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 thankful for the half-empty bottle of vodka that I had hidden under the passenger seat. I'd brought it a couple of weeks back in an attempt to force myself asleep because I had been too long without it at that point. It hadn't helped much, but it was helping now. My mind was starting to grow spacey from the couple of long sips I'd taken when I'd stopped to fill up my gas tank. I reached down to turn up my radio, singing along loudly and totally out of tune.
My eyes drifted from the road to the Vodka bottle nestled against my leg. The temptation to take another drink nagging at me. I shook away the reckless impulse – when I got to the next town when I was sure I was safe, I would drink myself into a stupor.
I caught movement out of my peripheral. A shadow lunging toward the highway. I lifted my gaze just as the deer jumped out into the road. Time seemed to slow down, making my reactions appear even slower. I sucked in a surprised breath as I swerved to avoid it, clipping its hind quarter with the left side of my bumper. I felt the impact reverberate up my arms and into my body, pushing me back into my seat as I slammed my break, skidding to stop on the side of the road. My heart was racing and my knuckles were white from how hard I was gripping the steering wheel. It took a moment for me to turn and look, afraid I would find the poor animal smeared across the road.
I let out a small breath of relief when I found the highway empty. I closed my eyes and dropped my forehead to the back of my hand. I was a mess and seriously needed to get myself under control.
I got out of my truck, grabbing my revolver from the passenger seat and tucking into the waistband of my jeans. I didn't want to take any chances – it was dark, I was alone, and Silas was out there somewhere just waiting for the perfect opportunity. I slammed the door closed as I walked toward the front of my truck, frowning as I examined the damage. My left headlamp had been broken, a nice dent in the bumper, and a there was a bit of fur and blood on the grille. It could've been worse but the fact that it happened at all irritated me. My funds were starting to run low again but I'd have to get this fixed. The last thing I needed was a cop to pull me over.
As I walked back toward the driver's door I noticed that the back end was sitting low – too low. I muttered a curse under my breath as I stomped my way toward the tailgate. The tire was definitely flat. Luckily, this was something I had prepared for. I hoisted myself onto the back of my truck, grabbing my jack, and lug wrench. I set them down on the ground next to the problem tire – and stared. I had never changed a tire before, well not by myself. I'm sure I could probably remember if I tried.
I turned my head, glaring into the shadows the hung just outside of the glow of my headlamps. I had to be about a half-mile past the bar where I had met Rhys, stuck by the side of the road, trying to rectify the situation I had gotten myself into. I was too proud to walk to the bar and ask for help. I figured someone might recognize me or say something to Rhys and then I'd look even more like an idiot – which at this point seemed pretty impossible.
