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Running away was definitely on the list of:Ways to Cross Grey.I had to see this through.
I needed to run.
Adrenaline rushed through me in wild, violent waves. I used every ounce of strength to pull myself to the top of the iron gates, the way the guys used to climb the ropes in gym class. One hand over the other, pulling, stretching, using my feet as leverage, until I was finally at the top. It was a good ten feet off the ground, and I’d never jumped that far before but I had no choice. I couldn’t go back. I braced one foot between the sharp iron finials that decorated the top of the gate. I grabbed hold of one of the finials, using it to pull myself up and braced the other foot. Here, squatted like a frog ready to leap, with my hands gripping the finials on either side of me, my feet braced on the narrow top rail of the fence, and another finial centimeters away from my crotch, I squeezed my eyes shut and channeled my inner badass.You. Can. Do. This.
There was only one way down now—a split-second of courage separating me from the outside world.
So, I sucked in a deep breath and I jumped.
Sharp, splintering pain shot from my right ankle all the way up to my hip, and I felt like I was going to throw up all over the ground in front of me.
Fuck.
Pieces of gravel dug into my palms where I used them to brace my fall. I winced as I wiped them together, the tiny rocks embedded into my skin and not wanting to break loose. The tears were inevitable.
Something rustled in the trees beside me. My conscience whispered.
Get up.
Run.
Now.
And I did.
I shot up and ran as fast as my feet would take me. The moonlight cut through the branches of the tall trees lining the edge of the road. Every once in a while, a soft orange glow came from the gas lanterns on the posts along the way. Shadows flashed in my peripheral. Maybe animals. Maybe something else.Maybe Grey.
My pulse raced and my lungs burned. I ran blindly, stepping in holes and stumbling on rocks. The pain in my ankle stung with every step I took, but I couldn’t stop. The need for survival pushed me forward.
Finally, after a curve in the road, a house came into view. It was quaint. Just a small home made of brick and stone, but a dim light shone through the window.
Someone was home… and they were awake.
I walked the cobblestone path to the front door. Apprehension froze my hand in mid-air as I brought it to knock on the heavy wood surface. What if they knew Grey? What if they brought me back to him?
The wind around me picked up, swirling leaves in the air. It almost felt like a whisper—a warning. My ankle was throbbing and my breath rasped in my chest. There was no telling how far away the next house was from here or if I’d even make it.
I swallowed hard and steeled myself. Goosebumps scattered across my flesh. Then I blew out a long breath and knocked. Just once. A polite tap, in case they weren’t actually awake.
The door opened and a middle-aged man wearing a black long-sleeved t-shirt with jeans and a beanie stood on the other side. He wasn’t much taller than me, leaving his dark, beady eyes almost level with mine. He ran his tongue along the back of his teeth with ahissas he sucked in a breath.
I crossed my arms in front of me, suddenly feeling the urge to protect myself. “Hi. I’m sorry. I know it’s late.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re American,” he said with a thick Scottish accent.
“Yes. And I need your help.”
The stranger raised his eyebrows. “They tell’t me ye’d come.” The sparkle in his eye made me nervous. “They said all I had to do was wait.” His gaze raked over me from head to toe.
I took a step back, wincing at the pain in my ankle. An uneasy feeling prickled my skin. The kind of feeling that overcame you when you walked into a haunted house or a cemetery at midnight. The kind of feeling that whisperedsomething evil this way comes.
A smile tilted his lips. “I didna reckon you’d show up so soon.”
Unspeakable fear gripped my throat, making it nearly impossible to breathe. “I think you have the wrong person.”
He grabbed my arm and yanked me inside. I struggled to get free, pulling my arm away and clawing at him with my free hand. His rough palm slapped my face, sending a rush of heat over my cheek and stabbing pain to my temple. A heavy weight struck me hard in the lower back, like the bottom of a boot, pitching me forward until my face and chest slammed against a wall. He pressed his chest to my back, his weight pinning me to the wall as he leaned forward and rasped against my ear.
“Oh, I have the right person…” He licked the side of my face. “…Lyric.” He gripped my chin between his fingers and turned my head to the side, bringing us face-to-face. His breath reeked of cheap alcohol and cigarette smoke. “I get to do whatever I want with ye until they get here.”
