UNTOUCHED

I shouldn’t have stopped.

Not on a road like that. Not at that hour.

The rain had been falling for hours—heavy, relentless—turning the mountain road into a slick ribbon of darkness. My headlights barely cut through the fog. There were no streetlights. No houses. No signs of life.Just me… and the sound of my own engine echoing into nothing.I remember thinking I should turn back.I didn’t.Then I saw her.At first, I thought it was just a shadow—something shifting at the edge of the road. My grip tightened on the steering wheel, heart skipping for no reason I could explain.And then she stepped into the light.Barefoot.Soaked.Breathing like she’d been running for her life.I slammed the brakes.The car skidded slightly before stopping a few feet away from her. For a second, neither of us moved. The rain poured down between us like a curtain.She didn’t look normal.Not in the way you’d expect someone to look after running through a storm. Her hair clung to her face, dark and dripping, but her eyes—her eyes were sharp. Too aware. Too focused.Locked on me.“Please,” she said, her voice barely cutting through the rain. “You have to help me.”I should have driven away.Instead, I unlocked the door.She didn’t hesitate.The moment she got in, the car filled with the scent of rain and something else—something warm, something human that made my chest tighten in a way I didn’t understand.“Drive,” she said quickly, glancing over her shoulder. “Don’t stop.”My foot pressed down on the gas before my brain could catch up.The tires spun slightly, then gripped, and we were moving again—back into the darkness.I didn’t ask questions right away.I should have.I kept my eyes on the road, trying to steady my breathing, trying to make sense of what I’d just done. Picking up a stranger in the middle of nowhere at night? That wasn’t me.But she didn’t feel like a stranger.That was the problem.“He’s coming,” she said suddenly.I glanced at her.She was staring out the back window, her body tense, fingers gripping the edge of the seat like she was holding on to something invisible.“Who?” I asked.“My husband.”The word hit harder than it should have.I looked back at the road.“What happened?”She didn’t answer right away. I could feel her watching me now, the weight of her gaze heavier than the storm outside.“He won’t stop,” she said finally. “He never does.”Something about the way she said it made my stomach tighten.I wanted to ask more. I wanted to understand what I was getting myself into.But I didn’t.Because part of me already knew.This wasn’t going to end well.The car sped through a curve, tires hissing against the wet asphalt. The fog thickened, swallowing everything beyond a few meters ahead.And then—Headlights.Far behind us.Small at first. Distant.But there.My pulse jumped.“Is that him?” I asked.She didn’t answer.I glanced at her again.She was still staring out the back window… but something had changed.The fear was still there.But beneath it—Something else.Something I couldn’t name.“Don’t slow down,” she whispered.The headlights behind us grew brighter.Closer.Too fast.I tightened my grip on the wheel, pressing harder on the gas. The engine growled in response, the car pushing forward as the road twisted deeper into the mountains.This was insane.I didn’t know her.I didn’t know who was behind us.And yet—I didn’t stop.Because every time I looked at her… every time her shoulder brushed against mine as the car swayed through another turn…I forgot how wrong this felt.I forgot that I should be afraid.Another curve.Another flash of lightning.For a split second, the road lit up—and I saw the car behind us more clearly.Black.Low.Moving faster than it should have on a road like this.My throat went dry.“He’s getting closer,” I said.Still no answer.I looked at her again—And this time, she wasn’t looking back.She had turned forward… her eyes fixed on the road ahead.Calm.Too calm.Almost like she knew exactly where we were going.A chill ran down my spine.“Do you know this road?” I asked.A pause.Then—“Yes.”Just one word.Soft.Certain.Like she’d been here before.The headlights behind us flared brighter, filling the rearview mirror.Too close now.Way too close.“Hold on,” I muttered, gripping the wheel as the next curve approached sharper than the last.The car drifted slightly as I took it faster than I should have. The tires screamed against the wet road, the edge of the cliff barely visible through the fog.For a second—I thought we were going to lose control.But we didn’t.We made it through.Barely.I exhaled sharply, heart pounding.And that’s when I felt it.Her hand.On my arm.Warm.Firm.Not shaking anymore.I looked at her.She was watching me now.Not the road.Not the car behind us.Me.“Don’t stop,” she said again.But this time—It didn’t sound like fear.It sounded like a command.The headlights behind us surged closer, flooding the car with harsh white light.And for the first time since she stepped into my life—I realized something.We weren’t just running from him.We were going somewhere.And somehow…she already knew where.