HOPE

I OPENED MY EYES and for the briefest of seconds, I thought I'd gone blind. It was pitch black. Was I dead? Had they done what they'd threatened? Was this the afterlife?

Then my lungs began to burn and I realised I was still trying to breathe. At the same time, I felt a hand over my mouth and nose. I tried to scream, a shadowy figure coming into focus above me.

"Quiet," the man looming over me said, his voice gruff but quiet, as if he didn't want anyone else to hear him. He lowered his hand down my face, freeing my nose but keeping my mouth covered. "In here."

I was groggy as anything, my body aching with exhaustion. My arms still stung from where I'd fallen into the brambles. My throat was sore from where they'd grabbed me.

I winced as the man dragged me across the room, my limbs ineffectually fighting him, trying to break free. He was far too strong for me. My feet kicked a blanket and there was a single flare of light that died almost at once. It was enough to give me a glimpse of his face. He looked furious.

A door opened and then the darkness grew even blacker. I could make out nothing, not even his face. I was trapped, pressed up against him. Even in my fear I couldn't help but notice that he smelled good.

Another voice reached me, this one shouting, somewhere outside. I knew that voice.

It all came back to me. They were out there. The two of them were still coming for me. I thought I'd got away when I ran into the woods but it was my own stupid fault. I'd soon got lost, stumbling around in the dark, my throat swelling from where it had been grabbed.

When I emerged by the roadside, I went to flag down the first car that passed by. It was them. I almost gave up, having to force my legs to move to get away from them again, sprinting back into the woods and the darkness that swallowed me. Then I found the house in the middle of nowhere.

"Keep still," the man said, his hand sliding down my back. He was going to rape me. He was going to tear my clothes off and I'd never be able to fight him off, he was too strong.

"I need to reach the handle," he whispered. "Move this way."

I shuffled closer to him, my head pressed against his chest as he pulled the door closed behind me. In the darkness, I waited, listening to his slow and steady heartbeat, loud in my ear, so different to my own heart, thumping with fear as it was.

"Did you see her?" a voice shouted.

"No, is she in the house?"

"I can't hear anything."

Silence. The man next to me breathed steadily, his hand on the door, gripping it tightly, keeping us hidden.

The front door of the house crashed open. Whispers. Then louder. "Are you in there, Hope?"

The other voice. "We just want to talk to you. Come on out."

The man holding me shuffled in place, his other hand moving away. I didn't know what was happening but there was a sudden noise outside the house. "What was that?"

"It was that way. Shit, she's doubling back. Come on, this place gives me the creeps."

The door opened again, their footsteps vanishing outside.

I couldn't relax. Not until I knew they were gone. The man holding me made no attempt to move, his hand on me again, holding me against him. He felt warm, the heat coming off him thawing my bare legs as I started to shiver.

"You're cold," he whispered. "Wait there."

"Don't go," I said as he shifted around me. "Please."

He carried on moving but I grabbed his hand, not letting go as he stood up. He muttered something but at least he didn't force me to let go. The door to the cupboard swung open and he listened closely for a few seconds before stepping out. I followed him.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"You need warming up," he said, picking a blanket up off the floor and wrapping it around my shoulders. There was a lantern under the blanket and its glow filled the room, revealing his face better. He stepped back and looked at me as I examined him.

He was tall, well built with broad shoulders. He stood rigidly upright, his chest thrust forwards. He had stubble but only a day or two's worth. He had a face that looked like it was used to telling people what to do and I was no exception.

"Sit there," he said, pointing at the floor. "And tell me who the hell those two were."

"They might come back," I replied, the panic still evident in my voice. "We should go."

"I'm not going anywhere and neither are you until you've warmed up."

"But what if they come back?"

"Then I'll ask them what I'm about to ask you. What were you running from?"

"Please, don't make me talk about it. Not yet." I couldn’t talk about it. To talk about it would mean thinking about it and I was determined to erase it from my memory, never think about it, never talk about it.

"All right," he said, sitting down and patting the floor next to him. "Come on, before you pass out again."

I sat down, glancing up at the window, certain every sound out there meant they were coming back. "Do you have a car?" I asked. "Can you get me away from here?"

"Not until the morning. You can relax. They're not coming back."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I know people," he said bluntly, reaching across and taking my hand in his. "You're still freezing. Come and huddle up on me, you need warming up." I looked at him, my eyes narrowing and he saw the meaning in them. "You were running. You sweated. Your clothes got damp. Now you've stopped, that damp is cooling your skin. After a while, your temperature will get too low and you'll feel tired. Feeling tired?"

I nodded, a yawn escaping my lips.

"That sleep will kill you. Now I'm not going to ask again. Either sit closer or I'll move you."

Then he grabbed me.