Saving Me (Finding You #3) (10 page)

Chapter Seventeen

Dakota

John would soon be hot on my tail. I would have to outwit him as opposed to out-running him with broken ribs. Hopefully the thick trees would help me do that.

Pausing for not even a minute, I threw my clothes on in haste, not even checking to see if they were on backwards, but making sure I still had the folded piece of paper stashed into the side of my panties, and then headed for the small store.

The day was already warm, or maybe it was the fact that I was so worked up. Either way, the shade of the fir trees was a blessing. My sandals weren’t exactly cut out for hiking but then when I’d thrown them on yesterday morning, I had no idea I’d be running for my life through the thicket at Big Bear Lake the following day.

My mouth was dry again. If there had been more time to escape I could have planned a little better and taken some water from the cabin. My mouth felt like a dry river bed.

Hearing twigs snap behind me, I zig-zagged ahead, using the tree trunks as a shield, not game to peek behind. My heart was thumping louder than a drum and I had to try and muffle my loud, strained breaths from the acute chest pain. Maybe that’s what John was counting on. My injuries thwarting any attempt at getting to safety. Well, I’d rather die trying than give up and return to that disgusting psycho. He’d given me the window of opportunity to break out and I’d taken it. That was his stupid fault. What had he expected me to do? Stay tied up like a good little wife until he returned to manhandle me some more? If there was one thing I’d learned after the plane crash, it was you had to rely on yourself and your own strength to survive. No one else could do it for you. Fight until there was nothing left.

My mind had to push my body to keep on going, when all I wanted to do was collapse in a heap and cry. That would surely get me killed, though. If I was going to die it was not going to be at the hands of John.

Forging on, stumbling over branches, rocks, and forest debris, John sang out, clearly closing the gap.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are! You might as well surrender, Dakota. I know you’re bleeding. You won’t last long. The creatures in these woods will smell it on you.”

Damn! I hadn’t thought of that. What creatures was he talking about? Bears? Coyotes? No. He was just bluffing. The only threat to me was him.

I have to get to the store at all costs. I can call Kyle and let him know where I am. He must be crazy by now.

That alone kept me moving. My body had given up back at the cabin but my mind wouldn’t accept it. While air was still being sucked into my lungs I would push forward.

Voices out on the lake caught my attention. People laughing and having a ball. The sound of a boat. At first, I paused. Maybe if I flagged down the tourists they would come and save me. If I screamed and yelled loud enough, they’d hear me over the roar of the boat engine.

My shoulders slumped. Even if I did grab their attention, by the time the boat made its way over, John would have enough time to catch up. It would be over. No. I had to stick to my plan.

Taking off again, I listened for John’s voice. It was getting closer.

“Come on, you little bitch! Don’t make this harder for yourself. I went to get you food, for Christ’s sake! Is this how you repay me? Fuck!”

My legs screamed for mercy. My bloodied arms still had protruding glass jutting out but I kept on moving, running purely on adrenalin and nothing else.

There was some innate fire in my belly that kept my legs moving forward.

Where the hell is the store? A mile? Two?

I should have reached it by now. It felt like I’d been running for hours. Without a watch it was hard to tell.

Through the trees something brown appeared. A building. A log cabin similar to the one I’d just escaped from. That could only mean one thing. People. Help. Freedom.

Leaning against the bark on a tree trunk, I tried to get my breath for a few seconds. The knife was still clutched in my hands. There were no pockets to stash it in. Would strangers think I was crazy if I went banging on their door wielding a knife? Probably. That was a risk worth taking.

Pushing off from the tree I staggered out into the clearing that surrounded the cabin. I ran for the back door, noticing there was no car out the front. It looked closed up. Empty. Running up to the door, I pounded a couple of times, hearing John almost at the clearing. Shit. I had to move. Now!

Turning down the dusty driveway, I angled off into the trees, keeping covered but following the road, hoping it would lead me to the store.

“I know you’re there, sweet thing! I can smell your fear.”

A shot rang out nearby, seeming to lodge in a tree about five feet away. Desperate, I ran from tree to tree, momentarily stopping for cover each time. Another shot. Okay, now I was in trouble. Dodging bullets upped the game to another level.

Not knowing what to do, I strayed off course to a large tree and hid. Maybe if I just stayed quiet, he would run right by me. The risk of getting shot was too great. I’d never make it to the store at this rate. If John had half a brain, he’d know where I was headed.

Clutching my stomach, I turned side on into the tree, sucking in air through my nose to try and keep any sound to a minimum. The tree helped prop me up as my legs nearly gave way. They felt like jelly, filled with lactic acid.

“I know you’re close! You can’t get away from me. I’ll find you no matter what.”

I felt ill. Sick to my stomach. Vomiting at this point would not be wise. Swallowing hard, I tried to quell the intense urge to gag.

John was so close. The dried, fallen needles from the pines crunched under his boots. My breath practically stopped. Any second now he would appear, the gun aimed at me.

Hold on. Just a little longer. Please God. Don’t let me die. Please!

John was puffing, practically beside me. I closed my eyes, waiting for the end, keeping a prayer going anyway.

Remembering the knife that now felt so comfortable in my hand I could hardly feel it, I stood upright again in attack mode, knowing full well that it wouldn’t hold up against a gun but it made me feel like I had some morsel of a chance.

All my senses were on high alert. Twigs were still snapping nearby but as I focused more it was almost as if they seemed to be getting quieter. Could he possibly be moving on? It sounded as if he was.

Should I risk a peek now?

Slowly I moved my head so that only my right eye could see in the direction that I thought John had gone. My left one was still blurry and swollen. His black shirt came into view about ten feet away so I shot back behind the tree. He was moving on but looking all around him as he went. The gun was out and aimed at anything that moved.

Letting out a choked breath, I waited until I could no longer see or hear him before deciding what to do. The pause had given me time to rest, if you could even call it that, but I needed to keep moving. John could backtrack at any moment. The earlier nausea was far from gone. If I’d eaten any breakfast that morning it would now be on the forest floor. Maybe it was a blessing that my stomach was so empty. There was nothing to bring up except the little bit of water I’d had.

Feeling as if now was as good a time to move as any, I skulked from tree to tree, heading back towards the dirt road. If only a car would go past, I could flag it down and get a ride to the general store.

Nothing of the sort happened though, and it was another fifteen minutes before I stumbled upon my destination.

The sight of the small timber shop, balcony out the front, postcards on a stand with other tourist wares, made me cry. It was like finding an oasis in a desert.

Looking both ways, I hobbled across the road, up the two steps onto the verandah, and through the front door, which had a bell attached to it.

At the sound of the bell, an older man with greying hair and glasses looked up from the newspaper he was reading behind the counter. His eyebrows rose at the sight of me as I entered, the knife at my side.

“Please…help…!” I fell against a shelf just inside the door, my legs letting go. The knife clattered to the floor.

The man rushed out from behind the counter. “Dear Lord! Whatever is the matter, Miss?”

He carefully placed his arm around me to help lift me up.

His hands on my ribs were excruciating. “Arrrrggghhh!”

“Shhh. It’s okay. I got you. I just want to move you over to that chair where we can sit you down.”

There was a wooden chair and table against a wall to the left of the counter. It felt like miles away. With each step I cried out, not caring about restraint any more.

“What’s got you so messed up then? You look like you’ve been trekking for days, although if I may say so, you’re not exactly dressed for it.”

“Water…”

“Oh, how rude of me. Sure. I’ll just go out back and get you some. You just relax.” He walked away, leaving me to slump onto the table.

I was too exhausted to move. It didn’t matter now. I was safe. It was all over.

The kind man came back with a glass of water and seated himself opposite me in the second chair.

He held out his arm to me. “The name’s Jervis. Jervis Clearwater.”

My hand shook as I meekly took his hand. “Dakota Livingston.”

“Well now, Miss Livingston. Would you like to tell me how you managed to get so banged up? You’ve got glass in them arms of yours. If I’m not mistaken, I’d say you’ve a chest injury and your left eye looks like you’ve been in a sparring match.”

Gulping down some water before answering, the cool liquid soothed my burning throat. “I—”

That’s all I could get out before the bell rang above the door and someone entered. Boots clomped over the floorboards until John stood in front of us. I hadn’t even heard the SUV pull up.

He had plastered the most fake, concerned expression on his face. “Oh my God! Darling! There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I’m so glad you’re safe. I’ve been so worried.”

He moved over to me with his arm held out. I cowered back into the wall. The gun was nowhere to be seen.

Jervis was looking from me to John, confused.

John turned to him. “Hello, sir. I’m Dakota’s husband. I’ve been searching everywhere for her. She’s not well and needs to come back to the cabin to take her medication. We only checked in yesterday morning.”

“Please. No. Don’t.” I turned to Jervis, who eyed both of us with concern. John’s nose was bruised and swollen and his chin was a mess, although the blood had been cleaned off.

“What’s going on here?” asked Jervis, still turning between John and I.

“Sir, if you’ll come with me for a second, I think I can explain.” John motioned for Jervis to walk with him out of earshot.”

I squeaked out. “No. Jervis. Don’t go with him. Please. I beg you. He’s been holding me hostage at gunpoint. I’ve only managed to escape. You have to believe me.”

Jervis only stared back at me as John led him to the front of the shop.

Whispers too quiet to hear. Mumbles.

“Please, Jervis. Don’t listen to him. It’s all lies. If you’ll just let me call my fiancé, I can have all this cleared up.”

The two men appeared deep in discussion. Both heads nodded, intermittently.

If Jervis let John take me with him, I was screwed. Just when I thought it was all over, it would only be just beginning.

Finally when both men returned, Jervis, with the knife I had dropped and a look of sympathy on his face, smiled. “Your lovely husband here tells me that he’s going to take care of you. You’re very sick and need to take your medication.” He was giving me such a weird look, as if I was insane and he had taken pity on me.

“No, Jervis. You’ve got it all wrong. He’s the sick one. He kidnapped me and brought me here. I don’t belong here. I have a fiancé. I’ve only just moved into a new house. He—”

Talk about at my limit. I couldn’t take any more. Not if I had to go with John back to that cabin.

“Now, now. Calm down. Everything is going to be all right. You’re going to get the help you need.” He moved to help me up but I pushed him away.

“I don’t want to go with him. He’s not my husband anymore. He’s evil.”

John and Jervis exchange a knowing look. Jervis nodded his head slightly in response to the silent communication.

John moved to pick me up off the chair but I lashed out. “Get away from me, you pig. Don’t touch me!

“Come on, honey. It’s okay. Let’s go and get you cleaned up. Give you a nice bath and then you can have a long sleep.” As he pulled me kicking and screaming from the store, John thanked Jervis. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you looking after my woman for me.”

Jervis smiled. “You’re very welcome. Anything I can do to help, you just let me know.” His gaze went to me and for a split second I thought something shifted in his gaze. A flicker of doubt as I pleaded with my eyes.