by Jamie Begley
“Hi,” Jessie greeted with a friendly smile as she moved around her to reach inside the dryer that was next to hers.
“Hi.” The polite smile she received in return didn’t surprise her. They had seen each other a couple of times as they passed each other on the outside landing of the building, but the woman had always hurried away before any attempt at conversation.
“Sucks having to wash clothes on a Friday, doesn’t it?” Jessie asked, dropping another coin in.
“Yes, I hope I didn’t hold you up using the machine I was using. I was watching a movie and lost track of time.”
“You’re good. I only needed two, and they were open.” Turning toward her, Jessie held out her hand. “I’m Jessie.”
The woman removed her hand from the dryer. “I’m Tori.”
“It’s nice to meet you. You’re new to town, aren’t you?”
“It’s nice to meet you, too.” Removing her hand, Tori went back to putting her laundry in a basket that she had carried in with her. “I moved in a month ago.”
Jessie sat down on the metal chair that was propping the laundry room door open. “You have family in town?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
Tori gave her a quizzical look as she closed the dryer then picked up her basket. “Why?”
“Because you’re definitely not from Kentucky, or you would have told me your life story in sixty seconds or less.”
Her lips twitched. “I’m finding that out.”
“You’ll also find out that most of the town is trying to figure out who you are. Most of them think you’re on the run from an ex or a celebrity who’s hiding from the media.”
Tori’s eyes widened in shock at the revelation. “Seriously?”
Jessie nodded. “The rumor going around the diner is you’re a model.”
“What do you think?” Tori’s lips curled in her first real smile.
“I think you’re the new librarian who’s taking over for Ms. Riley at the school. She’s due any day, and the school board has been trying to replace her since she decided to stay home after she has the baby.”
“How did you find out?”
“The modelling almost suckered me in, but I happen to work with your realtor’s wife,” she confessed.
The townspeople’s tongues had been wagging the moment the beautiful woman had shopped at the market. Jessie could practically describe everything that Tori purchased since it had been mentioned so many times. She had bought enough for everyone to know she wasn’t passing through, and then her being seen moving into the apartment had only increased their curiosity. That she was so attractive added more interest to their speculations.
Her height had everyone believing she was a model, but Jessie thought she was an inch or two shy for that to be true. Her spiraled, ash-brown curls fell to her shoulders, and the pale purple tank top and shorts accentuated the caramel skin tone of her shoulders and legs. But it was the aloof way she carried herself that was preventing people in town from approaching her.
Jessie didn’t let her attitude hinder her from getting acquainted. She dealt with attitudes every day.
“Any luck with the house hunting?”
“Not yet. Everything I’ve seen so far is too large or too small. I need to find something soon, or I’m going to have to sign another lease for the apartment, which I really don’t want to do. I want my washer and dryer, so I don’t have to resort to washing my clothes during the middle of the night just to get a free washer.”
“Friday nights are the best. Sunday mornings aren’t bad either. I could talk to Ned and see if I can get you more time. I watch his son at my daycare. I can talk to him on Monday if you want.”
“I would appreciate it.”
“Just being neighborly with a fellow Friday night washing machine buddy.” Making light of the favor, Jessie then asked, “But could you do me a favor in return?”
Tori’s face went aloof again since the friendly gesture came with strings.
“Until you find a place, do you mind not looking so gorgeous when you’re washing clothes? You’re giving me a complex in my old T-shirt and ratty sweatpants.”
Tori’s amusement had her giving her a once-over before confessing, “Mine are in the load I just washed.”
“Damn, nice and pretty.” Jessie shook her head in mock sadness. “I’ll never get a man with you in competition. You sure you want to stay in town? Usually, people are leaving Treepoint, not moving in.”
Her amusement deepened. “I’m sure.”
“Then you want to come over sometime? I make a killer glass of iced tea.”
“I’d like that.”
Jessie stood up when she heard the dinging signaling her clothes were done. “Stop over anytime. I’m usually home after seven on weekdays and after one on weekends.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. It was nice meeting you.”
“You, too, Tori.”
Jessie picked up her basket, carrying it to the dryer and humming since she was alone again. Reaching inside the machine for a lone bra that was refusing to budge, she heard someone come inside the room. Pulling her head out of the dryer, she figured Tori had forgotten something. It took her a second to process the familiar face of the terror-stricken woman who was frantically looking around the laundry room wasn’t Tori, and that she was trying to hide from someone.
“What’s wrong …?”
Jessie’s mouth snapped closed in alarm as a man ran inside, his furious gaze switching from the woman too terrified to move to narrowing his eyes on her.
Primal instinct warned her that she wouldn’t be getting out the room unscratched.
“I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t care. I just want to leave,” she told him, angry at herself that she left her phone in her apartment. She was determined to knock on the first door she came to, to call Knox.
Jessie felt a wave of terror that she had never felt in her whole life when he lifted the aluminum chair, allowing the door to close.
She hadn’t been raised a Hayes to wait for the first punch. Running toward the door, Jessie tried to use her shoulder to give herself enough room to get out. However, she had underestimated the furiosity of the man who had closed them in. It was a mistake she wouldn’t be given time to regret as the chair was swung at her head.
Jessie screamed, trying to dodge it, but she couldn’t. When she felt it hit her in the side of the head, a blinding pain had her falling limply to the floor.
Forcing herself to roll over despite the pain, she desperately raised her hands as she saw the chair coming down on her. The agonizing pain of being hit again left her defenseless, succumbing to the enveloping darkness that eagerly waited to embrace her.
Jessie heard the plaintive cry again, dragging her reluctantly awake.
“I’m coming.” The voice that came out of her mouth didn’t sound like hers.
Confused as to who was crying, Jessie tried to make herself rise. Had she nodded off during the children’s naptime?
Hearing the whimpers again, Jessie tried to get her feet under her, becoming scared when they couldn’t hold her up. Frowning, she tried to raise her eyes to see who needed her attention and why she couldn’t get strength in her legs. She was bewildered when she couldn’t raise her lids, yet she could feel the sun beating down on her.
She brought her hands to her eyes, puzzled at the thick clump preventing her from seeing who was crying.
“Hush, baby, I’m coming,” she soothed, wincing at the rawness in her voice.
She brushed at the clump sealing her lashes closed. She needed a wet cloth …
The crying increased, making her desperate to see who was making the pathetic sounds of misery. Not knowing what else to do, she lowered her hand to her T-shirt, tugging upward to spit on it. The dribble she produced wasn’t much, and it sent a burning sensation through her throat.
She raised the shirt to her eyes, trying to remove the dried glob. A spec
k of light began to appear. Working up enough spit so she could wet another spot, she was eventually able to work both her eyes open. The pain almost made her stop to take a rest, but she couldn’t bear the sound of one of the children in her care crying out in need.
Slowly opening her eyes, Jessie looked around, blinking at the blurry rocks and trees surrounding her. Disoriented, she couldn’t understand where she was.
Her survival instincts forced her erratic breathing to slow and allowed her to get her bearings.
Several heart-pounding moments passed before she could grasp that she was alone on a rocky mountainside and the cries had come from her. She was so high up that she could look down and see the tops of trees below her. The only thing that had stopped her fall had been a large rock that her tennis shoe was caught on. The pounding in her head warned her not to look up to see if she could scoot upward.
“Be calm … Just be calm,” she encouraged herself. The first thing she needed to do was get her foot free.
As she reached for her foot, it dawned on her that she wasn’t wearing pants. Jerking her hand back, she brought it to her hip, discovering she was only wearing panties.
Sobbing, she laid her aching head on her knee. Taking deep breaths of air, she tried to remember falling. She knew for damn sure she hadn’t gone out hiking in only a thin T-shirt, panties, and tennis shoes.
As her mind drew a blank, she took several more deep breaths to calm herself.
Self-preservation was something her brother had told her about when she was just a little girl and he had sneaked her out to go hunting with him. She had strayed off the path he warned her to stay on and had gotten snarled in one of the traps that her pa had set to keep the Porters off their property.
“Help me, Holt!”
Holt leaned down, laying his shotgun on his knees as he watched her struggle out of the barb wire.
“Stay still!” His harsh command had her immediately moving. “Get yourself out.”
Dumbstruck that her big brother wasn’t helping, she started crying and yelling for Asher.
“Jessie, listen to me.”
Hearing the grim tone, she stilled.
“You want to know what makes some people survive in accidents and others die in the same accident?”
“How?”
“They used their heads and didn’t panic. Think about how you’re going to get out of the barb wire and do it. Asher and I won’t always be around when you’re in trouble; you have to know how to handle it when you are.”
It had taken over an hour to get out of the trap, and the experience and others that both Asher and Holt had made her go through were going to make it possible to get out of this mess!
The thought of her brothers being heartbroken if she died out here alone spurred her on. Gritting her teeth, she used her foot to push the rock off her shoe. It took several tries before it budged, sending the rock and smaller ones tumbling down the steep mountain. Managing to hold on to a smaller tree, she kept herself from falling over after it.
Gasping, she wiggled her foot, relieved that only the shoe had been caught.
“What should we do, Jessie? Should we go up or down?” Placing a hand on her forehead, she turned slightly to be able to look up. Bile rose in her throat at how far she had fallen. Had she been in a car wreck and thrown from the car? That didn’t explain why she was in her panties, nor did she see the wreckage of a car below her.
“Down it is.” The sound of her voice somehow gave her assurance that she wasn’t alone.
Shimmying down, she carefully began working her way down the mountainside as rocks and twigs scraped the back of her legs and bottom, but she didn’t stop.
The journey down was excruciatingly slow. She thought to yell out for help in case someone was looking for her. However, a sixth sense she had never experienced before warned her to be silent and to get where she couldn’t be seen.
Halfway down, she stopped to rest, tugging at the bottom of her T-shirt to wipe the sweat off her forehead that had been irritating her. Trying to focus her blurry vision, she registered it was covered in dried blood. Stifling the surprised scream at the discovery made her even more wary not to be seen.
She gingerly managed to get her shirt over her head, turning it inside out to wipe her sticky forehead. Seeing the wet stain of red nearly had her keeling over.
Lying back on the rocks behind her, she let her equilibrium right itself, thinking inanely that at least she had been smart enough to wear a bra under her shirt.
When she thought she could continue without passing out, she put her shirt back on. It wasn’t much, but she needed the protection from the scrapes and tears that her bottom half was experiencing.
“A couple more feet,” she encouraged herself, repeating the refrain over and over until she reached the mossy ground where she could stand.
Whimpering, she grabbed a hazy tree trunk, wrapping her arms around it as if it was a long-lost relative. Biting her tears back, she looked around, trying to determine what she should do next. A rush of vertigo struck as she tried to focus her eyes, creating a chain reaction that had her wanting to vomit and fighting off the dry heaves as she clutched on to the tree with a death grip.
The trees were so thick that she couldn’t see if anyone was living nearby, nor could she figure out which mountain she was on. She had hiked most of the mountains where her family lived. Those trees were large and towering high, but not these impressive sizes.
Using her knowledge of the mountains around Treepoint left her with two choices—Pine Mountain or Black Mountain. If it was Pine Mountain, she stood the chance of finding a stray house that had been built out of sight. Those who lived there had lived there for generations and were so reclusive they would only come into town once a month for supplies; three times if it was during winter. There were also dozens of trails that drew weekend hikers and tourists to sightsee.
If she used all her luck at not being killed when she fell down the mountain, then she was in real trouble if she was on Black Mountain. The homes were even fewer and farther between; it had fewer hikers, and it was going to take longer to find someone to help her.
Looking upward, she saw that the sun was beginning its descent. She would walk as far as she could until she could find some cover for the night.
Pushing herself off the tree, she stumbled through the dead leaves and branches that littered the ground, keeping a wary eye out for snakes, both the slithering kind and those that walked on two feet.
As Jessie desperately searched for a place to rest, her blood started pumping furiously when she was hazily able to make out an old, broken-down house. She prudently walked to what was left of the small structure, jumping at the sound of the door scrapping open when she shoved at it with what little strength she had left. The floor was rotted through, and she heard the scamper of little furry feet as the floorboard creaked under her steps.
Her shoulders dropped. It was completely empty.
“What’d you expect, woman? A soda fountain?” Forcing back tears, she went back outside to search for two branches. Finding the size and lengths she wanted by touch, she went back inside. Using one, she braced the door closed. It wouldn’t keep anyone out, but it would give her time to react if anyone tried to enter.
Sitting down, she leaned against the wall that would hide her from view if the door was opened and gripped the other branch in her hands. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it was all she had.
She licked her dry lips, her head falling back as tears coursed down her cheeks. Every bone in her body hurt, and she was so thirsty her mouth felt like sandpaper. The thing that terrified her the most was that she would die out here alone and Holt and Asher wouldn’t know what had happened to her. Hell, she didn’t know what had happened.
As exhaustion and pain overtook her, she brushed dried leaves from the floorboard next to her and lay down, curling up in a ball as the night air grew colder.
“Now I lay me down to sleep,” she mumbled
out the children’s prayer she had learned in Sunday school as she began shivering. Raising her knees against her, she pulled the material of her shirt over her legs like a cocoon. “I pray the Lord my soul to keep. In the morning light, guide me home. Help those who love me find peace if I don’t return. And Lord, I promise I won’t hold it against You that the other two miracles I asked for didn’t happen if You decide to grant me this one. Amen.”
She closed her eyes as she thought about her brothers and friends that she was going to miss if the Lord took her. Another sob broke free as chestnut hair and amber eyes flashed in her mind. Growing colder, she pretended his arms were around her. She could almost feel him against her back.
Supporting her sore cheek under her arm on the dirty floor, feeling a tuft of hair against her skin. She reached out, imagining it was Dustin. When she realized what it was, the woods echoed with her screams until consciousness welcomed her back into his cold embrace.
5
Dustin woke from his nightmare knowing the person in his nightmare was dead. The beating he had imagined in his dream was too filled with fury and hatred. It had been like watching a movie, and when the final credits rolled across the screen, you knew it was over.
Shaking in the aftermath, he got out of bed to go into the kitchen for a glass of water. Drinking it, he poured himself another before going back to his bedroom. Raking a hand through his hair, he lay back down on his bed, wondering who the person was who died that night and wishing he could have prevented it. No one deserved to die like that.
In spite of the nightmare, he was so tired he found himself dozing off, fitfully tossing in his bed until he finally slipped into a deep slumber.
The next morning, he slept in late, only waking up when Logan jumped on his bed.
“You going to sleep all day?”
Dustin pulled his pillow out from underneath his head, putting it over his eyes. “Thinking about it,” he grumbled. “Why are you up so early?”
“It’s one o’clock.”
Dustin lifted the pillow to look at the alarm clock next to his bed. “I’ll give you ten dollars if you go back to bed,” he offered.