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She debated going back so Summer wouldn’t face his wrath alone, but she knew she couldn’t. Their only hope was finding help.

So, she ran.

She knew that he was following her. He was out here in the woods with her. Chasing her. And when he caught her … she shuddered at the thought. She didn't want to think about what he would do to her before he killed her. She'd seen what he did, all the blood.Somuch blood.

How could she have thought she was in love with him? He was psychotic. Sadistic. Evil. And he was out there somewhere.

Branches ripped at her skin as she ran. She'd lost a shoe somewhere, rocks and sticks stabbed her bare foot with each step she took, but she was eternally grateful that he had redressed her after he’d raped her, otherwise she would be running around half-naked in the snow.

Her head still ached from the drugs he'd given her, but she wouldn't stop for anything. If she didn't find help before he found her, the man she had dreamed about spending her life with would murder her.

Thunder rolled in the distance and following it a couple of seconds later came a huge, bright bolt of lightning. It momentarily lit the dark night and she saw him. Standing just yards away.

He saw her too.

Although she knew she shouldn’t, she screamed.

Hope started running, but she could hear his footsteps pounding behind her.

A moment later, he was on her. He tackled her and she landed hard. Momentarily winded, by the time she recovered he was jabbing something sharp into her arm.

Moving.

She was moving.

Well, maybe someone was moving her?

She had an odd feeling of floating. Like someone was carrying her.

Her stomach swirled, her head pounded, and every inch of her body ached.

She remembered …

She remembered …

Running? Thunder? Lightning?Him? A jab in her arm?

Was that a unicorn flying past?

No, it couldn't be. Could it?

And over there, was that Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny having a pool party?

Something was wrong with her.

The jab? Drugged?

It was like she was here, but she wasn't here.

Laughing. Was someone laughing?

“They say you don’t dream in cryosleep.”

What? That made no sense. Or did it?

She was falling.

She landed awkwardly, and pain shot up her spine.


Tags: Jane Blythe Storybook Murders Romance