She’d also gone to the police and taken out a temporary restraining order but suspected a piece of paper wouldn’t keep Tommy from continuing his harassment. And she was right. Even nastier texts and emails followed.
Ultimately, Carlise had decided to leave town for a while. Maybe if she wasn’t around, Tommy would finally move on with his life. Forget all about her.
Thankfully, she had a job that she could do from anywhere. She translated books from French into English. She’d hated the language when she’d first started taking it in middle school, but eventually she learned to love it, realizing she had a natural affinity for speaking and writing French. And of course, the year she’d spent in France while in college was the best thing she could’ve done to really learn the language.
She’d kind of fallen into the translation gig. She’d seen a post on social media from a French author, wanting to know if someone would read an excerpt from her book and make sure she had the English right—she didn’t—and that had slowly turned into a career, translating books from French to English. She wouldn’t have minded translating the other way as well, but most translators converting text to French were native speakers.
She’d just downloaded a new manuscript, so she wouldn’t need the internet for a while, although eventually she’d have to log on and manage new requests for translations and check her email. Carlise had been a little reluctant to get online for the last few days, just in case Tommy could somehow track her. She knew it was highly unlikely, and Carlise didn’t think he was smart enough to figure out how to do such a thing, but she didn’t want to take any chances.
She just needed a break. She’d become reluctant to leave her apartment, nervous to go to the store . . . to go anywhere, really, for fear of running into him. After the tire incident, she was worried his threats would escalate, with Tommy taking his frustration and anger out on her in even more dangerous ways.
She wouldn’t put it past him to burn her entire building down with Carlise inside.
So she’d hit the road without a word to anyone but her mom, though she didn’t tell her where she was heading because, well . . . she didn’t know where she was going. She didn’t have a destination in mind, her only plan to get out of town and hunker down somewhere.
She’d left Cleveland before sunrise two days ago. And clearly, she should have given her plan more thought. She’d changed her direction more than once, first heading south, then meandering east, and finally north.
The problem was, she didn’t know if she’d be safe from Tommy anywhere.
And worse, the more she drove, the more she couldn’t help feeling like everything happening was somehow partly her fault. Which was crazy. All she wanted was to find a man who loved her as much as she loved him. Not someone who would fly off the handle for something stupid and hurt her.
This morning, she’d found herself in Maine, and Carlise suddenly felt as if she could breathe for the first time in weeks. Fully charmed by all the small towns on her route, she decided to find one with a hotel, maybe a cute downtown area she could explore, and make that her home base for a couple of weeks before heading back to Ohio. Hopeful that, by then, the whole Tommy mess would have gone away.
She’d happily taken various back roads, enjoying the serene forests and quiet roads . . . until she’d realized she hadn’t passed a sign or even any other cars for quite some time. She’d briefly consulted her phone, but cell service was sporadic at best in the heavily wooded area. Her GPS app was useless.
If that wasn’t bad enough, the weather had gotten nasty—fast. At first it was cold rain, which quickly turned into sleet. Now it was snowing so hard, Carlise couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of her vehicle.
She couldn’t go back the way she’d come because she knew there was nothing behind her for miles. She hadn’t passed a town in a good while—no restaurants, no gas stations. She’d just been driving around, attempting to find some sort of civilization. In desperation, she’d turned onto an access road of sorts—little more than a wide track, really—thinking surely it existed for a reason. Had to lead to maybe a village or even just some random houses.
Looking at the seat next to her, she grimaced. She had half a bottle of water, a Snickers bar, some trail mix, and two mini doughnuts, all left over from the last time she’d stopped for gas hours ago. Her sweet tooth had gotten the better of her, and she’d happily munched as she drove, not concerned about dinner or where she might next find something to eat.
Now here she was, lost somewhere in Maine, driving blindly through a snowstorm . . . and scared out of her mind. She’d messed up. Bad. At least she was wearing hiking boots and had a suitcase full of warm clothing in the cargo area of her CR-V. The vehicle was pretty good in most bad weather, but this storm was proving too much for the small SUV to handle.
As soon as she had that thought, a tree suddenly appeared in front of her.
The road must have curved, but thanks to the near-zero visibility, she hadn’t noticed. Instead, she’d driven straight into the woods.
Carlise slammed her foot on the brake instinctively, the car continuing to slide forward in the wet snow. Her front bumper hit the tree, and her body slammed forward. Carlise hit her head on the steering wheel hard enough to see stars.
“Crappity, crap, crap!” she muttered, taking a deep breath and putting a hand to her forehead. She wasn’t bleeding, thank goodness, but she probably had a huge bump on her head now. The car’s engine shut off when she hit the tree, and even though she had a feeling it would be useless, Carlise reached for the key in the ignition.
The usually reliable SUV didn’t start.
Closing her eyes, Carlise did her best not to cry. She was in big trouble here, and she knew it. It was getting dark outside, and she was lost. Not only that, but the wind had picked up, and the snow was blowing so hard, she knew the second she stepped away from her vehicle, she’d be hopelessly lost in the blinding whiteness.
Taking a deep breath, Carlise opened her eyes. She couldn’t stay here. She had to find somewhere to take shelter. She’d seen the rare cabin tucked into the trees as she’d driven along, hoping to come across some sort of town. None had looked occupied, and a couple seemed dilapidated . . . but hunkering down in an abandoned cabin was better than being buried in her car.
Carlise generally wasn’t a pessimistic kind of woman. She did what needed to be done, even if it was unpleasant . . . like breaking up with Tommy. Not wanting to remember that day—and how pissed he’d been—she unfastened her seat belt and turned to crawl into the back seat. She needed to get into her suitcase, put on as many layers of clothes as possible, then start walking.
By the time she was as ready as she was going to be, Carlise felt nauseous. Partly from the knock on the head she’d taken, but also because there was a good chance she wouldn’t find a cabin in which to wait out the storm. She might’ve survived Tommy’s harassment, but that seemed like nothing compared to attempting to find shelter in a Maine blizzard.
She shrugged on her backpack, regretting her decision to take her computer and iPad because they only weighed her down. But she’d procrastinated long enough. If she was going to leave, it had to be now.
Taking a deep breath, Carlise pushed open the door and stepped into a blinding-white hell.