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Auctioned to Him 3: Back to the Yacht by Charlotte Byrd (178)

Chapter 41

About a mile down the road, I start to waver on my decision to leave in such haste. I tried to call a cab, but I didn’t realize it until after I left that I have absolutely no reception out here. Not even one bar! Still, I can’t go back. Simon’s insistence on me staying scared me. If I wasn’t sure about leaving beforehand, I certainly was after. There’s a lot I don’t know about him and I had no business coming out here with him.

I remember what I heard a while ago about women and intuition. Apparently, women have great intuition. The problem is that they often don’t listen to it and don’t act accordingly to it because of a variety of factors. They don’t want to hurt someone’s feelings. They feel embarrassed. They think that it’s illogical. It doesn’t make any sense.

From now on, I’m going to listen to my intuition a lot more, I decide. If I had listened to it earlier, I wouldn’t be in this mess.

The road’s winding and lit only by the blue light from the moon. But moonlight doesn’t penetrate every bend; the trees hugging both sides of the road block most of it.

The scent of pine is no longer inviting and comforting. Instead, I’m starting to get scared. I haven’t been scared of the dark since I was six years old, but alone in the woods, all my old fears creep in. I turn on my phone. I still have plenty of battery left. I click on the flashlight button and the bright LED brings me some relief.

One car drives past me. And then another. A few minutes later, another. They all slow down when they see me. Again, shivers run up my spine. I shouldn’t have stayed up late watching a marathon of old Dateline programs last night on YouTube. All those murder mysteries, which seemed so interesting when I was in the safety of my bed, now seem terrifying. College girl walking down an abandoned country road all alone. I can just hear Keith Morrison’s soothing but sinister voice narrating my crime story.

“Okay, okay. You can’t think like this,” I say out loud. “The train station is 3 miles away from the cabin, you only have, what, 2 more to go? You can do this. Nothing’s going to happen. Just stop freaking yourself out.”

I look at my phone again. There’s something comforting about it even though I don’t have a signal. It’s way out. My lifeline. I thank God that the directions to the train station are still cached on the maps screen. Otherwise, I’d be totally fucked.

A car pulls up next to me. I don’t hear it until the driver honks the horn.

Beep. Beep.

Fuck. It’s Simon. He has found me. There’s no way I’m getting into his car. I look around before turning to face him. What can I do? I can run into the woods, I decide. He’ll have to first realize what I’ve done. And if he wants to follow me, he’ll have to pull over, park the car, get out and then run after me. That will give me a good running start.

No matter what you do, don’t get into that car, I whisper silently to myself. If that’s one thing that I’ve learned from all those crime shows is that it all goes to hell when the girl gets into the car.

“Alice!” I don’t believe what I hear. The voice is definitely not Simon’s. But it can’t be who I think it is. Can it?

I turn around. My ears weren’t lying. It is Tristan.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. The cold air nips at my throat. I pull my coat closed at my neck, wishing that I hadn’t forgotten to pack my scarf.

“Get in,” he says. “It’s freezing out there.”

I want to. Really badly. It is freezing, colder than freezing, probably. But I’m mad at him. And he still hasn’t answered my question.

I shake my head. I’ve had enough of guys bossing me around for today. I continue walking, well aware of that fact that it’s my pride that’s keeping me out of his car. Not any intuition. Tristan’s a great guy and he’d never make me feel uncomfortable. He’d break my heart and make me wish that I was dead, but he would never scare me.

He drives slowly alongside of me.

“C’mon, Alice. Stop fucking around. Get in,” he says through the rolled down window.

I shake my head.

“Why are you here?” I yell. Partly because of the howling wind. And partly because I’m mad at him. “Are you stalking me?”

“Why are you here?” he yells back. Clearly, not answering my questions. “If you’re having such a good time with Simon, why are you walking down the road all alone in the middle of the night?”

Fuck you!”

“C’mon, Alice. Please, get in.” The tone in his voice changes. He’s pleading now. But my heart remains cold. My pride stands strong.

“I don’t need you to stalk me, Tristan. I’m fine,” I say.

I expect our banter to keep going until I reach the train station. I can use an escort. It is cold and dark and windy. And I am scared of being all alone out here. But then it doesn’t.

“Fine,” Tristan yells and drives away. The screeching of the tires as he pulls away breaks my heart.

“No, no, no,” I say, watching him disappear into the darkness. “Please don’t go.”

But I don’t run after the car. I stop, stand there like a statue. Unable to move. A feeling of inevitable doom spreads through my body. Regret. Why didn’t I just get into his car? Why did I have to be so stupid? He came all the way here. He was here to help. He loves you. Why did I have to be so cold? So unforgiving? A million other things that I should’ve said and done run through my mind.

I look out into the distance. Waiting for him to return. But he doesn’t. He’s gone. Really gone.

I take a deep breath.

You can only depend on yourself in life. There’s no one else. Definitely not some guy.

A set of headlights from across the road blinds me and disappears. The car makes a u-turn across the road and pulls up next to me.

“Tea and I broke up,” Tristan yells through the open window.

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