Page 23 of Hollow Forest

Then why is your pulse racing?

I was about to slide my phone into my pocket when another message came through.

Unknown: If you like games, I know one we can play.

A jolt of electricity shot through my chest. It was strong enough to make something inside me flicker. Something that had been dead for three years.

No!

That comment was madness. That was not something I was going to respond to. I was going to be smart and put my phone away. This psycho didn’t need validation. His actions weren’t normal.

My fingers had a mind of their own.

Me: What game?

While I couldn’t see both of Joey’s hands from this angle, I was able to tell that his gaze was trained on his friend, and their conversation was intense.

Plus, he wasn’t a psychopath.

He might not be, but maybe I was. I was certainly nuts for considering it. The explanation, however, was simple. For a brief, breathless second, it made me feel alive to walk this edge of danger. Which was the only logical reason I kept glancing down at my screen.

Unknown: When the sun sets, take the biggest knife and run.

What the actual fuck?

Unknown: When I catch you, stab me.

The phone slipped from my fingers. I scrambled to catch it, but it clattered on the floor.

Angela turned from the point of sale where she’d been ringing up a customer. I gave her a weak smile and waved her off.

“Too much caffeine.”

She snorted but mercifully turned back to her work, leaving me to crouch on the floor and have a mini heart attack.

Take a knife.

Run.

And stab him?

That right there should prove my stalker was crazy. Crazy and dangerous. That wasn’t something a normal person suggested! Hell, nothing about our interactions was normal.

I should run straight out the door and take the phone to the sheriff’s office. Instead, my gaze slid over the message.

My heart thumped hard against my ribs.

Unknown: You know you want to.

Shit.

It was like he could read my mind. Because without my permission, there was a devious little part of me that freaking liked the idea of running through the woods, wielding a knife, while being chased by someone.

I shouldn’t want that.

It wasn’t normal. I should want a sweet guy, a white picket fence, and safety. But I was no longer the type of girl who wanted that life.

Which was why my stupid heart asked the question: How soon does the sun set?