I rolled over, jumped to my feet, and grabbed some clothes. Within a minute, I had my rifle and my backpack. I’d spend the day hunting. That would keep me safely away from her.
Rufus lifted his head from his spot curled up next to Bethany. I told him to stay and he looked offended, but put his head back down.
Outside, I saw black storm clouds piling up on the horizon. Dammit. I’d have to make sure I was back before that hit. But it looked like it was a way off: I could still be out for most of the day.
Normally, hunting calms me. There’s something about being in nature that gives me peace: that’s why I came to the woods. But now, it didn’t seem to be working. I kept going, moving further and further from the cabin but I still had this sense of unease, like something was missing.
Her. It was her. For years, I’d sought solitude. But I’d gotten used to having her around and now, it wasn’t the same without her. Tomorrow, she’d be gone forever. The woods would never feel the same again.
I pushed on, determined to prove my heart wrong. If I went deep enough, found a spot lonely enough, maybe I could get that peace back. But all that happened was that I missed her more. Goddammit!
Then the first heavy drop of rain hit my cheek. I looked up to see clouds rolling overhead, dark mountains that flickered with lightning. They’d moved a lot faster than I’d thought and I was much further from home than I’d planned.
The wind started to rise, setting trees rocking and bending, whistling between the trunks. Shit. This was going to be a bad one. A dangerous one. Bethany hadn’t been through anything like this, not out here in the wilds. And because I’d been selfishly trying to protect my own feelings, I’d left her all alone.
I started to run. And prayed I’d be in time.
38
Bethany
“Ready?” I asked Rufus. He gave an ear-splitting woof and leaped around like an eighty-pound puppy. “Go!”
I hurled the ball. It bounced off the ground, bounced off a tree, flew over my head, and arced down towards the undergrowth. Rufus ran one way, skidded to a stop, and bolted back the other way, almost knocking me off my feet as he passed, then leaped and caught the ball just before it hit the ground. He trotted back to me and dropped it at my feet, then nudged it with his nose: again, again!
I’d picked up the ball while we were in Marten Valley and I was hoping it would last for a good while after I was gone, something for Rufus to remember me by. Just the thought of that made my chest ache. Tomorrow, I’d be off to Canada. A new start, no more looking over my shoulder for the club...but I’d be on my own. And I couldn’t forget about the other women Ralavich had abducted. Maybe, once I was across the border, I could find someone in the Candian authorities who’d listen. But what if I couldn’t? What if they said it was a US problem and that the FBI should handle it? Then the club would have plenty of warning and would just shut down for a few months until the investigation was over. They might even kill the women at the mansion, just to cover their tracks.
I had to go, or I was putting Cal and Rufus at risk. But it felt like I was running away.
Rufus suddenly sat bolt upright and barked at the sky. A breeze was ruffling his coat and a few big drops of rain plopped into the dirt. I looked up to see huge black clouds covering the sky. I hadn’t noticed it getting darker but now, as the clouds covered the sun completely, it was like night had come early.
I wasn’t too worried. I was in a forest, so I’d be sheltered, right? How bad could it be?
But then there was an eerie, rising howl from the trees. I knew the sound, that wail you get when the wind whistles around a tree, like a reed vibrating in a flute. But I’d never heard the wind filtered through ten thousand trees, before, or felt the way it broke apart into a million separate currents, only to recombine and blast you from every direction at once. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and Rufus nudged me with his head. “Okay,” I said. “Let’s get inside.”
We were halfway to the door when I remembered Betsy and Hank. Both were outside grazing. Crap! I hurried to where I’d left them and tried to get Betsy moving towards the barn, but she was unsettled by the wind and wasn’t feeling cooperative, edging to the side instead of going forward. Then the rain started, not so much drops as a constant, hissing stream that plastered my hair to my face and turned the ground to sticky mud. And the whole time, I was looking around me frantically, thinking where’s Hank? The goat was nowhere to be seen.