yet. There’s time for that later.
My hand wraps around the cold metal of the knife, and I flick it open, promptly slicing at the plastic around my wrist to free myself. Step two of my plan is now complete. Travis is asleep, and I’m not bound to him. Now all I have to do is leave.
It’s surprisingly hard. Even with everything I know about Travis, walking out of here and knowing it’ll be the last time I ever see him is difficult.
He’s not who I thought he was, but that doesn’t take away the love I have for him.
Leaving him now is what’s best for us both.
It’s probably my only chance at survival, anyway.
The mattress creaks ever so softly as my weight shifts on it. Of course, now the bed decides to develop a Broadway-level sound system. I half expect it to start narrating my escape like a dramatic podcast—“And then she froze, heart thundering, mattress groaning like a haunted cello . . .”
I never noticed the sound before, but now it seems to blast and echo through the room. I silently curse under my breath. Thankfully, Travis still doesn’t wake up.
I tiptoe to the bedroom door and open it just enough to slink out. I don’t close it behind me for fear of the clicking noise it’ll make. Besides, if Travis is going to wake up, I want to be able to hear it and make a run for it before he finds me.
My phone and laptop are still on the kitchen island. I grab my phone, sacrificing my laptop for the time being. I’m going to have to travel light if I’m going to be quick about it.
I load up my backpack with a couple of changes of clothes and quickly make my way to the front door. I close it behind me and stand in place for a few moments, contemplating whether or not I should go back.
It would be easy to cut the zip tie on Travis’s wrist and reapply new ones, pretending like none of this ever happened.
Maybe I can even play stupid in the morning when he’s mad about me drugging him and make it seem like I mixed up the butter.
Someday it can be a funny story we laugh about with our children.
A bitter taste grows in my mouth as I think about the potential future we had together. It’s just not the same. Can I really envision my life with someone who kills innocent people? Would I want someone like that raising children with me?
I take off running. I need to get out of here before Travis wakes up.
At Travis’s house, I rarely have a signal on my phone when I’m not connected to the Wi-Fi.
Because of my searches, Travis has disabled the Wi-Fi in the house entirely.
I need to figure out what to do, and a large part of that might involve buying some kind of bus ticket out of here.
At the very least, I need to be able to see their schedules.
Luckily for me, Ryan’s house has Wi-Fi, and I know the password. So I head there. I know I can’t stay long because it might be the first place Travis looks for me, but all I need to do are some quick searches before getting the hell out.
As I’m running there, the cabin in sight, my phone vibrates in my pocket, and I stop to look at it. It’s just some Instagram notification, but I have a signal where I am.
I could call the police right now. All this could be over, and I would guarantee myself being able to spare Nicole from Travis’s wrath.
I wouldn’t have to run away and hide for the rest of my life.
Everything I know is online. My entire job, my livelihood, is based on me presenting myself on social media.
If Travis wants, he can follow me. If Eli was able to do it on his own, someone like Travis, with all the means in the world, can make my life a living hell. I’ll never be able to get away from him.
I stare down at the keypad on my phone with 911 typed in. All I have to do is press the green dial button and at the very least an officer will be sent out for a suspicious call. I just can’t bring myself to do it.
“Fuck,” I whisper as I shake my head. I clench my fists at my sides and stuff my phone back in my pocket. “I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do anymore.”
Even the idea of turning Travis in makes my heart break. I just can’t do it. The only thing I can do is leave and hope like hell he doesn’t come searching for me.
It’s freezing, and I’m starving. With any luck, he is still knocked out cold in bed. I should have at least an hour to eat a sandwich and buy a ticket out of Lake Lure.
I jog to Ryan’s front door and type the code into the lockbox to get the key. When I open the door and flip on the light, I freeze in place and look around with my mouth hanging open. The entire place looks like it’s been ransacked. It looks like somebody came just to rip everything apart.
Pillows in the living room are tossed around, ripped open, with their stuffing all over the carpet.
Glass vases are shattered, with fake flowers strewn around, their petals all ripped off.
Books on the shelves have been tossed around, with pages ripped from the spines.
Even the TV in the center of the room has been smashed with some kind of blunt object.
And that’s just the living room. I can’t even imagine what the rest of the house must look like.
Someone was here recently, and I don’t know if they’re still here.
Walking in any farther is putting myself in danger, but stepping out that front door right now is too.
I could go back to Travis. After all, whoever did this to Ryan’s cabin could still be roaming the woods if they’re not still here.
I briefly wonder if that could have anything to do with the person digging into Travis, but I decide I have bigger things to worry about.
Walking around alone at night with some kind of crazed lunatic is even more dangerous than lying in bed with Travis.
Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.
I cautiously step forward and look around with a tight feeling in my throat. My nerves are frayed and on edge as I reach for Travis’s pocketknife to pull it out. I’ve never attacked anyone before, and if it comes down to it, I doubt I’ll fare well, but maybe I can scare someone away.
I approach the kitchen and look around to see dishes shattered all along the tile floor, with cabinet doors hanging from their hinges. Whoever was here tore the place apart recklessly, just to break it all. It doesn’t even look like they took anything.
Footsteps behind me catch my attention, and I whip around with the knife pointed in front of me. My heart drops when I see Ryan standing in the hallway with a pistol aimed right at me.
For a second I wonder if I should be relieved.
He is the homeowner, after all. Maybe he just arrived and came in to find his home like this and thinks it’s my fault.
But then I remember he’s supposed to be out of town for another week.
A twisted smile forms on his lips, and my heart drops to my stomach.
“What, did you forget your pepper spray?” Ryan asks as he points to the knife with his gun. He inches closer and steps into the light so I can see all of him. There’s blood speckling his hands, no doubt from the glass shards that flew through the air when he broke everything in his home.
He looks me up and down, licking his lips as he takes me in.
I shudder under his gaze, wishing I could be anywhere else.
Running away doesn’t seem like an option when someone has a gun pointed at you.
I’m all too aware of my hand trembling in front of me as I hold the knife up and try to look scary.
“What does Travis have that I don’t?” he asks when he’s only a few feet away from me.
He points to the knife with his gun and gestures for me to drop it.
I hesitate for a moment, but I do as he says.
Even though every part of my body tells me to fight back, my brain says I must comply.
It might be my only way of getting out of this.
I don’t know how to answer his question to pacify him. Travis has everything while Ryan has nothing, but saying that would make it only worse.
“Travis took something from me. Does the name Amelia ring a bell to you?”
I search my brain and come up with nothing. Though, knowing what Travis does, I can imagine exactly what Ryan means.
“Look, I don’t know—”
“Amelia was my girlfriend. My soon-to-be fiancée, actually. Travis killed her before I had a chance to propose.” He steps forward with a wicked grin on his face.
“I’ve been waiting a long time to get revenge on him.
At first I just wanted to send him to jail, but then I noticed the interest he took in you.
So now I want him to suffer more than being locked up.
He took something from me, and it’s my turn to take something from him. ”
Ryan steps close enough that I can feel his breath against my skin. He points the gun at the side of my head and looks down at my body. Every hair on the back of my neck stands up straight, and I try to think of a way out of this but fail. Ryan wants revenge, and he is intent on getting it.
“But first we’re going to have a little fun.” He laughs as he looks me up and down again. “Take off your clothes.”
I briefly consider bluffing my way out with some weird performance art. You ever seen interpretive dance with a pocketknife? But I think better of it. Not the time to debut my talent for pirouetting under pressure.
A tear slips from my eye, and I slowly do as he says.