If Only She'd Loved Him

Chapter 80

Saturday 7:05 pm

Erik fingered the gun. He'd moved it from his back pocket to his front pocket for easy access. Even through his thick gloves, the barrel was cold. Good. If Megan was still out there, she'd be freezing and that would slow her down. He had been careful when he'd left the cabin and his caution had paid off. He hadn't just charged into the woods. Instead, he'd used his flashlight around the ground in front of him. Megan's footprints shone like they'd been painted in gold. Follow the yellow brick road. Erik began to track. It was easy, too easy at first. He could see her imprints clearly on the ground. They hadn't been washed away by the rain. Points for me, babe, he thought. When I left, it was pouring. If you had left then too, your path would have been washed away. That means you don't have that big a head start on me. You're dead. You just don't know it yet. Erik headed further in, ear cocked, always listening, fingers never more than an inch from the trigger of his gun. As Megan had gone deeper, the fallen leaves had hidden her footprints, but the broken branches led him on like a beacon.

How would he do it? Would he make her beg? Give her the dream that he might not pull the trigger, that he might forgive her? That he might forgive the pain and hurt that slashed through his soul like a knife dipped in acid. He felt his trigger again and discarded the idea. No, not his gun. He wanted to make it more personal than that. His hand drifted further down his pocket. The necklace brushed up against his fingertips. It would have looked so beautiful on her neck. Except her neck wasn't so beautiful anymore, not after the bruises he'd put on that soft skin, that so soft skin he'd buried his fingers into hours ago. Better he should just end it, he thought to himself. Let it go, let both of them go. He resumed his hunt, his flashlight searching relentlessly through the dark.