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I drive down the winding road to the parking lot. She sighs, a sound of relief when she realizes there's a parking lot with other cars and we’re not alone. We both get out of the car and I point to the trail I want to run.
“Why are we doing this?” She groans as she watches me stretch my calves.
“In case you need to run,” I tell her a small piece of information.
Her face twists in confusion. “Why would I need to run?”
“In case we get caught,” I answer nonchalantly.
“Why would we get caught?” she asks.
I feel like I’m playing twenty questions with a kid here. I give her a serious look. “Enough questions.” I lead her over to the trail and start to run at a slow pace, I’m not sure how much stamina she has.
She heaves a breathless sigh. “I just want to know what I’m getting myself into.”
“Okay,” I hum under my breath, I’ll give her an inch. “If we get caught, I need to know that you can keep up with us. We might have to run, and I can’t leave you behind and we can’t risk getting taken in. So you need to be ready.”
She considers this for a moment; the wheels are turning in her head. “Oh,” she says.
I laugh, “Just oh?”
“So… if I can’t keep up, what happens?”
“That’s not an option.”
She stops suddenly, bringing her elbows to her knees and heaving a breath.
“Will you kill me, Gio?” She lifts those blue eyes to meet my gaze as she asks the question. The sound of my name on her lips sends sparks through my veins.
Will I kill her?
I don’t know how to answer that, I’ve never been in a position where I’ve had to leave a man behind.
“Annie,” I warn.
“Just tell me.” she pleads. “I’m the weak link here, will you kill me if this doesn’t work?”
“Annie,” I start, “If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.” I turn and start jogging again.
She doesn’t look convinced, but she picks up her pace and begins following me, anyway.
I lead us through the tree cover landscape. She breathes heavily behind me but she doesn’t stop or complain, just follows.
Her question plays on a loop through my head.
Will I kill her?
The trail is beautiful, but I still can’t shake the feeling that he’s leading me to my death.
I follow him anyway. Maybe that’s dumb, but I don’t see another option.
I wonder if he would let me buy my freedom? But then I would have to get fifty grand from someone else.
“Keep up,” he calls. He’s several paces ahead of me now.
He runs effortlessly, his breathing is even, and he can hold a conversation. It doesn’t help that he looks too good in a pair of snug running shorts and a white shirt. His t-shirt only showcases a small damp patch around the v of his back.
My shirt on the other hand is drenched in sweat and clinging to my body. I’m convinced there's a fire in my lungs, just burning away my insides. I hate running, but I don’t mind watching Gio run.
