Patil was trying to save my life, and I close my eyes, breathing in the scent of pine and distant snow. The hospital Clint took me to is a good twenty miles away from our small town, but no matter where I go, I can always smell the mountains. The mountains steady me. They stand over my little piece of Montana like sentinels in the distance, proof that the wind can scream and storms can rage, but they will never bend.
The alarm chirps on Uncle Clint’s maroon Chevy Silverado. He’s already in the cab behind the wheel by the time I manage to haul myself into the passenger seat. My limbs are ready to give in, my body ready to crumple into a ball and sleep. Climbing into his ridiculously jacked up truck hurts almost as much as the fall did.
He jams his key in the ignition and turns on the car. Classic country blares from the speakers, and Uncle Clint turns the music down enough for me to hear him say, “You did good, girl.”
My stomach turns. I don’t respond, turning away from him and tucking myself against the passenger side door to put as much distance between us as possible.
I stay that way as he turns the music back up and begins to drive. It’s back roads all the way home, twenty miles but thirty minutes accounting for stop signs and wildlife. Neither of us speak, but I can’t get Doctor Patil’s knowing gray eyes out of my head. I keep going over the entire visit with a fine-toothed comb, wondering if I could have done something differently this time.
If I’d been braver or smarter, maybe I could have ended this nightmare. Instead, I’m barreling back toward my prison without an end in sight.
Hot tears prick my eyes.
Dammit. I hate feeling so fucking helpless.
I’m watching the trees pass like ghosts in the darkness along the side of the road when my uncle suddenly slams on the brakes. The truck’s tires lock up as it skids to a stop, the lighter bed fishtailing sideways so that we come to a rest across both lanes of the empty road.
A deer is standing outside the arc of the headlights. The angle we’ve come to rest at puts him just beyond my door. He’s massive, all muscle and antlers, more regal than anything I’ve ever seen. His eyes glint in the moonlight as he stares at the truck, still as a statue.
Then he turns and bolts off into the night.
“Son of a fucking bitch!” Uncle Clint roars, slamming a hand to the steering wheel. “These goddamn deer! Almost ruined my fucking truck.”
His blow and raised voice send terror shooting through me, and I press closer to the door, making as much space between us as I can.
My uncle grumbles something else about his precious Silverado, but I don’t hear him. Adrenaline rushes through my veins as I watch the deer disappear into the trees, and a strange feeling washes over me.
Mr. Maddock? Could you give me and Sable a moment alone?
He tried to help me.
Doctor Patil tried to help, and I didn’t even take the chance that he might be able to.
When will my next chance be? How many more chances will I get before my uncle kills me?
I’m eighteen. What will my life look like when I’m twenty? Twenty-five?
Uncle Clint will never let me go. He hates me too much, and he’s too fucking sadistic to ever let me leave his house in one piece.
But I’m not in his house right now.
In this moment, the only thing standing between me and freedom is this car door.
A wave of absolute clarity washes over me, making all the blood in my body turn to ice. It’s now or never.
So I throw myself out the door and take my chance, sprinting off after the deer.
2
Sable
I sprint like I don’t have a twisted ankle and a sprained wrist. I sprint like I’m not covered in painful bruises with the energy level of a factory in nuclear meltdown. Because this is it—this is my only chance to get away from him once and for all, and I will not fail.
Because if I do, he’ll kill me. I know that with dead certainty.
Uncle Clint shouts, his snarl a whip cracking after me. I can’t make out his words through the adrenaline rushing in my ears, and honestly, I don’t even want to try. The coward I was before would have frozen at that tone. I would have