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Authors: Skye Warren

Tags: #captivity, #stockholm syndrome

Wanderlust (16 page)

BOOK: Wanderlust
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I nodded.


Jesus.” He ran a hand
through his hair again. “Okay, go ahead and sit down. I’ll call the
cops.”

I sank into the chair while he went to
the phone. He’d already dialed when Laura appeared at the
door.


What’s going on?” Her
eyes were wide, frightened. Either she’d heard the tenor of our
voices or just smelled the fear in the air. It was something I’d
learned in my time with Hunter, that fear had a primal scent, a
universal sign to get out while you still could. That was what the
workers at the diner had done.
You’re on
your own,
they’d said, thus saving their
own behinds, and I couldn’t blame them. But there were people like
James who didn’t think twice about trying to help me when he
realized I was in trouble.

People like Laura.

James kept running his hand over his
face, through his hair. It was a nervous gesture on
repeat.

He spoke into the phone lowly. “Yes, I
have an emergency. There’s a girl here. She’s in trouble. It’s at
my house. She’s been kidnapped.”

Laura gasped, her gaze darting between
me and James. I could almost see the switch flipping inside her,
from sweet country woman to mama bear. She marched over to
me.


By us? Is that what
you’re telling them? Explain this to me.”


Hunter,” I whispered.
Dread settled in my gut. It couldn’t have been that
easy.


Kidnapped,” she said
flatly. Then louder. “You want us to believe he
kidnapped
you, when we all saw you
walk in this house of your own free will?”


What was I supposed
t-t-to d-d-do,” I cried, silently cursing my stutter. “Run d-down
the road in the middle of nowhere? My c-c-car is back in the motel
where he t-took me.”

I hated that I couldn’t
explain myself better, more clearly, but I was too agitated to form
the words clearly.
You could speak just
fine with Hunter,
an inner voice taunted.
As if I trusted him. I hated that I trusted him.

Laura pulled the phone away from a
startled James and slammed down the receiver. For a moment, no one
spoke, and the room was alight with the sound of our heavy, fearful
breaths.


Laura,” James said
softly. “If she’s telling the truth…”


No.”


We have to at least help
her. If she’s lying, they’ll find out.”


After he’s been dragged
to a jail in handcuffs. Someone with a prison record. They aren’t
going to give him the benefit of the doubt. Are you going to be
responsible for that?”

His hand ran over his face, through
his hair. “If she’s telling the truth…”


She’s not. Hunter
would
never—“
Her
voice cracked.


Look, I have a hard time
believing it too, but he never was the same after he got out. You
know that. And I have no reason
not
to believe her.”

We were silent. I stared at them,
feeling myself tremble but curiously detached. It was always easier
to let someone else decide my fate. I’d certainly had enough
practice.

The phone rang.

Laura picked it up. “Hello? No, I’m
sorry, that was a misunderstanding. He thought I was in trouble,
but I’m fine.” A few more answers and she hung up. “They’re going
to send a squad car by in the morning to check up on
us.”

James’s hands finally stilled at his
side. “Laura. If she’s telling the truth, we have to help
her.”

Laura’s expression hardened. “Even if
I knew for sure she was telling the truth, I’m not going to help
put Hunter behind bars again. No matter what.”

My stomach turned over. So that was
it. Once more someone had seen my helplessness and turned away.
That this was more personal, an old unexplained loyalty to Hunter
made it bittersweet but no less painful.

How sad, to realize my mother was
right after all. Her righteousness tasted like acid in my mouth. I
hadn’t wanted to believe it was true. What a lonely world. So very
cold.

Distantly, I heard banging coming from
downstairs. Hunter was done with his shower.

I stood and walked to the back door.
Laura was demanding I come back. James was asking me to give him a
chance, promising he’d help me, that he was on my side if I’d just
trust him. What a joke. I unlocked the door and stepped outside.
The night air was cool on my face, sprinkled with early dew.
Sunrise was just a strip of blue along the horizon, barely peeking
from its slumber. I crossed the lawn in my bare feet, the grass
tickling my soles. Then faster. They’d go down and let him out. Any
second he would come barreling after me.

How badly did I want to be
free?

I picked up speed, running over the
ground, the darkened green blurring beneath my feet. Faster and
faster, until my breath sawed through my throat, until pain stabbed
my side. I went toward the line of trees. They’d talked about the
lake out back where they’d gone fishing, part of an elaborate trail
and camping grounds.

Brush tugged at my dress, pulling at
my hair, the small pain sweeter because I knew it meant freedom.
Each small rip of my skin, each bruise of a rock beneath my bare
feet was the soft plunk of a coin in exchange for one more second
in the wild. Like an animal, I ran with no direction, no plan, my
singular goal to escape.

I ached everywhere, inside and out,
but still I continued, and finally I understood fully what Hunter
had meant. I thought in those moments that I would die from this
alone, that my heart would burst out of my chest, that my body
would seize and fall to the ground, but I kept going. It wasn’t
even wanting something badly, it was wanting it more than death. It
was dying for something and being reborn.

Minutes, hours passed as I ran through
the trees. I could run forever and not see another person, I
thought. I could fall down and never get up, but more than relief I
wanted freedom.

Sunlight broke through the trees,
irreverent to my hopeless wandering. Birds chirped as I passed by,
going about their day while I hungered and ached. Just like the
people had done. I was alone, but I didn’t want the statement to
wring sadness from my heart anymore. I wanted to be like
Hunter—content in my solitary travels. Though when I had begun to
look up to my captor, I didn’t know.

Adrenaline was a sweet elixir rushing
through my blood, giving the world a lovely orange glow. Everything
seemed breathless and yet wonderful, gasping for air and laughing
all at once. It was almost as sweet as the rush of orgasm when
he—no, I wouldn’t think about that.

That had been wrong. Disgusting, even.
He had warped me into thinking it was okay, even for a few minutes,
for days, weeks. I didn’t want to do that again, not ever. Which
was convenient, because I couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone but
him.

That was only the limitation of my
experience, I reminded myself. I straightened. I was going to try
lots of things. Maybe not sex, but there was more to do in the
world than that, wasn’t there? No one would call me naïve when I
was finished.

I walked for some time before my feet
began to bleed. The grass had seemed like manna at first, like a
magic carpet that had carried my away, but now it caked onto my
sore feet, dragging me down.

I tried to think smarter,
strategically. I didn’t have any of the things from my backpack,
didn’t have my car, and I was alone in the woods. Not an auspicious
beginning to my newfound freedom. But I resolved to keep going.
Just keep walking and I’d find something new. Something
better.

The afternoon waned into dusk, the
edges of my vision tinted with purple. I could only see trees in
every direction. I was so tired. Thirsty too. My worst fears began
to surface in the delirium. I wasn’t cut out for the regular
world.

Gradually, like the drift of a cloud,
I became aware of the tinkling of water. I stopped walking and
cocked my head to listen, then headed in that direction. It felt
like I’d never find anything, like maybe it had been a mirage even
as the rush of water got louder, the taste of moisture in the air
grew thicker.

Shadows lengthened on the ground and
pooled into darkness. Night had fallen. I glanced back the way I
had come and saw only darkness. How far had I gone? Miles, light
years away. It was impossible to tell and didn’t matter
anyway.

I was too far away to be found by
Hunter. Too far to ever find him again, even if I wanted to, and an
inexplicable sadness stole my breath away.

The ground beneath my feet turned from
grass to muck then to wet sand. I stumbled out onto a steep beach.
Gentle waves lapped at packed sand. A burst of joy and relief
pushed out of my body as a laugh. I stumbled down the bank, washing
my feet in the frigid water. I splashed it on my face and drank it
down.

When my feet were numb from the cold,
I reluctantly returned to the shore. A soft of smoky air tickled my
nose. Fire?

Running over the heavy sand, I saw a
reddish point of light in the distance. The closer I got, the
hazier it became, large and weighty—a campfire on the beach, and
that meant people. I felt light, flying, almost there.

Two black shadows
burnished with orange approached me while I babbled:
p-p-please help me, oh I’m so glad I f-found you,
I was lost.
One of them got a blanket and
draped it over me. Slowly the shapes turned into people. They were
young, maybe my age, maybe a few years older. Both male, though I
would have been hard-pressed to use the word man. Despite the
scruff marring their faces, they both had a boyish quality. It was
their eyes. No worry there, no hardships weighed on them. They did
not seem overly concerned with my hardships either. One took a sip
from a beer bottle.

The other examined me with detached
curiosity. His dreadlocks were tied back with a ribbon, his shirt
ripped down the side, exposing pale skin stretched over slender
ribs. “Where you from, sweetheart? You damn near gave me a heart
attack. You came out of nowhere, like you flew from the
sky.”

I blinked. What a strange thing to
say. “I was running away from—never mind.”

It was a relief, I told myself. These
were exactly the type of people I had been seeking in the first
place. They didn’t take things too seriously, not even a dirty,
bruised woman stumbling out of the woods. Maybe they were even
thrill seekers. That would explain why they were out here in the
middle of nowhere, camping on the beach. Devil may care.

The circumstances may be strange, but
I wasn’t going to waste this opportunity. In fact, as the seconds
ticked by, instead of calming down, adrenaline flooded my
system.


I’m Evie. What’re your
names?”

The one with dreadlocks said, “I’m
Trevor. That’s Rob.”


Nice to meet you.” I
laughed, still a little lightheaded from the lack of food or water
or sleep. “Well, T-T-Trevor, I’m going to t-tell you something.
I’ve had a really bad d-day, but that’s over now.”


Yeah, because you’re here
now. You can stay with us.”


Actually I probably need
t-to find a town.” And a police station.

I didn’t relish the thought of turning
him in, but I didn’t have a way of getting back my stuff without
him. My car, my camera—my book. Some days I wondered if the book
meant more to me than the place.


It’s a hike up that way.”
Trevor waved down the river. “We’re going back tomorrow morning if
you want us to show you.”

Relief flooded me. “That would be
great.”

Rob popped open a beer from their
cooler and held it out. “Thirsty?”

* * * *


Hold her
down.”

I woke up without air. Someone was on
top of my chest, holding me down. Something else was clamped over
my mouth, blocking my breath. I struggled, managing to dislodge the
hand long enough to suck in precious lungfuls, but by the time I
could focus again, my arms were bent backward, trapped in the sand
by two heavy knees pressing down, cutting off
circulation.

Trevor straddled my chest, mauling my
breasts. My dress was pushed up, the thin fabric bunched around my
neck, making me feel even more trapped. My breathing came faster.
Dark spots danced in front of my eyes. I was going to black out.
Maybe that would be best. Then I wouldn’t have to feel what came
next. But I might not wake up. Already I struggled to breathe,
jerking and flailing for unblocked access to the crisp night
air.

Slowly, I stilled. Around me, there
was motion. The men were moving over me, around me. Hurting me. I
stared up at the stars. They were so bright out here. There were
never so many at home. Was this the price to see them?

A sharp pain stabbed at my center. My
entire body recoiled from his penetration, writhing in the sand
with nowhere to go. The night sky blurred as tears filled my eyes,
and the twinkling lights melted and swirled. It reminded me of a
painting I’d seen in a book, swirls of blue and yellow. Maybe the
artist had cried and painted what he’d seen. Maybe he had been hurt
too while looking up at the sky.

BOOK: Wanderlust
12.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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