45
ADDIE
Everything hurt. It wasn’t just my stomach anymore. It was as if that pain had spread into every last millimeter of my body.
Every tiny move I made felt as if it would tear my skin wide open and make flames lash out. I was roasting from the inside out. Fever, I knew. Infection.
Cybil hadn’t dealt with my wound like she should’ve. The first day I’d cleaned it the best I could, but there must’ve been something inside. I needed real medical care. It would never happen. I wasn’t even sure how long I’d been here. I thought it was just over two days, but it might’ve been three. It could’ve been even longer.
I rolled to my side, crying out. My vision went a little wonky, and a memory slammed into me. Cool hands on my forehead. “I’m sorry, Little Mouse. I can’t do this anymore.”
Tears slipped down my cheeks. If my mother were still here, would she have raised a hand to save me? Another memory pricked at the edges of my mind. A scream. A thump. Me trying to get out of bed to see, but being too weak to make it. My father coming into the room with juice.
It was all in flashes. Some part of me knew I was combining different memories, but something felt just out of reach.
The door to my room flew open, hitting the wall. I jolted, sending more pain radiating over my skin and through my stomach.
“Get up. We need to hurry.” My father moved around the room, grabbing my pair of hiking boots and socks.
I blinked a few times. “What?”
“Get up,” he barked.
“I can’t.” The words were a struggle to even get out of my throat.
He pulled a gun from his waistband and leveled it at me. “A contact told me a search warrant is being served on this property in an hour. If you don’t move, I’ll shoot you where you lay. You don’t get to leave, not again.”
The even coldness in my father’s voice told me it was the truth. He couldn’t handle that I was happy away from here. That I was free. It took a few tries, but I finally sat up. I stared him dead in the eyes. “You’ll have to drive me or put me on a horse. I can’t walk.”
The faintest embers of hope lit inside me. Maybe, just maybe, I could break away.
My father cursed and dropped the shoes in front of me. “Meet me out back. I’ll have the horses ready.”
He disappeared, and I bent to pull on the socks. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. If I could barely put on shoes, how would I mount a horse? Maybe I could get the keys for one of the trucks while he was getting the horses ready.
I struggled to my feet and hurried to the door. As I made my way down the hall, Cybil stepped into view. She glared at me. “Your father thought you might do something stupid.”
Of course, he did. “I’m simply going downstairs like he asked.”
“I’ll escort you.”
Sure, she would—right off a cliff.
With each step, it felt as if my stitches were ripping wide open. I wasn’t sure how long I could hold on until unconsciousness claimed me again.
Finally, I made it to the back deck. I had to grip the railing to keep from falling over.
“Stop being such a pansy and get on that horse,” Cybil ordered.
I looked up to find my father on one horse while another was tied to his saddle. So much for getting free on horseback.
“Get her a mounting block, Cybil,” he ordered.
She hissed at me but rounded the house to retrieve one as I slowly made my way down the stairs. My fingers gripped the rail so tightly, my knuckles bleached white. By the time I made it to the horses, Cybil had dropped the block in front of the chestnut gelding I was to ride.
“Here,” she muttered, holding out a hand.
I didn’t let my pride allow me to refuse her. The truth was I’d topple over without something to hold on to. I held her hand until I could grasp the saddle horn. I swung my leg over and couldn’t hold in my cry of pain this time.