Half truth

Chapter Forty-Two

I was floating.

No.

Falling.

Moving.

Swaying.

My head felt like someone was pounding on it from the inside and out. I groaned. Or maybe someone else did. My movements weren’t my own. My body rocked back and forth. Someone was carrying me. As I tried to peel my eyes open, I could see the trees above me, the sun peeking through the branches. I focused on the sounds of crunching on scattered leaves and branches beneath us. The person carrying me was wearing boots. I opened my eyes wider. Deacon. Deacon was carrying me. I tried to scream, but it came out a groan.

“Pretty doll.” He looked down at me and smiled.

I shook my head, the dreadful thought of him doing something to me sending a jolt through me. I moved my body, tried to thrash in his arms so that he’d drop me, but he held on tighter. I realized, the moment I tried to lift my arms, that they were tied. My feet were tied as well. I stood no chance. Not with the massive headache and disorientation I felt. Not without knowledge of where we were going or even a voice to ask. My tongue felt like dead weight in my mouth. Where was Hailey? Where the hell was Hailey? I looked around, my eyes moving to and fro, but saw nothing. I focused on the crunching beneath us, trying to figure out if someone else was walking with us, but couldn’t tell. Why would Hailey let Deacon do this to me? So that I didn’t go to the cops about her mother? Jesus. She could have asked me not to say anything to them. She could’ve not brought this information to me in the first place. The swaying was lulling me to sleep. The swaying and the headache and the heaviness of my eyes. I shut them, my head hitting Deacon’s chest with the movement. He smelled like farm animals and mechanic. It was the last thing I thought of before I completely passed out again.