My muscles relax as I exhale, a buzz flowing through my veins as I sag back against the tree with a lazy smile playing on my lips.
This is better than listening to whomever get their rocks off upstairs.
I can’t have taken any more than four hits, my body beginning to shiver violently against the cold, my teeth chattering, when a rustling and then a crack sounds out behind me.
My heart jumps into my throat and I freeze, my body trembling but not just from the cold this time.
What the fuck was I thinking, coming out here in the dead of night?
It’s just an animal.
Just a fox.
A badger.
A…
The footsteps come closer, and any high I’d got from the joint seems to vanish as my fear takes over.
I’m going to die out here. Alone. In my pyjamas.
Damn it, I don’t even have underwear on.
What is it that most normal mothers tell their daughters? Make sure you always go out with clean knickers in case you end up in hospital.
Or give easy access to the psychotic rapist who’s about to attack you.
Whatever it is is right on the other side of the tree now.
I glance to the side and see a puff of cold air.
Fuck.
It really is a person.
Or a bear. In the Essex countryside… unlikely.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I squeeze my eyes tight, not wanting to look at my killer. Not wanting to remember my final moment at the hands of whoever is about to slit my throat or…
A figure looms over me. Even with my eyes closed, I see the shadow of his body as he blocks the moonlight.
A whimper threatens to rip up my throat as I summon the courage to open my eyes and stop being such a pussy.
I wouldn’t be this pathetic if I weren’t already halfway stoned, I’m sure of it.
But then his scent hits me and my eyes fly open.
“What the fuck are you—”
His hand clamps down over my mouth, stopping my shrill screeching.
“Shut up, Hellcat. Unless you want daddy dearest down here,” he warns.
“Me?” I hiss behind his hand. “You should be the one who—” His hand tightens, stopping me from issuing my own warning about the reason my dad and the others really don’t want to find him here.
I narrow my eyes at him, silently asking the millions of questions that are on the tip of my tongue but unable to spill free.