“And when I catch you,” he says, voice dropping lower, huskily, “I’m going to fuck you.”
A rush of heat sweeps through me so unexpectedly it almost steals the air from my lungs.
He means every single word.
My heartbeat skips as the charged atmosphere between us becomes unbearable.
Tyler peers toward the digital clock on the dashboard.
“Better start now, my little reaper.”
I stare at him for a span of a single breath before my hand finds the door handle and I bolt.
The storm greets me with a barrage of freezing rain the moment I throw myself out of the vehicle. Mud sucks at my flip-flops while I sprint across the vacant lot, breath tearing from mychest as laughter nearly bubbles up out of me despite everything from tonight still molded to my skin.
Behind me, Tyler doesn’t follow.
Not yet anyways.
I squint over my shoulder once while I jog to the tree line bordering the back of the property. The headlights from the vehicle cut through the rain in pale bands, highlighting Tyler still sitting behind the wheel, his eyes never swaying from me while I recede into the night.
Something electric unfurls through me as the seconds tick by.
My wet sweatshirt is glued to my skin while rain trickles down my neck as I weave further into the tree line. Branches and twigs snag onto my sleeves. The ground is unlevel and slick soaked from the ongoing storm.
Five minutes.
My pulse gallops through my veins.
I duck behind a cluster of thick trees, becoming hyperaware of my surroundings.
The nightfall around me feels alive.
Every popping branch, dark outline and breath I gather in gulps.
My ears prick up as I listen for him and hear nothing.
The absence of sound is more alarming than hearing him coming.
Then someplace behind me, a branch splinters.
The world seems to stop as my body forgets how to work.
My attention fixes on the trees ahead, every instinct on high alert.
Rain flows through the canopy directly above me, drowning everything else out.
Another crunch, this one isn’t distant, it’s right there.
I retreat a step, then another, losing a flip-flop to the thick mud without taking my eyes off the shadows, searching for movement.
Nothing, not even his voice.
Tyler knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s part of the game.Moving through the woods like a hunter that already knows the outcome.
A nervous laugh works its way out of my throat.
Then it happens, an arm slithers around my waist and wrestles me backward.
