Billionaire Protector - Alexa Hart Page 0,7

to hunt it out myself – and I couldn’t see Randall ever going that far into the woods alone anyway. Big, tough man that he was, he hated the Tennessee mountains, and he hated the woods even more. The only way I’d even been able to spend any time alone at all in this environment – finding that tucked-away, nearly invisible haven that would be the beginning of our freedom – was to tell Randall I was going to the local church’s women’s group.

I’d told him that they were teaching me how to be a better wife (we weren’t even married), how to be a better servant to him – that the elder women knew what an old-fashioned man expected in his domain. Randall had loved the idea of being labeled the king of the castle and having a troop of religious old women to support him in this fantasy. He’d never been to a church in his entire life and neither had I. But the “God-fearing, husband pleasing woman” bit had him hook, line, and sinker – just as I had known that it would.

Randall’s ego was his Achilles heel.

And so, twice a week, I had two hours to get to the state park, explore the depths of the forest and the unforgiving cliffs of the Great Smoky Mountains as much as I dared to, and seek out that first hidden shelter which would be the starting point of a new life for Murphy and I. Randall would assume us dead. I knew he would. Anyone would. The trails in these parts weren’t meant to be left. Warning signs were everywhere – little stick figures displaying the dangers that awaited those who didn’t heed caution. The signs had often made me angry. They had no idea what dangers awaited me if I didn’t wander away from the safety of the trail.

I’d been scared at first – terrified that a park ranger would find me and put an end to my extra-curricular activities. Even worse, that a park ranger would find me, see whatever the most recent injury to my face was, and put two and two together. They always wanted to help. “They” – the great amalgamation of humanity. But experience had taught me that a trip to the police station – a restraining order – even a few days of Randall in jail – all of the “help” I’d received had only ever made things worse. There was no stopping Randall. He knew it. I knew it.

I had to disappear.

And lucky for me, unless they had reason to, it didn’t seem like the rangers traveled up the trails too incredibly far. So, after weeks of careful searching, I’d found it.

Now I just had to get us to it.

I’d underestimated two things that, in hindsight, were incredibly obvious. Number one, assuming Murphy would be able to stay quiet. He was three. Even under the best of circumstances, silence wasn’t something he was ever going to win a gold medal for. The falls, my panic, the fact that we were eventually running through thick encasements of trees – the branches smacking our faces and legs – it had all worked together to wholly freak him out. He was nearly howling.

My second misconception had been the belief that Randall wouldn’t put in any great amount of energy searching for us in such a landscape. He was abusive – evil – and I was positively sure at this point that he absolutely hated me (would even be glad if I were dead). But – we were his. We were property. He wasn’t just going to shrug it off when he returned to an abandoned picnic blanket. And whatever fears he had of the forest and the mountains in general were overridden by the adrenaline that his rage had pumped into his veins.

I could hear him trampling through the woods – branches breaking and his distant, angry yells getting closer and closer... He didn’t have a frantic three-year-old to carry. He was a big man with nothing weighing him down except for his violent mania; and frankly, that seemed to actually be making him faster.

“You poisoned me, you bitch! I know you fucking poisoned me!”

Closer. The spot was getting closer. But so was Randall.

“You won’t get away, Valerie! I can fucking hear you! Give me back my goddamn son! You scheming fucking bitch!”

He was going to catch us. He was going to catch us and probably kill me out here in the fucking