Page 39 of Hunted in Hope Town

She didn’t look back. Didn’t want to. She’d offered him what she needed to, and if it wasn’t what he needed, well… She just didn’t know how to find the balance in that yet. She was still figuring out her own needs or…something.

So she brushed her teeth and changed into the pajamas she’d been using. She crawled into bed and used some of the techniques Dr. Leigh had given her to fall asleep when she was anxious. Count backwards with careful, slow breaths.

She wasn’t anxious exactly. No, there was something more settled about how she felt up here, but she hadn’t decided what to do about it yet.

So the techniques helped, she thought, because she didn’t remember falling asleep when she awoke with a start. She looked around the dark of the room.

Something…something had woken her up. Her heart started to beat hard against her ribs. Someone was…here. Moving around the cabin.

It’s just Ellis. But what noise would Ellis have made to wake her up? What if something had happened? What if—

This had happened before. The realization hit her with the force of a blow. Terror swept through her, and only remembering to count her breaths helped her from panicking.

“It’s just Ellis,” she told herself, out loud. And even though her limbs shook and she wasn’t sure her knees would hold her, she tossed the covers off and sat up.

There were no other noises. No, wait, there was a faint…rustling. Like water running? “Just Ellis,” she whispered. Over and over as she got to her feet, crept closer and closer to the door that would lead out to the main part of the cabin.

She didn’t see light at the crack under the door. No one was out there.

Or is someone out there to hurt you? She squeezed her eyes shut because she was…imagining things that didn’t quite make sense. Maybe she’d had a dream and that had woken her up. Maybe the images were a dream.

A memory?

Did she hear whispers now, or was it a memory? She opened her eyes. The room was still dark. She should crawl back into bed and count until she fell asleep.

But what if something was wrong out there?

Be brave. You have to be brave. It sounded like someone else’s voice. Like Ellis’s. Like he’d told her that before.

She frowned. It had been a moment like this. Darkness. Terror. And him telling her to be brave. Desperately.

It was something about the idea of Ellis being desperate that gave her the strength to push open the door. The living room was dark, but the tiny light above the stove was on, illuminating Ellis.

Relief swam through her, except he turned. He was holding one hand with the other, and blood dripped from his hand to the floor.

She could see it was a minor injury. Rationally, she knew it. But something was happening in her body. She was rooted to the spot. Something painful throbbing at the base of her skull.

Blood gushing out of his shoulder. Lying there, pale as death. The sensation of falling, falling…

But his shoulder wasn’t bleeding. She was on her own two feet.

“I was just trying to get a drink of water without waking you up and screwed that six ways to Sunday by dropping the glass.” He was wrapping a washcloth around his bloody hand. She could hear him, but his voice sounded briefly muffled.

Blood. Whispers. Dark. Being woken up. Fear. Terror. Panic.

Falling.

It all bubbled through her. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t seem to think through all the feelings assaulting her.

“I’m sorry if I scared you. I finally found a bandage, so I’ll be done banging around here in a second.” He lifted it, began applying it to his hand.

She wasn’t breathing. She couldn’t. She had to, but she couldn’t.

“You’ll have to be careful in the morning. I think I cleaned up all the pieces of glass, but you never know.”

He bent down, disappeared behind the counter. Rationally she knew he was wiping the blood off the floor. Irrationally, she felt alone and whimpered as she struggled to pull in a gasping breath.

He immediately popped back into view and began to cross to her. “What is it?” he demanded.