I stumble over a stump and slice my hand open as I reach out to catch myself. Adrenaline has me climbing to my feet and listening carefully as I hop over a fern. I silently thank Mackey for making me work on so many damn lunges and jumps and Dustin for constantly making me work on balance exercises.
I run as fast as I can, my hands out in front of me, trying to gauge where anything dangerous is. I’m terrified I’ll fall into a ravine and break my leg or impale myself on one of the broken trees.
I hiss as brambles tear at my neck, then, sprint forward as the canopy thins. A thin layer of snow that covers the ground, brightening the section of forest to allow me to see almost clearly. I stop at the other end and listen.
Branches snap, and Julian swears, no longer trying to be silent as he edges closer to Evelyn.
“Hey,” I yell. Sprinting toward him, still too far away for us to see each other.
Something cuts my arm, and a branch breaks as my calf drags across it. In the back of my head, I know I’m going to be bruised and sore tomorrow. I try to bring that thought closer to the surface. I want to cling to the pain, embrace it because it means I’ll be here. I’ll endure the pain, wait for the bruises and cuts to heal because I no longer need a series of self-dates to remind me how desperately I want to be alive or how I want to be treated. I already know how desperately I want to feel Grey again, see my parents and friends, beat a world record, and continue to work on accepting and loving myself as much as I love life. As much as I love Griffin, and Hudson, and Evelyn.
As much as I love Grey.
I yell again to catch Julian’s attention, louder this time.
I don’t know where he is, and it’s so damn dark, I’m not even certain I’m near Evelyn as I move behind another tree so I can listen.
I’ve always loved the forest. Growing up in Oleander Springs, next to the lake and woods, the forest was a second home, a setting Hudson and I navigated often, but it’s eerily silent and dark tonight.
A noise nearby has me crouching lower. Fear has my opossum peeking its nose out, unsure what I heard or how far away it was as adrenaline makes it difficult to think or focus. Another rustling tells me I’m still not close enough.
“Hey!” I yell again, running faster.
A pop, followed by the sound of splintering tree bark nearby has me falling to my hands and knees.
A bullet.
A mothertrucking bullet.
At this rate, Briggs will be able to retire to Tahiti, thanks to the additional trauma Julian is inflicting.
Bushes and branches snap with movement and I realize Julian’s moving and this time, he’s coming directly at me.
Finally.
I turn around and scurry across the soaked ground on my hands and knees, terrified he’ll see me if I stand.
“You can’t hide,” Julian yells. “Haven’t I proven that to you?”
A thorn catches my cheek as I turn to look over my shoulder, wondering if it’s safer to remain down where I might be a smaller target or get up because I’m faster on my feet.
“Do you know your mother never even mentioned you? I dated her for four months before I even knew you and your sister existed.” He stops talking, and another bullet pops.
I freeze.
This would be a great time to know how many bullets a gun can hold. How many times he can shoot before I can stop being terrified.
“Your mother locked that damn door, not me, and she still got out sooner. I didn’t even know you, didn’t want the two of you living in my house.” Bushes rustle again, and I scamper another ten feet so I can hide behind a stump.
“Do you know what I had left when I was released from prison?”
I slink forward, hearing the rage in his voice. I remember next to nothing about him, barely even his face. We only lived with him a couple of months before Mal died, he and my mother were arrested, and my life changed forever. I huddle behind a wide oak tree, where I pull my knees to my chest.
“Nothing!” he screams. “I lost my house, my car, every goddamn thing I owned because I let a slut and her two idiot kids live with me.”
His words should anger me. Another day, they might, but right now, I focus on the rustling of bushes that tell me he’s drawing closer.
“They kept you hidden for so long. Adopted to your rich Hollywood dad. They changed your name, and pretended you weren’t the trailer trash you were…”
He stops, and my heart thrums, wondering if he’ll shoot again. I pray his visibility is as terrible as mine.
“Your uncle offered me everything he knew for forty bucks.”
Hearing this is like stepping on a nail, causing me to mentally buckle.
“Forty bucks,” he repeats. “That’s all your life was worth to him.”
Another pop. Another splintering of tree bark.
I huddle tighter.
“This could have been so easy. Things didn’t have to come down to this. If you hadn’t called to police, I would have taken it easy on you. I didn’t want to hurt you. I just wanted compensation. I came to your apartment last spring with the intent of arranging a payment plan. You were supposed to tell your parents you wanted to buy a boat or a car or whatever in the hell you waste money on and pay me back for the hell you put me through. Instead, you got me fired and arrested. Again.”
He’s so close the ferns beside me shift. I try not to breathe.
“I tried to talk to you again, and you called me a fucking psycho.”
I knew that insult dug at him.
“You want to see a psycho? Because I’m about to show you.” He stops. “I know you’re close. How long do you think you can hide?”
The ferns shift again.
“You came running at me. You didn’t toss it, you…” He shifts, but the ferns don’t move. He moves again, too fast in the opposite direction, back toward Evelyn.
I don’t have a guard dog. It turns out I really am a feral cat.
I move out from behind the tree and lunge at Julian Holloway.
Grey
“Five minutes,” Cole assures me, pressing the gas pedal down and accelerating, trying to race the clock.
Those minutes feel like a life sentence.
“How the fuck did he find her again?” Abe demands.
“There are lots of places to hide,” Cole says. “Mila’s fast, and she’s scrappy when pushed.”
“As long as she doesn’t freeze,” Mackey says.
“She won’t,” I snap.
Mackey spots her car first, pulled off to the side, as close the tree line as possible. She did a damn good job.
Cole crosses all four lanes of traffic and barely slows as we hit the shoulder of the road. He cuts across the grass, blocking Julian’s truck as he pulls to a stop.
“Let’s fan out,” I say, opening my door.
The sound of a gunshot freezes my blood.
I’m going to rip him apart with my bare hands.
I hear Cole and Mackey devising a plan, but I’m already diving into the trees.
“You take the right side, I’ll take the left,” Abe says, moving next to me.
A scream pierces the air, and we break into a run, heading in the same direction. Snow offers the tiniest bit of light, but it’s not enough to see clearly, slowing us down.
“Get the girls and get out. He’s mine,” I tell Abe.
“Mackey will take them. I’m staying.”
A bellow of anger has us curving left followed by Evelyn yelling for help.
We sprint, branches and vines threaten to slow us down, but the shouts have our adrenaline pumping and our feet racing.
We tear through the forest, running farther than I expected them to go, hearing shouts and grunts. I spot Evelyn first, holding a branch like a baseball bat. My heart careens in my chest, feeling relief she’s fine and the panic that follows when I don’t immediately see Mila.
“There,” Abe says at the same time I notice the tangle of limbs on the ground. Panic and fear slam into me as I see Julian on top of Mila.
We rush forward as I try to take in the scene, realizing Mila has her legs wrapped around his waist and his head trapped in the crook of her arm, executing a guillotine choke hold.
It’s not a complete hold. Julian’s still conscious, but he’s stuck, struggling in an attempt to get her off.
Abe releases a sharp humorless laugh. “I knew she had it in her.” He pulls a gun from the back of his waistband as Mila’s gaze sweeps to us, her eyes wide and frantic.
I drop to one knee and punch Julian in the kidney to make him stop fighting before wrapping my arm around his neck, near the carotid arteries Mila’s missing. If I press hard enough on it, he will pass out.
I lock eyes on Mila, taking in the scratches on her face, the blood on her lip, and the absolute fear in her eyes as she maintains her hold on him like the absolute badass she has proven to be time and time again.
I want to hurt Julian Holloway in ways I’ve never wanted to hurt another person. Destroy him, one bone at a time. But I know that would only force Mila to remain here and experience more trauma. “I’ve got him,” I assure her. I turn to Abe. “Help her out.”
Abe doesn’t move, keeping the gun trained on Julian. Luckily, Cole and Mackey are right behind us. They don’t wait for instruction, grabbing Mila and dragging her out from under his weight.
“Look at you, champ,” Mackey says to Mila as Cole issues a litany of threats to Julian, warning him if he moves, he won’t leave here breathing.
Evelyn collapses beside Mila, pulling her into a full-body hug.
Cole pulls Julian’s arm back into an armbar. “Where’s the gun?”
“He dropped it,” Mila says.
“He might have more,” Mackey warns.
Abe pats him down.
“Don’t touch anything,” Cole says. “Just hold him.”
“I want to make sure if he tries to move, he’s not going to be reaching for a weapon,” Abe says before tossing a switchblade to Mackey’s feet. Once he’s done, Abe positions himself over Julian, digging a knee between his shoulder blades. “I’ve got him,” he assures me.
I release Julian and go to Mila, falling to my knees and kissing her hair, her face, her shoulder. Everything I can touch, I kiss.
Mila leans into me, closes her eyes and for the second time, she sobs in my arms at the hands of Julian fucking Holloway.
I want to destroy him and let her watch, assure her he can’t haunt her again, but half a dozen police officers suddenly surround us, flashlights and guns raised as they announce themselves.
“Hands in the air,” and officer says, pointing a gun at Abe.
“They helped us,” Evelyn says, moving in front of Abe and Cole.
“Hands in the air,” they repeat.
Cole reluctantly releases his hold on Julian’s arm, and Abe slowly raises his hands. “Everyone back. Keep your hands raised.”
Evelyn, Cole, and Abe collectively move back, keeping their hands raised.
“Is she okay?” someone asks.
The moment he does, there’s movement and a yell of determination.
Mackey steps in front of me, and a dozen bullets echo through the night before Julian Holloway falls to the ground.
