Chapter 22- Callie

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         The mud squelching underfoot is going to be a pain to wash off my shoes later. The rain is more mist than anything and I desperately needed this. I can figure out an alternative if it gets any heavier, but the forecast is leaning toward this being as bad as it'll get. Cover from the trees helps and with my hood up, I can barely feel the water kissing my skin.

Fresh forest air is exactly what I needed. A small drive is nothing when compared with the relief I get from running out here with just the birds and squirrels keeping me company. I'm sure if I think about it too long, I'll come up with a whole list of other creatures that are probably hiding in the trees and growth, but my peace is worth more than the anxiety and fear that thought trail leads down. Besides, if anything bigger than a squirrel comes for me, I have my pepper spray and a knife. Well, a few knives. If it can't be handled by either of those, I die and it's not my problem anymore. Perhaps that's a bit too pessimistic of me, but my mind has become a bit of a dark place.

I keep a steady pace as I run along the well-worn trail, doing my best to dodge the few fallen twigs and small branches from the other day's storm. I brought my headphones along, but the nature around me is such a soothing soundtrack, it would feel blasphemous to tune it out.

There's no set distance on my run today. I just plan to keep an eye on the weather, my snacks and water in my little backpack, and my body. No pressure of commitments. It's one of the only benefits to having just one friend to rely on. Small circle for the win, though with only Nicole and I it's more of a pitiful oval shape.

After a while, my legs are warm and each footfall no longer feels like a chore. My breathing has stopped sounding like I'm minutes away from an asthma attack, each inhale a fight. My muscles are loose and I feel good. Suspiciously good. That's usually my signal to start heading back. Every time I ignore it and keep pushing myself, I regret it the next day. The last thing I want to deal with when Rivers shows up is dead legs that no amount of Epsom salt baths and icy hot can fix.

Crack.

I pause, lifting my head and taking a cool drink from my pack as I listen intently. Nothing. A quick look around shows the trail empty except for me. I passed a few mountain bikers and an older couple hiking earlier, but it's been relatively empty since. Just me, the birds, and the squirrels.

I bend over and double check my shoes are tied tight, run my fingers along the small blade hidden by my socks. I have another tucked at my waist and one in my jacket pocket. A girl can never have too many knives, plus they came in a set and it felt wrong to separate them. If my time with the guys and Colt taught me anything, it's to always be prepared for anything. Now I am.

Deep breaths in. Slow exhale out.

I shoot off back towards the parking lot. A quick glance at my smart watch shows it's a lot further off than I had hoped. A mix of running and walking on the way in has me five miles away. I bet if I had put on some music, I could have easily run a half marathon. Now that's a goal I can aspire to. In my mind's eye, I can see my friends and family on the sideline. Okay, Aunt Rachel standing between Maya and Mr. Miller, Nicole holding some ridiculous sign shouting my praises, and the guys at my side. Maybe. It's a beautiful image and I wish I could make it real.

Too much focus on a dream and not the trail has me eating dirt. Hard. I swear that root came out of nowhere and wrapped itself over my foot. My chin hits the ground first and my teeth slam down on my tongue, piercing it. It hwurts, a lot more than I want to admit. The coppery tang of blood fills my mouth and I spit it out, standing up shakily and brushing myself off as best as I can. Mud and leaves cling to my clothes and my hands, but at least it's not pouring so parts of the ground were more solid than others.

Crack.

There's no way I imagined that one. Unless some squirrel went to town on some nuts this winter and grew to human size, I am not alone. "Hello," I can't help myself from asking even as I slide my hand down to my pocket.

Silence.

The goosebumps on my skin agree with the ever-increasing pace of my beating heart. Despite the answering silence, I am not alone. I can't put my finger on why I know it with absolute certainty; I just do. It's like knowing there's nothing good at the end of the dark alley at midnight. Some animal hindbrain sense leftover from our hunter gather ancestors yelling at me to get off my butt and run.

So, I do. Laughter and whoop of delight follow close behind along with heavy steps trampling the growth underfoot. I don't dare look behind me. I already fell once. I can't do it again with this person on my tail. None of their actions lead me to good options for their intentions.

My eyes shift left and right as I search in vain for someone else to be on the trail. The mist is picking up, turning less mist and more drizzle. I doubt my luck that it stays a drizzle. The view of the clouds that peeks between the treetops is grey and bleak.

He steps behind me pick up speed and my heart stutters with the realization that they weren't even trying to catch me before. I dig deep for another gear of speed. Dropping my pack would help, but it holds my keys, water, and snacks. Outrunning him won't help if I'm stuck out here.

I don't even know for certain it's a him. Though that laugh and statistics lean that way. I pull my blade from my pocket and clutch it tightly as I push my body faster, shaking off his dark chuckle at my actions. The steps that were twenty feet away creep closer until they're practically on top of me.

Outrunning him is no longer an option so I stop suddenly, whirl around with my pack loose on one shoulder, and body slam him with it. He falls back to the ground and I don't allow myself time to think, following him down with my blade raised high.

"Completely worth the mud in unmentionable places," he says as he stares up at me with darkened eyes that are filled with what can only be described as adoration and lust. "Planning on using that Bambi or is it just for decoration?"

I scream as I stab it into the ground beside his face. "I could have killed you," I hiss.

"Doubtful," he says dismissively. "I had plenty of time to move out of the way while you hesitated."

"I only hesitated because it was you!"

"The why isn't important. Your action, or in this case inaction is. Still I do have to appreciate your efforts to better protect yourself. You've come a long way from the girl who crumbled in my arms after our little game. A worthy prey with her own set of fangs." His hand rips down my hood, tangling in my ponytail as he pulls me down closer. His other reaches up, flexing his arm as he pulls my blade from the ground, wiping it off on my bag and twirling it between his fingers. "Too dirty to play with now," he chides, pocketing it.

"The others told me to lay low, but I got bored. Anything could happen to a young woman running alone. It would be irresponsible of me to not be here." His free hand roams my body until he finds my second blade with a devilish grin. He shoves away the back separating us. "You are mine. Mine to hunt, to hurt, to own," he whispers as he teases the blade along my spine. Despite the drizzling raindrops falling on us, all I can feel is electric heat where he touches.

"Want to try again Bambi? I'll give you a head start."

I sit up slowly as he removes the blade from my back. Hands in the air, he watches as I search his face for any hint of deception. "What are you doing Jaxson?"

"You know, I missed the sound of my name falling from your lips. Though if we do this right, you won't have the energy for much talking at all. Double tap and I'll stop."

"Huh?"

"Double tap Bambi. Better run quick. Because this time when I catch you, I'm not letting you go."

I turn on my heel and sprint into the trees.

"Bambi, bambi. Don't get too near for there's lions. Beware," he sings hauntingly as I run further away from his voice.

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