Locke

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He kept talking to himself as I laid in the back seat. His voice drifted between anger and a rationalization that made it sound like he had done nothing wrong. He was putting the blame on me.

Me.

“You did this, yeah you. You know it's your fault, it's all your fault.” His head jerked from side to side, ticking towards his shoulder and snapping straight. “It wasn't true, none of it was true. She wanted it, I know she did. If she didn't, she wouldn't have looked at me the way she did.” Hissing through his teeth, he shook his head. “Fuck she was pretty. Those eyes, damn those curves. . . She knew exactly what she was doing to me.”

The tires squealed as he took a sharp right, tossing me into the panel of the door. I didn't say a word, not one fucking thing. I knew who he was, I remembered his face, his voice, his eyes, all of it. Every single time I closed my eyes he was there, I would never forget that man.

The police had promised me he'd never see the light of day again. But here he was, Dane Sterling, the man who created my nightmares and constant fear.

“But you had to tell them, you had to point me out. You know as well as I do that she wanted it.” The car skidded around another corner, engine revving like thunder as he pushed the gas harder. “I told you I'd come back for you if you ever opened your mouth, I warned you, and you didn't listen.”

Fuck you! Fuck you!

I hate you!

My voice stayed inside, it stayed silent and safe where I could control it. I couldn't control him, I couldn't control what he was doing, and there was no way I was going to chance making it worse.

“All those girls, all of them are your fault too. You made me do this, they died and it's because of you.” Pavement turned into dirt as the tires crunched rocks and sand between the tread like teeth chewing on eggshells.

I felt his eyes burn my skin as he looked over his shoulder at me. “Nothing to say? You don't want to plead for your life or tell me you're sorry for everything you've done?”

Everything I've done?

You think this is my fault? You can't blame me for any of this!!

Nothing. I gave him nothing.

My lids turned to slits as I glared at the back of his head. He was the reason my sister was dead, he was the reason my mother would never be the same. My entire world had crashed down and turned to rubble, and it was all because of him.

He didn't deserve an apology, he deserved a knife to the fucking throat.

“Maybe you should apologize to the girls you got killed, I'm sure they'll never forgive you.” Tipping his head back, Dane laughed a laugh that was crazed and out of control.

The deep baritone clawed through my chest and curled like barbwire around my heart. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, I couldn't move. His voice weighed me down, it held me suspended over an open void, just waiting to drop me inside.

No! He can't have me, he won't have me.

I'm stronger than this.

Taking in a long breath, I tried to pull my hands free from the plastic ties cutting into my skin. I couldn't let him do this, I couldn't let him storm into my life again and take away what I was finally able to get back.

Me.

He didn't have the right to deliver a punishment that wasn't mine to take. He didn't have the right to steal what wasn't his to own.

Dane had already taken so much from me, I couldn't sit back and wait for him to take the rest.

I would never allow that.

The car rolled to a stop, and he sat quiet, staring out into the blackness before us. The headlights cast shadows against thick trees, giant crawling arms swayed and stretched outward, eager to snatch me up.

The engine hummed softly, creating voices and sounds that were only in my head. I heard my sister scream again, I heard my mother calling out for help when she finally got herself loose. I heard my heartbeat and my lungs as they pounded so fiercely my eardrums rang with the worst music ever.

I kept tugging my hands, spinning them around and around, hoping they would break free. My skin burned as if I had just stuffed my hands into a bee hive, but I didn't care. I wasn't going to stop trying.

Dane turned the car off, cutting out the lights. The blackness folded over me like a thick blanket, pressing on my chest. I chose not to speak, I chose to not give him the pleasure of hearing my voice, hearing me beg or curse. But not being able to see him, not knowing what he was doing. . .

Have you ever felt pure terror?

It's not just a feeling, it's in all your muscles, turning them to stone. It's in your brain, making you to forget how to breathe. And when that passes, when fear turns to panic and you're shaking so violently, so uncontrollably, that you feel weak and frail. . .

That was me.

A cold breeze sprawled over my body as he opened the door, forcing a subtle gasp to escape my lungs.

“This place brings back memories.” His voice cut through the darkness, slicing the air into thin strips. “When I was a kid, my father used to the pack the car on a long weekend, and drive me and my brother up here to go fishing.” Dane sat in silence as his breathing turned heavy. “I used to hate it back then, it was boring as fuck. But now this place is different, I have good memories to come back to, all those girls, all the screams and cries that I pretended were you. . . But this, having you here, it changes everything. This place just got ten times better.”

The door creaked open wider and shut with a gentle pop, leaving me alone inside a cocoon that felt more like a coffin than a safety barrier.

My eyes scanned the darkness, unable to focus on anything but the bright snaps of color left over from the dashboard lights.

I have to get out, I need to get the fuck out of here!

Yanking one last time, I felt my left hand break free, releasing the tension between my wrists.

Where is he? Which way did he go?

Slowing down my breathing, I tried to listen for him. I couldn't hear footsteps or talking, I couldn't hear him walking around the car or the sound of his heart that beat black death through his veins.

The wind whipped around outside, cracking limbs and rustling leaves. It whirred through the thin cracks in the windows and zipped under the car, whistling across metal pipes and the rusty frame.

Just go! Run, Locke! Run!

Forcing one last deep breath in through my nose, I held the handle in my fingers and counted inside my head. One. . . Two. . . Three!

Throwing the door open, I let my bare feet hit the harsh dirt floor, and I ran. I ran as fast as I could, I ran as if it was the last time I would ever have use of my legs.

And if he got me, if he caught me. . . I knew I wouldn't be wrong.

“Where are you going?” Dane called out, his tone playful and teasing. “Time is ticking, Hanna, run run run as fast as you can!”

Night had swooped down and swallowed the forest around me. Holding my hands up in front of my face, I kept charging forward. Branches slapped my cheeks, they sliced my skin and whipped my legs.

But I didn't look back, I didn't stop.

I couldn't feel the ground beneath my feet, I couldn't feel the cold air or the harsh smack of barbs and thorns, limbs and leaves. I was numb from the inside out, lost in an upside down world where paranoia wasn't just in my head, it had become reality all over again.

His voice echoed through the trees, surrounding me as I kept pressing forward. “I guess you haven't forgotten about me! You can run, but don't get excited, I'm coming for you! Hanna can't win tonight, not this time!”

My legs stumbled over fallen branches, kicking sharp rocks and prickly pine needles.

He's wrong. He's the one who's going to lose.

My entire life had led up to this moment. Every nightmare, every look over my shoulder and wall I created; it all came down to this, to right then.

Running never felt more welcomed.