I hated that I couldn’t explain myself better, more clearly, but I was too agitated to form the words clearly. You could speak just fine with Hunter, an inner voice taunted. As if I trusted him. I hated that I trusted him.
Laura pulled the phone away from a startled James and slammed down the receiver. For a moment, no one spoke, and the room was alight with the sound of our heavy, fearful breaths.
“Laura,” James said softly. “If she’s telling the truth…”
“No.”
“We have to at least help her. If she’s lying, they’ll find out.”
“After he’s been dragged to a jail in handcuffs. Someone with a prison record. They aren’t going to give him the benefit of the doubt. Are you going to be responsible for that?”
His hand ran over his face, through his hair. “If she’s telling the truth…”
“She’s not. Hunter would never—“ Her voice cracked.
“Look, I have a hard time believing it too, but he never was the same after he got out. You know that. And I have no reason not to believe her.”
We were silent. I stared at them, feeling myself tremble but curiously detached. It was always easier to let someone else decide my fate. I’d certainly had enough practice.
The phone rang.
Laura picked it up. “Hello? No, I’m sorry, that was a misunderstanding. He thought I was in trouble, but I’m fine.” A few more answers and she hung up. “They’re going to send a squad car by in the morning to check up on us.”
James’s hands finally stilled at his side. “Laura. If she’s telling the truth, we have to help her.”
Laura’s expression hardened. “Even if I knew for sure she was telling the truth, I’m not going to help put Hunter behind bars again. No matter what.”
My stomach turned over. So that was it. Once more someone had seen my helplessness and turned away. That this was more personal, an old unexplained loyalty to Hunter made it bittersweet but no less painful.
How sad, to realize my mother was right after all. Her righteousness tasted like acid in my mouth. I hadn’t wanted to believe it was true. What a lonely world. So very cold.
Distantly, I heard banging coming from downstairs. Hunter was done with his shower.
I stood and walked to the back door. Laura was demanding I come back. James was asking me to give him a chance, promising he’d help me, that he was on my side if I’d just trust him. What a joke. I unlocked the door and stepped outside. The night air was cool on my face, sprinkled with early dew. Sunrise was just a strip of blue along the horizon, barely peeking from its slumber. I crossed the lawn in my bare feet, the grass tickling my soles. Then faster. They’d go down and let him out. Any second he would come barreling after me.
How badly did I want to be free?
I picked up speed, running over the ground, the darkened green blurring beneath my feet. Faster and faster, until my breath sawed through my throat, until pain stabbed my side. I went toward the line of trees. They’d talked about the lake out back where they’d gone fishing, part of an elaborate trail and camping grounds.
Brush tugged at my dress, pulling at my hair, the small pain sweeter because I knew it meant freedom. Each small rip of my skin, each bruise of a rock beneath my bare feet was the soft plunk of a coin in exchange for one more second in the wild. Like an animal, I ran with no direction, no plan, my singular goal to escape.
I ached everywhere, inside and out, but still I continued, and finally I understood fully what Hunter had meant. I thought in those moments that I would die from this alone, that my heart would burst out of my chest, that my body would seize and fall to the ground, but I kept going. It wasn’t even wanting something badly, it was wanting it more than death. It was dying for something and being reborn.
Minutes, hours passed as I ran through the trees. I could run forever and not see another person, I thought. I could fall down and never get up, but more than relief I wanted freedom.
Sunlight broke through the trees, irreverent to my hopeless wandering. Birds chirped as I passed by, going about their day while I hungered and ached. Just like the people had done. I was alone, but I didn’t want the statement to wring sadness from my heart anymore. I wanted to be like Hunter—content in my solitary travels. Though when I had begun to look up to my captor, I didn’t know.
Adrenaline was a sweet elixir rushing through my blood, giving the world a lovely orange glow. Everything seemed breathless and yet wonderful, gasping for air and laughing all at once. It was almost as sweet as the rush of orgasm when he—no, I wouldn’t think about that.
That had been wrong. Disgusting, even. He had warped me into thinking it was okay, even for a few minutes, for days, weeks. I didn’t want to do that again, not ever. Which was convenient, because I couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone but him.