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He hands me the knife and nods at my ankles.
I don’t need further instruction, but I’m scared to death as I try to pull the tight rope away from my skin and can’t find any give. They tied it so tight.
I’m not convinced I can safely cut the rope off, and I don’t have time to undo the knots right now, so instead, I reach past my foot and slice the rope, leaving the knotted loops attached to my ankles.
“Come on.” The masked man shoves a guy back so he trips over his friend on the floor. As the guy falls and the room is in chaos, my savior turns and grabs my waist, helping me down off the table.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice wobbling.
He grabs my hand and pulls me with him. I don’t know where we’re going, but I trust that he knows what he’s doing and follow him… hopefully, to safety.
I dart a glance back as he hauls me away.
Aiden looks down at his torso with a grimace, then meets my gaze coldly. He drops my gaze long enough to bend down and grab a shard of broken glass off the floor, then he meets my eyes again and smiles in a way that makes my heart drop. Kyle fumbles with an open case, and my stomach sinks when I realize what’s in it.
“I think Kyle has a gun,” I say shakily.
The mask’s hollowed, empty eyes meet mine, and my heart sinks on instinct. Rationally, I know he’s my savior, but looking at him, he seems as much like a predator as they do.
Before I can sink into the feeling, the guy yanks my hand and pulls me around him. “Get in front of me.” He points ahead, and I hurry up a few stone stairs. My heart does a somersault as I get to a pair of closed doors and he crowds me, grabbing my waist and pulling me back against him with one strong arm as he uses the other to push open the solid wood door.
Once the doors are open, the cool night air hits my face and a chill passes over me.
I hear the guys behind us.
Remember the things they said they were going to do to me.
Maybe they didn’t get a chance to, but I know what their intentions were. And I saw their faces.
They’re going to come after us.
My masked savior already seems to expect that.
“Run. Toward the woods.”
I start off in that direction, but trying to run in heels proves impossible. I nearly turn my ankle and let out a cry, then I make a split-second decision to stop.
It makes the most sense. If I get these damn heels off, I can run faster. If I break my ankle trying to run in shoes I can hardly walk in, we’ll both be in a terrible position.
I stop just long enough to get my shoes off, but it’s long enough for Kyle to emerge from the mouth of the cellar.
“Right there! They’re right there!” one guy yells.
Heels clutched in one hand, I take off running and try to catch up with the guy in the mask.
The grass is easy to run on, but as we near the woods, there are sticks and pinecones on the ground. They hurt my feet, and my lungs already burn.
Behind us, I hear gunfire. My heart nearly stops as the bullet rips into the bark of a tree just to my left. Chunks of wood fly into the air, and I run harder, my blood roaring in my ears and my heart pounding so fast, I’m surprised it doesn’t give out.
I don’t know if it’s the fear, adrenaline, or I just need to hit the gym, but my legs feel wobbly and undependable. Every time my feet hit the rough forest floor, I grow more terrified of what feels inevitable—a bullet hitting me or the guy right on my heels.
He’s faster than I am, so even though he’s trying to let me stay ahead, he’s also trying to outrun whoever might be behind us.
It’s too dark in this wooded area. Without the streetlights and with the sounds of our own hearts thundering in our ears, it’s impossible to judge how close they are.
Especially for me, because he’s right behind me.
Even though I know he’s the one who saved my ass back there, hearing him running after me, it feels like I’m being chased by him, too.
