Page 40 of Before the Bond
“Not even a question.”
I wasn’t a stranger to late night drives, but this was definitely the latest I ever drove back to the Ashwood estate.
The forest road was dark.
Trees flickered in and out of my headlights. Bobbing shadows identical to one another.
Frost built at the sides of my windshield and car windows. My heater was on, but it wasn’t doing much. I was suddenly regretting my choice of attire today.
I thought about turning on music. It was what I did whenever I traveled across the state, to keep from getting too distracted. I reached into the glove compartment to find it empty.
Damn it, I thought. I’d taken the CDs out.
My hands gripped the steering wheel tighter.
I told myself the drive wouldn’t be long. I didn’t have to worry.
But before I knew it, it was happening anyway.
The memories came back.
“Go to the car, and don’t come out!”
The voice was right in my ear.
I remembered scrambling toward it. My lungs seized. Every inch of my body aching because I somehow crossed the span of the entire hiking trail.
I remembered waiting for the call. Buzzing static. A distress call.
“Wild animals — aggressive — do not approach.”
“Please, please, please! They’re still out there!”
I felt a lump in my throat — like I could feel the choked sobs I had that day.
I hated myself.
I would blame my memories on alcohol if I actually had any. But it was my own weakness.
If there was one thing the Ashwoods gave me, it was that I didn’t have to think of this. I didn’t have to think of the thing I’d been running from for seven years.
A sharp exhale escaped me. My eyes stung. The pain from my injuries that day somehow made its way back to me. I recalled the blood and its metallic smell. I remembered the shadow of a ranger hovering over me, trying to resuscitate me. And then, I remembered my outburst.
“I shouldn’t have gone!”
“It wasn’t your fault. Your parents —”
“They stayed because of me!”
My car hummed. It wobbled along the lane.
I snapped out of it and quickly adjusted my wheel.
Every part of me was shaking.
Damn it, Olivia.
I tried to think about other things. About work. About past travels. About my conversations with Stella.
