As I ran, something darted out from the side. I jerked, the sudden movement startling me. My stride faltered and I turned toward whatever it was, but I didn't see it.
It plowed into me, knocking me over, my hip taking the brunt of my fall. I grunted in pain and scrambled to get up.
But someone pinned me down.
I shoved at the man, and he glanced down, his eyes meeting mine. There was something cold in his blue-eyed stare. Something empty and flat.
Panic bloomed in my chest, spiking through my body as my heart rate went wild and alarm bells started sounding in my head.
Yes, I read the stories. Yes, I saw it on the news.
Woman is kidnapped. Search for missing woman continues. Woman is found beaten and dead.
But that stuff didn't happen to me. That stuff happened to other people. Unfortunate women … women that weren't me.
This isn't happening to me.
A surge of adrenaline had me bringing my knee up and catching the man in his balls. He made a high-pitched sound and fell to the side. I scrambled up and took off, racing down the path, toward the road that intersected it. If I could make it there, I could flag down a car. I could find someone to help me.
The earbuds had fallen out of my ears and hung around my neck, banging into my skin and reminding me that I had my phone. My phone! As I ran, my hand fumbled, trying to yank it out of the band around my arm. Finally, I managed to grasp it and I held it up in front of me, calling up the keypad and dialing.
9-1-
He tackled me from behind and I fell face forward, the phone tumbling out of my hands, just ahead, just out of reach. I cried out and stretched my hand toward my lifeline, desperate to finish the call.
"You're going to pay for that, bitch," the gruff voice said.
I'd never known such fear in all my life. I could barely think straight. Straight-laced dread and panic took over my body, making my limbs feel heavy and numb.
Don't give in, the voice inside me screamed.
I bucked like a pony and reached forward, my hand closing over my phone. Yes! My joy was extremely short-lived when the man, who was still straddling my back, snatched it out of my hand and tossed it into the nearby creek.
"No," I cried, watching it swept away beneath the surface.
"No one's going to help you," the voice above intoned.
Something inside me went deadly calm. Like the fear and panic flat lined, leaving behind nothing but the sound of my deep, even breathing.
This fucker had no idea who he was dealing with.
I grabbed a handful of gravel beside my face and threw it behind me, right at the man. He didn't tumble off me, but he did swear and I felt him fidget about. I grabbed another handful and launched it at him as I pushed up on my hands and knees, forcing my way out from beneath him.
When I got to my feet, he grabbed me around the ankle and yanked me back. I reached into the hidden zippered pocket of my pants and pulled out a small container of mace. I carried it in case I ran into a bear or some aggressive animal.
I should have known that the real thing to be afraid of out here was another human being.
I flipped the little cap and depressed the button, the spray shooting forward.
But it missed him. He was still low to the ground.
Still clutching the mace, I took off running. I got maybe three steps when he tackled me again. Gravel cut into my cheek and stung my hands.
I started to scream.
I yelled as loud as I could.
He flipped me over and slapped a hand over my mouth. His face was dirty from the gravel and dust I flung at him. His eyes were no longer so empty … They were now filled with excitement.
I glanced down and noticed the tent in his pants, and I gagged.
He was sick. This was sick. This couldn't be happening to me.
"Shut. Up," he said and rocked against me.
I bit him.
He howled in pain and snatched away his hand. As I screamed, I reached out and grabbed at the erection that made me gag and yanked on it, twisting it, digging in my nails and hoping the pain would immobilize him enough for me to get free once more.
In the distance, a dog was barking, and I prayed that meant someone was headed this way, someone that would help me.
My attacker slapped his hand over my mouth again. The taste of blood, metallic and sharp, had me recoiling. His legs were shaking and I knew he was in pain.
But it hadn't been enough.
I saw it in his face.
I felt it in my bones.
I wasn't getting away.
I tried to buck him off one last time. I reached out for two more handfuls of gravel and dirt.
He drew back his arm and punched me. Right in the face.
And then there was nothing.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I really hope you all enjoyed this book. It was one heck of a ride, wasn't it? At times I felt like I was on the plane barreling toward the ocean as I was writing it.
This book is a classic example of how the best laid plans can go awry. It started out with a different title, a title I loved. Triangle. I originally planned to write a book about a girl caught between two guys, stranded on an island in the Bermuda triangle. Hence the title Triangle. It was an ode to the Bermuda Triangle and to a love triangle. I wanted to do something different with the whole love triangle, because in all honesty … as a reader, I don't like love triangles. They annoy me. And is it just me, or am I the only one who picks the guy who never gets picked? Like seriously?
Then I end up in a corner, sucking my thumb asking the heroine, "Why? Why, would you do this to me?"
Yeah. Not fun.
So I vowed to twist it, to make it better.
Then Nash crashed onto the pages. He had me at the ratty jeans. The moment he threw himself on top of Ava and whispered Spanish in her ear, well … I became his slave.
There was NO WAY in H-E-double hockey sticks that Ava would ever be lured away from such perfection. Am I right, or am I right?
I mean, it seemed almost silly to even have her have feelings for someone else.
And that's where the battle for the plot began.
It was a long battle.
The characters won. I pretty much felt like a loony bin patient with all the thoughts rolling around my head. The Bermuda Triangle was supposed to play a bigger roll … In truth, Duke was supposed to be a ghost.
Yeah, not so much.
Instead, we got pirates, betrayal, and Nash.
Yet, I still hung on to Duke, to the possible love triangle. Only it's not really a love triangle, is it? It was naughty Duke trying to lure Ava away.
Although, in truth, I think Duke had feelings for her. I just think he was crazy in the head. The things he lived through … well, you know. But if they had met on the street, he would have liked her. He would have asked her out.
She would have said no.
But he wouldn't have tried to kill her for it.
Anywho, as you can tell by my above rambling, this book was a challenge to write. The most challenging New Adult Contemporary I have written thus far (okay, fine, it is only my third one-but still). It's the last time I battle the characters over the way I think a plot should go.
It makes me crazy.
They win anyway.
I would like to acknowledge my husband, Shawn Hebert, for laughing when I told him how hard the book was to write. His response? "You say that every time."
So maybe I do. This time I meant it.
Yes, I say that every time too.
Thanks, honey, for listening to me go on about plane crashes, texting you at work about flare guns, and then not laughing when I asked you what you would say if I told you I had a dream about being with two men …
No, I will not tell you what he said.
LOL.
To my daughter, Kaydence, who always keeps it real and tells me that my writing is boring. Who tells me that she wishes she could have a job where one lazed around on FB all day … Even though you say all those things, I know the minute I tell you that you are old enough to read my books, you will do so. And you won't say they are boring. Ha-ha-ha.
To my son Nathan, who distracts me from writing by bringing home stray cats and making me feed them. Who shows me his houses and the zombies on his Minecraft game (I still don't get that game) and who tells me that he likes my books-but he isn't going to read them. Ha-ha.
To Regina Wamba and Cassie McCown. The two ladies who are always there to clean up my messes and make my stuff look pretty.
To Amber Garza and Cameo Renae, always there to cheer me on. And to all the ladies of Indie Inked who know exactly what it's like to be a writer.
Thank you all for buying my books. For reading them. For tweeting me. For posting on your blogs and for leaving a review. You truly are my inspiration.
Cambria Hebert is the author of the young adult paranormal Heven and Hell series, the new adult Death Escorts series, and the new adult Take it Off series. She loves a caramel latte, hates math, and is afraid of chickens (yes, chickens). She went to college for a bachelor's degree, couldn't pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair. She currently lives in North Carolina with her husband and children (both human and furry), where she is plotting her next book. You can find out more about Cambria and her work by visiting http://www.cambriahebert.com.