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Hooded figures that use the dark to their advantage.
Lines and circles . . .
“Hurry,” he murmured, flinging the pants at me before heading toward the closet. “I’ll get your shoes.”
A menacing weight settled over me less than a second before a muffled sound came from behind me.
Ice-cold fingers gripped at my spine, forcing a shallow breath from me as I slowly turned to look over my shoulder.
The air fled from my lungs in a cry when I saw what was happening behind me, highlighted by the haunting light of the moon, my chest seizing and my mind conjuring up unforgiving images from so many years ago.
Conor thrashed, punching and elbowing at the man on his back and trying to knock him off. But the man held strong, tightening his chokehold on Conor so that even in the muted light flooding the room, I could see the horrible shade Conor’s face was turning.
And I knew without a doubt exactly which man could withstand what Conor was trying to do, just as I knew he could take being stabbed and continue to fight.
“Run,” Conor choked out.
I dropped the pants and ran for the nightstand where Kieran used to keep extra knives, but there was nothing there.
My head snapped up at the sound of Conor slamming the man against the wall, but when my eyes caught Conor’s, he flung his hands in front of him and mouthed, “Run.”
I looked at the drawer one last time, then glanced at Conor helplessly.
His eyes were wide and panicked, and his mouth was wide and gaping, but he was still managing to mouth, “Run.”
I started backward, an apology on my lips, when Conor’s eyes rolled back and his jaw went slack.
No. No, not Conor. Not Conor too.
The sight made me falter, but I forced myself to keep going—forced myself to turn and hurry toward the windows. I wrenched them open and ran onto the balcony, my attention catching on the knotted rope that lay coiled and already attached to the railing.
I didn’t know how to rappel, but it didn’t matter in that moment. I would’ve rather flung myself off the second floor than let the man in the room catch up to me.
I bent for the thick rope but was hauled back against a hard chest, a scream tearing from my lungs before he could clamp his hand over my mouth.
“Hello, Princess,” Johnny sneered.
“I have someone who’s excited to meet you,” Johnny mocked once he’d forced me back through the bedroom and out into the hall, dragging me when I let my body become a dead weight.
“I can assure you he won’t be
meeting me,” I hissed, jamming my elbow into his stomach.
He only laughed.
It didn’t matter that I’d been aching to find Dare earlier. I knew Johnny and I doubted he would take me to Dare now if he realized I was Elle. Then again, I was under no delusion he wouldn’t kill me himself anyway.
He was the reason behind Dare’s continued need for vengeance. It was like Einstein had said: Dare had a devil on his shoulder. And that devil had me in his grasp.
My mind raced as I considered what I could do, but his large body and the way he was dragging me as if I weighed nothing was paralyzing me.
“This world will be a better place when your heart sto—”
I shoved my feet against the floor and smashed my head into his face as hard as I could, staggering forward into a run, blinking away the black spots in my vision when he released me.
“Shit,” I cried as I tried to shake away the pain shooting through my skull. Screams for help tore from my lungs when Johnny’s large arms wrapped around me from behind, lifting me into the air to haul me backward again.
But my screams were futile.
