“I’m sorry, Hunter,” I whisper, then break into a run.
He follows, even though the drug has slowed him, he’s still fast enough to catch me.
I pour every last shred of stamina into it and run as fast as I can. Soon enough, I leave him behind and reach the forest path. Now I just have to follow this path, and eventually I’ll reach the edge of the forest.
I keep running along the path until I see a truck coming toward me.
“Shit,” I mutter, veering off the path and into the forest.
Whose truck is that?Obviously Hunter called his men to intercept me.Fuck, why didn’t I think he could have men stationed around this place?Footsteps rush through the forest behind me, accompanied by shouts of “Catch her!”
I can outrun a drugged Hunter, but I can’t outrun these men. And soon enough, they surround me, all five of them.
At this point, my lungs are clawing for the air I’m gasping for, my heart pounding so loudly I can feel every pulse, as if I could reach into my chest and touch it. My legs tremble beneath me, cold sweat snaking down my back. Through my swimming vision, I watch my plan to run away crumble and fall at my feet.
“We won’t hurt you if you come willingly,” one of the men says.
“I’m not going back, even if you kill me,” I say between sharp, ragged gasps.
We don’t get further, a gunshot cracks through the air, dropping two of the five men. The remaining three and I stand frozen in shock. I recover faster than the men and break into a run. The three of them follow me.
“Stop, or we’ll shoot!” one of the men behind me shouts, but I don’t stop, because I know Hunter would never let his men harm me.
A bullet whips past me at the same moment the right thought clicks into place.
These aren’t Hunter’s men.Because if they were, who shot the other two? I hear two more gunshots, but this time the bullets don’t come near me.
Everything happens before my mind can catch up. When the chaos finally settles, I realize I’m on the ground with a huge body covering half of mine. His upper half isn’t touching me, and then, all at once, his weight disappears. Hunter collapses beside me. I look back and find the three men lying dead.
My head whips toward Hunter at the sound of his groan. My hands move on their own, turning him toward me. His brown jacket is soaked in blood.
He’s been shot.
He’s been shot because of me.
Whoever these men were, they were here for me. They shot at me, and Hunter took the bullets.
Panic, guilt, anger, fear—every emotion locks inside my chest, squeezing so hard I grow dizzy.
He forces himself up and looks at me, his eyes unfocused, glassy with pain. I don’t know how much of it is from the bullets and how much is from the betrayal I dealt him.
I help him to his feet. Thankfully, he doesn’t push me away, he lets me help him. On shaking legs, I force us toward the cabin as fast as I can.
“How much time do you have before you lose consciousness?”
“Don’t you know?” he murmurs.
The guilt festers in my belly, curdling into nausea I can taste.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, moving faster. He isn’t putting his full weight on me, it’s more like he’s holding me close so I don’t run. In this moment, when his life is in danger, how can keeping me from running away still be his priority?
By the time we reach the cabin, Hunter’s weight has grown heavy against me.
“What’s the code?”
“The day I saw you for the first time. Eleven twenty-seven,” he answers weakly.
I punch in the code. The scanner reads Hunter’s barely open eyes, and the door unlocks. I guide him inside; the door seals behind us on its own.
