Page 43 of Bloody Quarter

I experienced emotions as one would feel jumping out of a plane without a parachute. Rage, sadness, desire they were all hyped and amplified by who and what I was, but love…I’d never been in love. At least, I hadn’t until now.

“I want you to run, Doll,” I whispered against her soft lips.

“What?”

“I want you to run,” I said again.

“You’re setting me free?”

I smirked. “In a way.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Run. Run as fast as you can, and if you make it off this property, then I’ll give you what you really want. But if I catch you, then you’re mine forever.”

Bracing my arms on either side of her head, I questioned my sanity in doing this, but it needed to be done. Alora’s eyes searched my face. Uncertainty was etched into her beautiful features.

“So, you’re going to let me go right now, and if I get off this property, then I’m free forever? That’s the deal?”

“No, Doll. I said that I will give you what you really want. You asked me to kill you so you could be with your sister. I will not keep you captive or paint your sexy body,” I said, looking down and picturing her naked. “I will end your life swiftly, and you will be at peace. But if I catch you, then you become mine, willingly. You will hand your mind, body, and soul over to me to do with as I please.”

The property was massive, and what looked like neighbors lots were more of mine, but Alora didn’t know that. She also didn’t know that I owned a thousand acres across the road, so no matter which direction she chose, she would have a hell of a run to get away from me.

“This doesn’t sound like a choice.”

“Isn’t it? You begged, screamed, and cried in this house for me to kill you. Now we see what you really want. Ultimate freedom or me.” I pushed away from the wall and pulled my T-shirt off over my head. Her eyes dropped from my face like a magnet as she stared at my chest and nibbled her bottom lip.

“This feels like a trick.”

“No trick, but there is one rule. The deal is void if you run down the driveway or take my boat or any other vehicle. You must make it off the property going cross country through the fields or woods.” Her face blanched.

“What happens if I do that?”

I smiled. “You’ll become my full-time prisoner with no other chance at freedom. I will cut off Miss Harper’s hands and make you wear them as a necklace to remind you what happens to cheaters.” She swallowed hard, fear shining in her eyes. “Now run, Doll. Run. I’ll give you one minute head start.”

“But….”

“Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven….” Alora raced out of the room, and I heard her feet on the stairs a moment before the front door opened and closed. I bounced on the spot, my body pumped for the hunt as I counted down in my head. As soon as I hit one, I was off. I leaped from the upper floor to the main floor and ran out the screen door.

It was still dark out, but the sky was starting to lighten, and I sucked in a deep breath of the early morning air. Jumping off the porch, I looked around at the ground and picked up her sneaker print in the soft, damp dirt. Like all good hunters, I learned to track at a young age. Nothing gave me more joy than learning how to follow others with the smallest of clues. Picking up a jog, I followed her footprints, making sure she wasn’t doubling back before I took off at a run. I knew this land like the back of my hand, and I knew I was on the right path as a flurry of Nightjar birds soared through the bushes at me and then veered off.

The hunt was on. I’m coming for you, Doll. This was our moment of truth.

Alora

Jesus Christ. What the hell was this newfound horror? I was just starting to get my bearings when Greyson hit me out of left field with something else new and terrifying. My heart pounded fast as adrenaline sped through my veins while fear clawed at my throat. It was so dark in these woods that I had to go slow so I didn’t wander off the narrow path while I prayed that I didn’t come across a rattlesnake or a wild hog. Those were my choices: a wild hog, a poisonous snake, or a serial killer. It was the makings of a bad joke.

That was one thing about the woods in Louisiana. There were things more dangerous than serial killers that could take you out. All I could hope was that Greyson was slower and I was faster. But what was I running to? My certain death? Greyson was right. Not long ago, that was what I wanted. That was what he’d saved me from doing, so why was I having reservations now?

Fine, I could admit that I wanted to live, but choosing to become a serial killer’s plaything? What the hell kind of life was that? No, I needed a different plan, one that wasn’t set by him or his rules, one where I controlled the outcome.

I scared a flock of Nightjars from a bush when I jumped to the side and winced as my ankle twisted. The little birds zoomed past me and did nothing to settle my out-of-control nerves.

“Doll, I can hear you,” Greyson said, and a crippling terror scattered my mind, making it difficult to think straight. Twigs and leaves grabbed at my hair, and I squealed as a cobweb stuck to my face. The laugh that echoed behind me was closer than before, and it felt like cold water running down my spine.

There was a break in the trees, an opening that was lighter than the endless darkness behind me, and I could see a fence. Placing my hands on top of the wooden board, I hesitated. I didn’t want to die, and jumping the fence was certain death. If I happened to find a vehicle, I believed that he would find me, and I believed that he would take his rage out on Rex, Miss Harper, and even Mr. Molisano.

Shit! Come on, Alora think.