I raise my hand but stop before touching it. Heat radiates off my skin and makes my breath hitch. The pain grounds me. It reminds me that I am here, standing in this room, not trapped in that manor with people hunting me for sport.
I catch Seth’s reflection behind me in the mirror. His eyes are darker than usual. Pride and something more possessive lingers there, softened by a look he rarely lets anyone see.
He steps forward and kisses me.
His mouth is warm, and my body leans into him before my mind can catch up. For a moment I let myself exist inside that kiss and nowhere else.
Then the memory surfaces.
Miles.
If I don’t make it, tell him I loved him. Tell him so he’s not sitting there thinking I left him or waiting for me to come home.
His voice had been calm even though he believed he was about to die.
Our address is 24781 Riverbend Lane. Eugene, Oregon.
The numbers slam back into my mind.
24781 Riverbend Lane.
I pull away from Seth.
“What?” he asks immediately.
I step back from the mirror. My back protests, but the pain barely registers now.
“Miles.”
Seth’s jaw tightens, but he stays silent.
“He gave me his address before the hunt,” I continue. “He told me that if one of us didn’t make it, I should tell his husband.”
The words feel heavier now that I say them out loud.
“I forgot,” I admit.
Shame scrapes through my chest.
I should have gone sooner. But we had been hunted. We had been running and bleeding and surviving hour by hour. When it finally ended, when thenoise stopped and the danger pulled back, my mind did something worse than panic.
Entire memories lock themselves away where I can’t reach them.
Seth steps closer and studies my face.
“Do you want to go now?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“I’ll drive.”
The house looks beautiful. Wind chimes by the door click softly in the breeze like the world never broke.
I stand there for a second with my hand half raised, because knocking means making it real. Then I knock.
Footsteps come quickly. The door opens.
A man with tired eyes and dark hair looks at me with polite confusion. He isn’t rude. He just has no idea who I am.
