Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 59310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
I’ll easily outmaneuver her in a pair of hiking boots I typically wear while staying out here. The only thing I’m carrying is a coil of rope. It’s all I’ll need.
I can hear her voice, can hear her asking questions as Rick pulls her from the car. The edge of fear in her voice is intoxicating. I can’t deny it. She should be afraid.
Rick points away from the car. “Run!” He barks loud enough for the sound to carry my way on the evening air. She hesitates, but only for a moment, trotting off in the direction in which he pointed. I follow, careful to avoid making too much noise at first. I want this to unfold slowly, so I can’t show my hand too early.
I can tell her heart’s not in it. She’s putting this on for show, pretending to run, looking over her shoulder with every other step. Almost like she’s looking to see who’s watching, to see whether she’s giving a good performance. I deliberately step on a thick branch lying on the ground, and the satisfying cracking noise that results makes her jump. When she takes off again, she’s moving faster.
I have the high ground, another benefit of knowing this land and all of its many features. She’s coming up on a thin stream that cuts across the southern corner of the property. Her head swings back and forth as she decides which way to go. Should she follow the stream, or should she cross it? Already she’s winded, doubling over with her hands on her knees to catch her breath.
I pick up the nearest rock and throw it into the stream not far from where she’s standing. The splash makes her jump, and she takes off running again, following the path of the water. The ridge I’m standing on ends in another few hundred feet, so I have no choice but to make my way down the slope and follow her on lower ground.
She would never do well in an actual hunt; that much is for certain. She’s sloppy, leaving a trail it takes no effort to follow. I can hear her up ahead, breathing heavy, like she’s panicking. I laugh loudly enough for her to hear, and her sharp intake of breath tells me she didn’t realize I was so close.
“You’re going to have to be faster than that,” I tell her, keeping my voice low. Menacing. The sound of feet crashing through brush grows louder, more desperate, and floundering. I follow with another laugh.
She crashes through the stream, then to the other side. I follow easily, jumping to the opposite bank with no trouble, now whistling softly as I trail her. “You can run, but you can’t hide,” I call out.
“Why are you doing this?” It’s a breathless question, halfway between a demand and a sob.
“Trust me, Rowan. You don’t want me to find you too quickly. You’d better run.” She does as she’s told, the way she always does, the way I can count on her to do. There’s a fallen tree up ahead, and I watch as she hoists herself over it. I can only imagine her hands smart from the effort, along with the rest of her. That’s nothing compared to what I have in mind tonight.
She stumbles and almost falls, and I deliberately pick up speed, letting her think I’m closing in. She scrambles to her feet and darts away, her golden head a beacon in the moonlight as she zigzags between the trees. She’s becoming exhausted, I can tell, thanks to her panic and the physical exertion. Perhaps it would be better to take pity on her and bring this to a close.
Besides, I’m tired of waiting. Anticipation can only take a man so far before he becomes frustrated with it.
With that in mind, I take a long, curved arc, putting distance between us but knowing, in the end, I’m taking a shortcut. Another hundred yards in front of her is an old stone wall marking the southern edge of the property. Most of the wall has long since crumbled, but there’s enough of it to provide a barrier against her moving forward. She can either go left or right. To the left is a mass of overgrown brambles I doubt she would take her chances with even if she wasn’t half out of her mind with panic.
I wait for her by the wall, knowing she’ll come straight to me. She doesn’t disappoint and stumbles in my direction, not a minute after I reach the rocky surface. She can’t see me, too busy looking around over her shoulder, deeper into the woods she only just stumbled out of.
So when I step out in front of her, she has no time to react. She slams into my chest and bounces off, landing on her ass. Before she can get away, I pounce on her, taking her by the arms and hauling her to her feet before locking my arms around her body, holding her fast.