What just happened?

I ignore the sensors yelling at me that I have flat tires and realize my car stopped on the grass just off the road. Rubbing my forehead, I open my car door and place a foot on the ground, freezing when I look up.

Directly in front of me, on the other side of the road, is Tony.

No matter how many times I imagine him, no matter how many times I told myself I was ready for this moment, nothing could’ve prepared me for all the emotions I feel at seeing the man I’m most terrified of only a few feet away from me.

“Thea,” he says from where he stands. Not moving closer, but not needing to for me to feel threatened. The road is quiet. The line of trees behind him stand at attention. “Been a while, but I always find you, don’t I?”

He’s gloating; proud of himself. I force myself to breathe and step out of my car. It’s useless now anyway. I have nowhere to go, nowhere to run, no one to come save me.

“How long have you been in town?” I try not to let my nerves show. I need to be in control of this situation. I can’t let him affect me like he wants to.

I have no control.

“I got in this morning. My friend didn’t send me this information about you and my daughter until recently.”

This time he does move closer. Just a few steps, enough to send my heart rate up, to steal the air from my lungs.

I force words past my lips. “Well, we’re here. What now?”

He takes a step closer to me, still on the opposite side of the road, but still way too close for comfort, close enough to send shivers down my spine. I take a few steps back to put more distance between us, the tall grass coming up to my shins.

“Now?” He smiles, but it’s a malicious smile, one that I know isn’t good for me. “Now, I win.”

The look of rage on his face is one I’m familiar with, but not one I’m ever ready for. Before I can process anything, he pulls a gun from behind his back, and aims it at me.

My breath hitches. I turn to the side, trying to get away, trying to put more distance between us, when I register the sound of the gunshot. I don’t feel anything at all. Did he miss? He aimed right at me and missed? As I move, though, I realize something’s wrong. I touch the side of my chest, right under my arm, and pull my hand away to reveal blood.

I stare at my hand for a moment, words lost to me, not processing what this means.

I’ve been shot.

It doesn’t hurt. Is it supposed to hurt? I collapse to my knees on the grass.

I’ve been shot.

I’m forced onto my back and register that Tony is on top of me, straddling me. A sadistic smile is plastered on his face. He’s waited a year for this moment. He’s followed me across the country and dedicated all his time to finding me for this exact moment. To see me in pain. To end me.