Free The Evil Within by Nancy Holder

wondering if I had made any noise; if I had just betrayed myself. I pushed against the ground with the rock, using it as leverage, while I stretched out to pick up the stick with my left hand. I closed my fist around it and yanked. It came free with a snap.
    There was more rustling in the bushes. Very close, maybe three feet away. If a mountain lion sprang . . .
    I caught my breath and held it. Contracting my stomach and pressing my chin to my chest, I pushed back until I was sitting back on my haunches. My sweatpants were soaked through with snow, and I was shaking so hard I wasn’t sure I’d be able to throw the rock, much less hit anything with it.
    I licked my lips and brought my fist with the branch against my chest. The rock seemed the better weapon; I couldn’t imagine getting close enough to a wild animal to stab it.
    I swayed, dizzy. I thought of my dad, and CJ and her little boys; I thought of Julie and Troy; and then, my mom. Are you here, Memmy? Am I going to die now, and be with you? I didn’t want to die. I would do anything . . .
    Anything?
    Directly to my right, the leaves on some bushes jittered. It smelled like Thanksgiving; the bushes were sage. I squeezed the rock and brought up my hand, silently weeping; no, I was wheezing. I sounded like I was dying.
    I got ready to throw it—
    —And from behind the trees, Miles Winters slowly rose to a standing position. He was wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a black hoodie sweatshirt with a plain gray T-shirt, and his white-blond hair hung loose around his chin, damp with sweat.
    “You asshole!” I screamed. And I probably would have thrown the rock at him, if he hadn’t darted forward, grabbed my hand, and plucked it out of my fist, as he stared at me.
    “What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked. I scrabbled to my feet, brandishing the stick. He blinked at it, and at me. “I heard shouting,” he said. “I came to help.”
    I started to back away, stumbling on a low-lying bush; as I began to fall backward, he caught my forearm. His grip was very tight.
    “Easy, princess.”
    “Let go of me.” I jerked on my arm, and when he didn’t let go, I poked his hand with the stick, lightly.
    “Ow,” he protested, but he didn’t release me. “What are you doing out here so early, little Red Riding Hood?” He touched my hair. Then his fingertip grazed my cheek. “That might leave a scar,” he said. “It’ll make you look edgy. Edgi er ,” he added, checking me out, stem to stern. He smiled faintly. “Marlwood. How did they let you in?”
    “What are you doing out here?” I was stung by his insinuation that I didn’t belong, even though I didn’t. “Detoxing?” It was stupid to bait him, but I couldn’t help it. That was one of my flaws, going for the sarcasm in times of stress.
    “Detoxing? I suppose so. In my own special way. I’m shedding my skin, like a snake.” He examined my blood on his finger. “Listen, Lindsay Anne Cavanaugh,” he said. All the warmth and amusement vanished, and he glared at me with his cold, hard eyes. His grip on my arm tightened.
    “I’m very protective of my family. I’m sure you look out for yours.” He narrowed his eyes. “Your dad. And stepmom. And your stepbrothers, Tom and Sam.”
    So he knew the names of my stepbrothers, so what? I knew Julie had spent part of her vacation horseback riding with Mandy. I also knew that Miles had been released from rehab so he could spend Christmas at home. Julie probably talked about me. Maybe she even told them that I lived on the corner of wacko and high-strung.
    “Don’t try to hurt one of us,” he said. “Don’t even think about it.”
    I had a crazy moment where I thought he had overheard me talking to Celia at the lake. About killing Mandy. But if he had, I doubted he would have stood there in relative calm, trying to intimidate me . . . and succeeding so well.
    “No worries,” I retorted.
    His eyes narrowed. The hair on the back of my neck rose