An hour earlier
Jake could have run several hours more, but not in the dark. And as soon as he slowed, they were there again—the litany of thoughts and emotions that terrified him.
Anxiety.
Anger.
Hatred.
Guilt.
Mostly guilt.
The woods seemed to darken, close in, and he stumbled to a stop and hung his head.
I was right. All that time, I was fucking right. I know what she’s not saying. It's my fault. I should’ve taken the shot.
His fists flew out, pounding the trunk of a mammoth tree. He landed blow after blow until he finally dropped to his knees. Everything went numb.
He couldn’t see his hands. But deep down, he knew he’d done enough damage, because he couldn’t really feel them anymore. His hands. His mind. His heart.
Relieved, he filled his lungs with air.
His mind was blank, then rested.
Better.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, and he didn’t care. In a strange wide-awake sleepwalk, he headed home. Toward the edge of the woods, he could see Kathryn. Looking out.
Looking for me.
His head dropped. With the glow of lights from the house, he could see the raw condition of his hands. Blankly, he stared at them. When he looked up again, she was gone.
Jake entered the house, finding his cell on the kitchen counter next to Kathryn’s. As soon as he unlocked it, six messages from her lit the screen. He didn’t read them, just looked at the time.
It’s late.
When did I leave?
Refocusing, he clicked over to the security system app. The last motion detected other than his was in the garage. Struggling to see the video feed, he blinked hard, his eyes burning from dryness.
She seemed to be rummaging through the cabinets. Finding his stash of a few choice souvenirs from his life as a Dom.
His temper flaring, he stalked into the garage. Devoid of feeling, he watched her fumble with his night-vision goggles.
“They won’t work in the light.”
She jolted and whipped around, dropping the NVGs, which he caught. A nudge of protectiveness surfaced at seeing her startle, and then it was gone.
“What are you doing here, Kathryn?”