Lyla kept the road in view as she crept further and further from her dead car and Keenan's, which was parked with tail lights flashing. Her boot slipped, sending a handful of rocks skittering down the hillside.

The sound turned Keenan's head. "I hear you moving around up there, Kitten." He jerked the zipper of his bomber up and down.

She stayed low to the ground and continued her awkward journey. Her feet felt like cement blocks as she lumbered along the craggy escape route.

"Come on down now, baby," he pleaded. "Get in my nice warm car and we can forget this whole thing."

Baby?!

She knew better than to fall for his tactic. Keenan would often pretend that his anger had subsided but just beneath the surface, she knew that his rage would bubble up at the slightest provocation.

He hollered, "You know there's bears in these woods! Better come on outta there!"

As he parted the thick clumps of field grass on his way into the wooded hillside where she hid, he appeared to her like a demon. His eyes glowed red, his breath billowed out of his mouth and nostrils like a dragon.

When angry, Keenan seemed bigger, bloated with rage and violence. Tonight, he was in search of a victim, a victim he could devour, a victim he could tear to shreds. Lyla believed that tonight she was destined to be his victim.

Frantically, she continued through the brush. The cars were no longer visible but neither was Keenan. Her heart hammered so hard, she could hear it pounding in her ears. Could he hear the gentle jangle of the metal bracelet against her wrist?

His silence worried her. Was he creeping up only a short distance away? Or maybe he stood right behind her.

She hid behind a tree and sobbed quietly into her frozen knuckles. She silenced the bracelet by clenching it against her wrist, trembling from the cold and from fear. She'd seen the results of his volatile outbursts.

He'd been tossed out of a coffee shop for throwing a chair against the wall during one of their epic arguments. On another occasion, he smashed a vase and a desk lamp when she told Keenan that she wanted to break up with him. And she lied to her father about the bruises on her arm, to prevent her dad from putting Keenan in the hospital, or maybe the morgue.

The effects of the drug continued to color Lyla's perceptions. A nearby rock formation seemed to lunge at her. She was convinced that she saw a shadowy figure dart between two trees. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against her knees.

She whispered, "If there is a God, please help me. I don't want to die." She wished that she could simply vanish into the cold pools of air hanging low just above the mossy forest floor.

Where is he?

She held her breath and listened. She heard only the sounds of chirping and droning insects.

When she raised her head to survey the area, a cold, strong hand clamped down on her wrist. Lyla screamed. The knuckles that underlined the word SNAKE left no doubt in her mind about the identity of her captor.

"Go ahead and yell. Nobody can hear you out here, Kitten. Nobody!" Keenan roared.

Abject terror paralyzed her. She didn't want to die out in these cold, lonely woods.

He pulled her tight against his chest and glared down at her with his burning eyes. His breath stunk of cigarettes and beer laced with the putrid stench of violence.

"I thought you learned your lesson." He grinned an ugly smile. "But maybe it's me. Could be I'm a bad teacher." He gripped her face in his hand and squeezed her cheeks hard. "So I'm going to teach you a lesson you ain't never gonna forget."