Following Me by Linde, K.A. (best books to read in your 20s .txt) 📗

crossed the halfwaypoint between the road and the woods, she heard boots crunching against theearth behind her.  Rolling her eyes, Devon turned back around.

Dustin better not be trailingme again, she thought.

Her eyes roamed the field, tryingto make out if someone was on the road.  She couldn’t really see anyone, butout here, that didn’t mean no one was there.  Shaking off the feeling, Devonturned and continued across the open field.  She had plans, and getting spookedout in the open wasn’t going to stop her.

When her feet hit the tree line,the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.  Devon swallowed and lookedaround, her stomach sinking in apprehension.  She felt ridiculous for feelinganxious like this, but her parents had filled her head with stories from thenews about girls getting abducted, being sold into prostitution, and thengetting killed.  Too many stories like that had happened recently.  She hadalways told her mom that she was a worrywart, but now that her nerves weregetting to her, Devon was wondering if her mother worried for good reason.

She still didn’t see anyoneapproaching, but she could feel eyes on her.  It was an obvious feeling, likethe way Matt had stared at her in the back of the classroom.  But this wasworse.

Hightailing it out of there,Devon broke through the trees onto the narrow trail.  It wasn’t a long walkfrom there, but she increased her pace anyway.  She had a terrible feelingabout all of this.  Why hadn’t she just stayed home?  Why couldn’t shelisten to anything anyone told her?

She definitely heard footstepsbehind her.  They weren’t exactly close, but they didn’t have to be to freakher out.  She was alone after all, and all things considered, she was a smallperson.  There was no way she could fend off someone purposefully chasing her. Her only hope would be for her to make it out of the tree line.

Fear pushed at her pores, and shefelt panic hitting her like a ton of bricks.  What kind of person wouldchase after her in the middle of the woods?  Would she be one of those newsstories—pieces of a dead body from a young woman found buried in thewoods near her house?  Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed it down. She was only freaking herself out more.

Taking off at a sprint, Devonpushed forward as fast as she could go.  She had never been a runner, and thelast beer she’d had was sloshing around in her stomach, slowing her down.  Whyhad she done that?  If she hadn’t, would she be faster?  She couldn’t thinkabout it.

Her boots slowed her down evenmore.  They weren’t meant for running distances.  They were meant for horsebackriding, and more importantly, they looked good.

Her feet pounded the dirt as shetried to hold her pace.  The end of the trail was approaching, but she couldfeel her pursuer gaining on her.  On a straight stretch in the trail, shelooked over her shoulder, and her long hair flew out in every direction aroundher face.  She could definitely see a figure, but with a quick look, shecouldn’t tell who it was or if she even recognized the person.

Hadn’t her mother told herthat 95 percent of reported cases were people that the victim knew firsthand?

Finally reaching the road, shelooked both ways before crossing.  She ran straight across the lawn between thedouble oak trees and up the creaking wooden stairs.  She yanked open the screendoor and banged on the front door.  Devon heard a familiar answering call, andshe pushed into the house without another thought.

It was a small run-down onebedroom shack that hadn’t been inhabited for as long as Devon had known aboutit.  She had been sneaking away here to have sex with her boyfriend for nearlyas long.  He should already be here.  He would protect her.  Wouldthe person following her try to get into the house?  It wasn’t secure byany means.  Her pursuer wouldn’t have a hard time breaking in.

Devon slammed the door shut andslid the lock into place, hoping that it would help.

“Mason!” she called outfrantically.

No answer.

“Mason!” she yelled again,rushing to the closed bedroom door.

He had knocked back when she cameto the door.  It was their signal.  She hadn’t made up the fact that he hadknocked back.  Where the hell was he?

Devon pushed open the bedroomdoor and found the room transformed.  It was stark white everywhere from thewalls to the four-poster bed to the carpet and curtains.  The room wasunbelievably bright, like she had entered another world.

She looked around, taking a fewhesitant steps into the room.  When she heard the door close behind her, shejumped and glanced over her shoulder.  Her exit had been sealed off, and as faras she could tell, there wasn’t another exit.

“Mason?” she whispered, the wordslodging in her throat.  Her heart hammered in her chest as tears welled in hereyes.

How do I get out of this? shethought.

She felteyes on her again, and she turned around to meet her pursuer.  Before she had achance to scream, the person grabbed her arm, wrenched it painfully behind herback, and planted her face-first into the mattress.

DEVON AWOKE WITH a scream eruptingout of her throat, the one she hadn’t been able to let loose in her dream.  Shesat straight-up on the couch, her breathing heavy and her skin clammy.  Pushingher hands up into her hair, she let the tears fall freely.  She cried therehelplessly until she had no more tears left, until her eyes were red and puffy,and until her throat was sore.

She moved the covers off her bodyand pushed herself off the couch, standing up on shaky legs.  The door toBrennan’s bedroom remained closed.  She wondered if he had heard her screams orif he had slept through them.  Either way, he hadn’t opened the door, makinghis position very clear.

Stumbling forward into thekitchen, she poured herself a glass of water and downed it.  Her clothes werewrinkled, and she didn’t even want to think about how rumpled her hair was. Knocking on the bathroom door, she waited for an answer, and when she didn’thear one, she entered.

Her reflection stared back at herfrom the mirror over the sink, and she tried