"It’s a four-minute ride if we use the backroads," Jacob says as I feel the cold metal of the truck against my back.
“Don’t let go of the pressure on his side,” Chelsea says to someone. “Don’t you fucking die on me,” I hear her whisper in my ear.
I don’t know how long it takes, but when the truck finally stops, my stomach roils. I’m carried off the truck and then placed on the softest bed and sheets I’ve ever been on. I know that I’m going to owe her a new bed when this is all over. If I survive, that is.
"I can see bruising on his ribs," I hear Chelsea say, and my breathing starts to come in short spurts as the pain races through me. "Of course we can’t know because I have nothing here. "
"You can’t do anything for broken ribs anyway," Ethan says, and I can feel the glare Chelsea gives him. "What? It’s true."
"Well, I’m assuming he didn’t puncture his lung since he isn’t choking on his own blood," she hisses out.
"Jesus, Chels," Ethan says.
"Is Casey back with the stuff I need?" she asks, and then I feel her hands on me. Soft and cool. "It’s becoming infected," she says, touching the gunshot wound.
"Hey." I hear another voice, and I go on alert until I hear Ethan call his name.
"What’s up, Quinn?" My eyes open just a sliver, and I see Quinn standing there looking like he just ran a fucking marathon and didn’t stop.
"I got his truck taken care of," he says. "Dad has his burner phone and is going through it. We are also leaving crumbs, so if someone comes after him, we’ll know."
I try to move my hand, and then I feel her hand go into mine. "Mayson," she says, and I turn my head as fast as I can. I see her faintly as I try to open my eyes. Her hair is piled on her head now. "It’s Chelsea." She blinks away the tears that I know are coming. "You’re safe. We have you." I squeeze her hand and then try to open my eye, and I see her blue eyes looking at me with her smile. "Hi," she says, sniffling back.
"Water," I say in a harsh whisper, and she looks over at Ethan, who is bringing me water with a straw.
"Take small sips," Chelsea says, and I take a small sip, my mouth dry and feels like sand is on my tongue. Must be from when I crawled through the forest.
"Not," I start to say, "my truck." My tongue is so heavy, and my throat feels like I have cotton balls shoved down it.
"Don’t waste your energy," Ethan says when Casey walks into the room with two bags in his hands. "We have time for that later."
"I’m not even going to ask how you got all the stuff I asked for in less than"—Chelsea looks at her watch—"twenty-seven minutes."
"It’s better that way," Casey says and walks over to me. "We have you covered, and you’re in good hands."
I nod my head, and I want to stay up talking, but I feel a prick in my arm and see Chelsea look at me. "That should relax you and hopefully put you under. I’ll try to be as gentle as I can."
"Do your worst," I say, right before my eye closes, and I sink into the darkness. Yet I hear everything happening around me.
"Okay, Ethan," she says softly. "I’m going to need your hands."
"Whatever you need," he says, and I know that if I die right here, he would honor me with respect and dignity—two things I don’t think I’m worthy of and never did. I try to stay alert. Try to use the tools I found in the Army, but I can’t fight it anymore and just sink even deeper back to relive the terror of the past five days.
"Wake up, you son of a bitch. I’m not done with you yet." He slapped my face with all his force, causing the back of my head to hit the tree. "No good for nothing. You die when I tell you it’s time to die." With shot after shot, I tasted metal in my mouth, but I shut it out. Once the blows stopped, I counted the steps, forty steps, and I knew he was sitting in my cabin. My fucking cabin. It was only when I counted to one hundred that I knew he wasn’t coming back and started to hatch a plan. My hands were tied, and I had rope burn around my wrists. I fought through it until I heard a noise. He tried to sneak up on me, but the branches snapped under his boots, and I had one second before he plunged the knife into my leg.
I gasp out, and my eye opens. One is still sealed shut as I look around the lit room. My heart is beating so fast in my chest, and my breathing is coming out in pants. With one sweep around the room, I remember where I am. I try to lift my hand, but it’s still so heavy. I blink my eye again, trying to focus and fight off the darkness pulling me under. Ethan looks at me right away, his eyes relaying he’s got my back. "Where am I?" I mumble, trying like hell to leave my eye open.
"Somewhere safe." Ethan comes over to me, and I try to swallow. "Chelsea is going to take care of you. All you need to do is hang in there."
There is so much I want to tell him in case I don’t survive, so many secrets I’ve buried, but some secrets have a way of coming back and haunting us, no matter how much we try to bury them. I look into Ethan’s eyes. "Save your energy for after," he tells me. "There is time for all the answers."
The darkness comes now and sucks me into the hell that I lived.
All I saw was the dark sky, always the dark sky. It could be because the trees were so dense that no sunlight could come through. My favorite time of year was when hardly no one came up here. But I knew these woods like the back of my hand. I studied them, I guess, for this moment. "I’ll fucking kill you," he spat in my face, stabbing me one more time in the leg. I swallowed down the pain and refused to let him see it. If I was going to die, it was going to be without giving him any fucking satisfaction.
"Then do it already." I looked at him. His white shirt had rust-colored stains, and I knew it was my blood that had dried. "Pussy." I egged him on. Except for this time, he snarled at me and dropped the knife right next to my feet.
I took my eyes off him for one second, and it was in that second that he put his hand behind his back and brought out the gun. "Pussy this," he said right before he shot me, and I blacked out again.
"Fuck." I hear Chelsea's voice, and I want to say I’m awake, but I can’t because the darkness comes again. "His blood pressure is dropping.”
"You're nothing." I heard him right beside me. "Fucking nothing but a worthless piece of shit." He kicked me and walked away. I waited until I knew he was gone before opening my eye and looking at the spot where he dropped the knife. It took everything in me to move my legs to drag the knife to me. I worked with cutting my hands free. The pain in my side had me seeing stars. I waited until the darkness had filled the trees, knowing full well he would probably not come out. I waited to gather my strength until I could make my escape.
I didn’t know how long I had. I didn’t know what day it was. I didn’t know what time it was. The only thing I knew was that I wasn’t going to fucking die here. Not today.
Chapter 5
Chelsea
"Showtime," I tell them and turn around, grabbing a pair of gloves and my scissors. I get close to him, and only then do I see how dirty he is. His jeans have dried mud on them. I start cutting up the pants on one leg and then the other, then peel the pants from his legs, but the dried blood pulls his skin. He moans out in pain when it pulls and a couple of the wounds open. "Fuck," I say and look down at his legs. "Five open wounds," I say and then cut his shirt up the middle.