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“Have you heard about Blackwood’s forest, Naomi?”
I cross my arms over my chest and suck in a sharp intake of air. I’m pretending to be all composed when I’m, in fact, on the verge of freaking out. This looks like an episode of my true crime podcasts.
Maybe Sebastian is a serial killer.
Serial rapist.
Serial creep.
Maybe he uses his looks and charm to lure girls, do all sort of fuckery to them, then kill and bury them in the forest where no one will find them.
Or maybe you watch too much true crime.
Clearing my throat, I choose to hold on to my fake calm. “Of course, I have. I’ve lived in this town for four years.”
“Then you must’ve heard about the numerous burial sites scattered around. They say our town doesn’t have a high crime rate, but maybe that’s because they were all hidden by influential people a long time ago. Maybe some of the disappearances reported to the police weren’t runaway cases after all.”
Okay. Now, I’m scared.
Scratch that. My survival mode kicks into full gear like when I was being followed by that van last night.
No one would talk about murder and crime in the middle of a dark forest unless violence is on their mind.
My knees knock against each other and my throat closes before I choke out, “Why are you bringing all of that up?”
“To put you in the mood.”
“In the mood for what?”
He uses his grip on my elbow to draw me close. So close that I’m drowned by the sheer presence of him and how easily he could squash me.
Did I find the mass of body difference attractive at my house? How could I, knowing he could’ve used it to erase me?
The hot tenor of his voice vibrates with his breath on the shell of my ear. “To run, Tsundere.”
“R-run?”
“Yes.” He releases me. “I won the bet and I want you to run.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think?” Despite the darkness taking refuge all around us, I can perceive the gleaming light in his tropical eyes.
They seem like a hunted island now, about to lure me to its shores and allow me no way out.
“So I can chase you.”
A craggy sound catches at the back of my throat and something strange sparkles in my chest.
Something I don’t want to know the name of.
I stare up at Sebastian and pause at how close he is, almost like he’s intending on tasting my words and breathing in my air. That is, if he already isn’t.
“I’m not playing.” My voice is weak, barely audible in the deafening aftermath of his declaration.
“Who said you have a choice? Eithe
r you play or I leave you here. The road is about a twenty-minute walk, so you’ll find your way…eventually.”
