Don't Forget Me (An Unforgettable Romance)

Sienna

For the last few months I’ve been scrimping and saving, waiting for the right moment to go.

Now, as my stepdad wraps his hand around my wrist, squeezing too tight, I realize I waited too long.

“Who do you think you are?” His voice an angry growl. The bottle of whiskey in his hand, his eyes bloodshot, his hands shaking. “You aren’t going anywhere. You belong to me.”

I try to step back, terror running up my spine. I shake my head. “No,” I tell him. “You may be my stepdad, but that doesn't give you any right.”

He raises the bottle of booze, and I can imagine it smashing against my skin. I flinch. “Stop it, Ethan, please,” I beg him, “let go of me.”

I need to get away. I need to run, now.

There may be some people in this town who look at Ethan as though he is a respectable man, but I've seen him at his worst. He is a drunk at best. And when my mom was alive, we might have been family, but we are not family anymore.

I push him away hard. And thankfully he's drunk enough that he stumbles.

“You little brat,” he says, reaching for me. “Get back here.”

“No,” I scream, rushing for the door, telling myself not to trip. You've got this, Sienna, I whisper. One foot in front of the other, run. I don't reach for my purse, for a coat, for my shoes. Nothing. I run into the dead of the night. I don't look back. I don't wait. He's too drunk to chase after me, too stupid to know which way to go.

I turn right toward the lake. It's after dark, 10 o'clock, maybe later. I wish I had my phone on me. Any sort of identification, money, something, so I could get a car, a taxi. So I could call a friend. Friend. My stepdad made sure I didn't have many of those. He freaked everybody out who came close. Skeeved them out.

I should have left sooner. I shouldn't have let it come to this. After Mom died I told myself, I'll just graduate high school, turn eighteen, and then I'll go to community college – then I will make a clean break.

But I graduated two months ago and I'm still here.

Community college starts soon enough. Only four more weeks. It can’t come soon enough.

I begin walking down the road. There are trees all around me, and the further I walk away from my stepdad’s place, the further I am from town and the closer I am to the lake – which is my favorite part of where I live.

It’s peaceful and calm here, it’s why I took a job working at a day camp out at the lake, helping kids paddle canoes and collect bugs and make crafts.

But I don’t work until tomorrow at nine a.m… that is a lot of hours to kill and nowhere to go.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I think of who I might be able to call. No one I work with is there now, not at night. In the morning, of course, I can head in and ask my boss for help, but not right now. Don't even have a phone or a number to call anyways. I cut through a path, then another. Going deeper into the woods, wanting to just find shelter for one simple night until morning light when I can make a plan.

As I walk along the lake, my anger fades because yes, I'm mad at how I left my stepdad's house, but I'm glad I got away. It was time. It was necessary and maybe my boss can help me. Tomorrow I can go back to the house while my stepdad is at work and I can get my stuff and figure out where I can live until school starts. I needed to find an apartment or a roommate anyways. This just pushes up my exit plan.

I'm just about out of options and feeling extra tired and considering sleeping underneath a tree until day breaks when I see a cabin nestled in the woods.

I don't see any light or cars in the driveway. Peeking through the windows, it seems pretty empty. Like no one's been here for a while. Maybe it’s a vacation rental. It’s a pretty nice one considering it is sitting right on the lake.

I twist my lips, looking underneath the doormat. There’s no key. I try the window by the back door and somehow it opens.

I smile, thanking my lucky stars. I climb through, praying that there's no alarm system. And when nothing goes off, I exhale the breath I'd been holding. I tiptoe around the cabin looking for any signs of life, but there are none.

What there is is a very masculine dominance to the space. Wood on the walls and plaid on the pillows. Whiskey on the counter and leather on the furniture. A pile of logs next to the wood-burning stove. Hardly any food in the fridge, which makes me smile. No one's been here in a while and that makes my shoulders relax. My sleepy eyes less alert.