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Fortunately for her, I’m out of both time and patience. I need to find my girl before her stepfather does something. Reaching behind me, I grip the hilt of my knife. Now, she’s truly panicking.
As she should.
Using the hold on her face, I tilt her head back slightly, pushing her farther into the pillow.
The curved edge of the blade makes quick work of cutting through the skin of her throat. The slice is clean and precise.
Blood spills out, soaking her shirt. The bright lights of the room make the red so much more thrilling.
Life seeps out of her onto the rumpled bedsheets. But my usual calmness is nowhere to be found. My body remains tense and wound up.
I need to find my girl.
First, I’m going to save her, and then, I will take her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Lulu
I unzip the tent just enough to crawl out on my hands and knees. Hopefully, he wastes enough time stopping to look in here so I can make it out of the forest without ending up in his crosshairs.
Frigid air slaps me in the face as soon as I’m exposed. It’s so much worse out here. I guess the tent hadn’t been so useless after all.
Pushing to my feet, I take off to the left. Hard and fast, I push myself more than ever.
Andrew has never come looking for me before. He’s usually too drunk and lazy to bother. Everything about tonight has been different. His fuse is short and explosive, but this is something else.
My stomach churns when I think about why he’s out here.
Clouds of cold air puff out of me as I pant. My palm scrapes against the tree bark, but the boost it gives when I push off them is well worth the pain. I change direction, shoving off another tree.
“Little fucking bitch,” he roars through the forest, followed by sounds of crashing.
He found the empty tent.
It won’t take him long to figure out where I went.
My chest screams, the freezing air burning as I suck it in quicker.
This is the last time. I have to leave. I can’t stay anymore, even if it means being alone.
Being drunk hasn’t slowed him down too much. Andrew covers the ground between us quickly.
Threats of what he will do when he catches me make my steps falter in fear.
I’d rather die.
My rushed feet snap the twigs loudly, but speed is more important right now. It’s not like I can hide. He’d find me.
His feet are heavy, and his stride is much longer than mine.Where is he?
Twisting my neck, I try to glance behind me.
Big mistake.
Something on the ground catches my foot, making me stumble. I try to catch my balance but stagger clumsily.
Just as my feet steady, something big and heavy slams into me, knocking the wind out of me and taking me to the ground.
