Dove Prescott is forced into a dangerous game of cat and mouse after another failed attempt to escape from her boyfriend turned captor.
Fleeing from town to town, Dove has stayed one-heart stopping step ahead of the monster who is hunting, tormente...
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I was choking on my own fear; it was crashing down over me in waves as I approached my motel room. I slid the key from the pocket of my shorts, feeling rather pathetic. I cast a surveying look over my shoulder to the parking lot as my paranoia prompted me. A cloud of fluttering brown wings nearly smothered out the dim yellow light of the street lamp. Thankfully, there was a red neon vacancy sign that blinked in the office window that afforded me the extra light I needed to see clearly. There was only my truck and a dirty Nissan –I knew it belonged to the guy at the front desk. I had watched him get leave in it the first morning after I arrived.
There was a small respite as I turned and put the key in the door, giving it a twist. It opened a crack and I slipped inside. I rushed to close and lock it behind me, holding back the sickness that stirred in my knotted stomach. I moved to the large window and drew the curtains closed. I began to pace the length of the room. All the adrenaline pumping through me needed to be released. I had gone out tonight – purposefully, to hide my scent. I wanted to drown myself in all the bodies I could. It was the perfect mask for creatures who tracked their prey by smell.
Now, I needed to get control of my paranoia before it crippled me. I rubbed my itchy palms down the front of my shirt as beads of sweat slipped down between my shoulder blades. It had been six months since I had put Silas and his pack behind me. I had been on the run since then and I was getting damn tired of running. I took in a measured breath and closed my eyes, trying to get my racing heart and thoughts under control. The fear of him finding me felt worse at times than the what would happen if he actually did. It was possible that Silas wasn't even chasing after me. It was possible this was what he'd intended for me to feel. Maybe he wanted to drive me to the point where I was so scared that I came back to him on my own.
I exhaled heavily as I opened my eyes. I shuffled forward a couple of steps before I dropped down onto the lumpy mattress, running my fingers through my hair. I hated the brown color I had dyed it. It was dull and nothing like the golden blonde color I used to see when I looked in the mirror. The change had been a necessary evil, though. I'd done well to cover my tracks over the past couple of months; changing my looks, using fake names, and never staying in any one place for too long. One mistake could bring this all crashing down around me.
One mistake...I bit into my lip.
I had slipped up today in the bar.
I had used my real name.
Maybe it had been my subconscious desire to get caught, to put an end to all the fear and running. I let out another sigh before I slipped off my sneakers, crawling underneath the sheets as I settled myself into the bed. I was exhausted but that wasn't unusual. I was always tired these days. I coveted the few hours of actual sleep that I got at night. Most of the time I ended up lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling of whatever shit hole I was living in that week and replaying everything thing I had done or said that day. I had the constant urge to analyze everything I did to make sure I hadn't made any mistakes.
