“Fuck,” I whimpered. I heard keys jingle and turned my gaze to the window. I hoisted myself up to the shelf and climbed up to get to the window again. My upper half was out, but I lost my footing and fell to the ground just as the lock on the shed clinked and the door was snatched open. As I fell, I felt something slice my palm, but I couldn’t focus on the pain nor could I really feel it. I hopped up and saw blood dripping from my palm to my arm, and then I looked up, and Calvin was inside the shed, peering through the window and right at me with angry eyes.
“No.” I glanced left. Dylan was sprawled out on the grass by the fence and I had no idea where Roland was and that terrified me even more.
Run.
I didn’t know where the fuck I was going, or what direction to head in, but I ran. I turned toward the trees and ran for my life. It was darker now, only a sliver of sunlight over the horizon. I rushed between the trees, feeling naked branches slapping me in the face.
I panted raggedly, tripping over tree roots and stumbling, but I refused to fall. I looked over my shoulder and saw his silhouette. He was chasing after me. My belly felt heavy with dread, my blood pumping with adrenaline and fear.
I spotted an opening to my right and I took it, and as I ran there was a hill. Too busy looking over my shoulder, I tripped over another tree root and tumbled face forward in a bed of wet leaves.
My breaths were ragged, and I could hear his footsteps getting closer. I looked over and there was a log. I crawled toward it, moving to the other side and lying flat on my back, hiding behind it.
I winced, my hand stinging from the cut, and lifted it up just enough to give it a look. The slice was deep, blood gushing. I reached up and took the satin scarf off my head, wrapping it several times around the wound.
Then I lay still, and the footsteps were louder. He was close. I could hear him breathing, the twigs snapping beneath his weight.
In that moment, I felt the urge to pray. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d prayed, but right now, I needed God to save me. Calvin had killed two women already and he could do it again.
I listened hard, my lips moving, begging God to help me. It sounded like he was moving ahead, passing the log. I didn’t dare look up, for fear that he’d see me. I kept the back of my head pressed to the ground, wishing my whole body would sink into the earth so I could dig my way to safety.
“You should have minded your own fucking business!” Calvin roared.
I cupped the unbloody hand around my mouth to stop myself from making any noises. He sounded close. He was lurking now, trying to figure out where I was.
“I knew exactly who you were when you showed up at my door. Knew you weren’t a damn journalist. You think I wouldn’t keep tabs on what her husband was doing? I always thought he’d figure out what happened with me because of her, and that he’d come looking for me. But he never did. He moved on and married you.”
My heart was beating so loud I could hardly hear him.
“Should have left it alone,” he muttered. He was so close. I heard his steps, the soggy leaves on the ground squishing as he stepped down on them.
“Had nothing to do with you. But now you know too much. All y’all know too much and I’m not going back to prison. Nah. Fuck that. I’d rather die than go back there.”
I heard him step one more time, and then I saw his eyes. He was on the other side of the log, leaning over, looking right down at me.
I screamed to the top of my lungs and rolled over, shooting to a stand, and he immediately pointed a Glock 45 at me.
“There’s nowhere else to run,” he said. “Just stand there and take this bullet.”
I threw my hands in the air. “Wait! I—I believe you! I know she lied about you! I know she ruined your life, okay?”
“Yeah. She did. But like I said, you know too damn much. You gotta go.”
“Please,” I begged as he wrapped his finger tighter around the trigger. “She—she wasn’t fair to you, and I get that. She never should’ve done what she did to you. She never should have lied to try and keep you around!”
“But she did and I’m like this because of her!”
“D-did you kill Miley?”
He quirked a brow, as if the question didn’t need asking.