Lisa Jackson - Born To Die

She thought she saw the same dark pickup creeping up behind her, and she went instantly on alert as she was completely alone and the apartments and houses had dwindled a little as she’d reached the outskirts of town.

But the truck turned down a side street, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Don’t let your imagination get the better of you.

Still, she couldn’t help but feel a little anxious, her nerves strung more tightly than normal. Darkness was settling more quickly than she’d expected, the winter air stark and cold, trees shivering, their naked branches rattling over the steady beat of a Black Eyed Peas song.

Concentrate on your breathing.

She glanced over her shoulder again. The truck was nowhere in sight, and the snow was really coming down.

Good!

She was already breathing hard and blamed her lack of breath on cigarettes. She had quit twice before but had taken up the habit again after the breakup with Trace O’Halleran a little over six months ago. Her blood still boiled when she thought of the sexy cowboy and how she’d pinned her hopes on him, even though they’d dated such a short period. Tall and rangy, with wide shoulders and a slow smile that showed off just the hint of a dimple when he was really amused, the rancher had gotten to her. In a big way. He was a single father of one of her students last year, and she’d zeroed in on him on Back-to-School Night.

And it had been a mistake. Of course. She should never have gotten involved with him. When it came to men, she always jumped in feetfirst, without really thinking. Didn’t she have the divorce papers to prove it?

Another stab at romance with Trace not long ago had ended up badly, and she still blushed when she remembered her attempts at seduction and his rebuke. God, if she thought about it, she could feel his big hands over her wrists as he pushed her against the wall and, instead of kissing her, said, “Enough. It’s over. This was a really bad idea,” before releasing her abruptly and walking out her door.

She had slammed it behind him and could still hear the hollow thud reverberate in her mind.

Live and learn, she thought sourly before checking the street and turning up the hill that was the toughest part of her route. It was worth it, she told herself, because at the crest she was able to run along the cliff that overlooked the river and the falls, the most picturesque point of her run, though her mind was still on Trace. She wondered, now that she wasn’t Eli’s teacher any longer, if there was a chance she could rekindle the relationship.

Maybe she could take him over something she’d baked for Christmas. Cookies? No, that was too corny. A bottle of wine with a Christmas label? Again, he’d see right through it.

Hadn’t she tried the “let’s be friends” routine and had it blow up in her face? How many times had she called him since they broke up? Three times? Four? Eight? Stupid, stupid, stupid! And really, they hadn’t exactly broken up, just like they hadn’t exactly ever been in a relationship, no matter what she’d ridiculously put up on Facebook after two dates. That was what too much wine and listening to friends who were even drunker than you were got you.

Havoc.

Trace, when he’d learned of it through his son, no less, hadn’t been happy, and that had been the beginning of the end. She should never have called him and now winced when she realized she’d dialed his number the night before, then hung up just as his voice mail had answered.

Just be smart and get over him. There are other men out there, even in Grizzly Falls.

She checked the street and crossed to the other side so that she could run along the bluff overlooking the river before the trail opened up to a park where she could take a U-turn and start back.

Three cars passed, beams from their headlights shimmering on the wet road, tires splashing up dirty water. Gritting her teeth, she kept at it, breathing with more difficulty as she veered into the park with its series of hiking trails. Just a little farther, she told herself. She was really breathing hard now, and her calves were beginning to cramp.

Finally, the ground leveled off, and she ran along an asphalt trail along the bluff that overlooked the river’s chasm. A short stone rail, less than two feet tall, had been built over a hundred-some years earlier and allowed a view of the ravine where the river swept over the falls of the town nearly two hundred feet below. The older section of Grizzly Falls was strung along the river’s banks just below the falls, streetlights glowing like iridescent jewels in the gathering gloom.

Dragging her eyes back to the path before her, Jocelyn followed the bluff until the path forked, and she veered toward the interior of the park, away from the street. Sweating despite the wintry air, she headed toward the lone hemlock that she always circled before returning on the same path.

Her breath was fogging the air now; her blood pumping crazily.

Almost there!

She was alone; no one else was nutty or obsessive enough to be out in this weather. God, it was cold. Despite her gloves, her fingers were numb.

Around a final bend, she spied a massive tree rising darkly to the stygian heavens.

She slowed a bit, gasping from the exertion and removing her earbuds for a second. Leaning forward, she braced her hands on her knees. She usually didn’t stop midway, but tonight she needed a quick breather.

Over the sound of her labored breathing and the rapid tattoo of her heart, she heard the sound of the river and the moan of the wind. She was fiddling with her iPod when she heard another noise… footsteps? Was someone else out jogging?

Her head snapped up.

Not a big deal, and yet she was wary. Careful.

Probably just another dedicated runner.

Maybe you aren’t the only idiot out tonight.

She plugged in one earbud and took off again, listening to a Beyoncé number with one ear and the sounds of the coming night with the other.

Just to be certain she was okay.

The wind was chasing down the river’s canyon, cold as ever, and she thought she heard an owl hoot, welcoming the gloaming, then, again, the regular smack of feet on pavement behind her.

Yep, another jogger.

And a fast one, from the sounds of it.

She glanced over her shoulder, saw no one, and picked up her pace. It was time to go home, stand under a warm shower, and try to feel better. There were still three more days of school before the holiday—

The footsteps were closer now.

Clipping along. Rapidly.

Again, she turned her head.

The path behind her was empty.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled.

It’s just your imagination, Jocelyn. Nothing sinister.

Ignoring the burning in her lungs and the cramping in her calves, she kicked into a sprint, running quickly through the trees. It was dark now, only a few lamps offering any kind of illumination, the trees with their black trunks stark as they rose from the winter-bleached grass, a blur.

Don’t freak out. There’s no reason to freak out. Even though you don’t have your phone with you, it’s nothing to worry about.

She was really sweating now.

The main road rimming the bluff was close, just around the next corner—

“Oh!”

She caught a glimpse of the other jogger, a tall, athletic man dressed head to toe in black running gear and a ski mask.

Her heart clutched.

Nothing to worry about. Let him pass.

Adrenaline sped through her bloodstream. She kicked her pace up a notch, to a full-blown run, her feet slapping the path faster and faster, her breath hard.

It’s all right. It’s all right. It’s all right….