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Except...maybe me.
The realization threw me off guard and, for just a second, the memories I kept locked up deep slipped free. I thought of Lev. His laugh. How the wind ruffled his hair. The way he kissed me on the back of the neck, so softly I almost wondered if I was imagining it. The way, wherever in the world we were living, he would find the nearest used bookstore and begin filling the apartment with musty books—
I stumbled and almost fell. I recovered quickly and pushed the memories viciously down, locking them away. But I’d lost precious seconds. I cursed at myself and forced my legs into a desperate sprint, on and on until the lactic acid turned every stride into a burning agony. It still wasn’t enough. I could hear him right behind me, his boots pounding the ground.
I felt him grab for me, felt the breeze as his fingers closed just shy of my hair, and the fear spurred me on, buying me another few seconds.
Then he growled and threw himself at me. The solid, muscled mass of him took me right off my feet, and we went crashing to the ground.
I rolled and sprang to my feet, panting, a thread of fear unfurling within me. God, the brute power of him…it had been like being hit by a truck.
He was getting to his feet, too, slower than me but so big...he spread his arms wide and hunched over a little, and it was like facing off against a gorilla.
He grabbed for me. Time seemed to slow down and I just stared at the hand as it came towards me: the palm that could cup the entire side of my face, the fingers, twice as thick as mine, that could so powerfully squeeze or knead or—
Fortunately, my reflexes took over and I swayed to the side. His hand closed on thin air and I snapped out of it, breathless and furious at myself. I couldn’t afford to make a mistake with this man. He might be big and stupid but he was so strong that if he got hold of me just once, it would all be over.
A different sort of thread unfurled inside me. A gleaming silver one that looped right down to my groin, setting off another of those now-familiar tremors. That need to be weak. What is this?!
He advanced slowly, taking his time. I faked left, then dived right, rolling and coming up behind him. Before he could turn around, I kicked him in the back of the leg, hard enough that most men would have crumpled. He just grunted and scowled. God, he was made out of rock!
He shambled towards me again. I was running out of tricks. I’d lost the knife when I plunged into the lake. I grabbed a stone from the ground. It was roughly triangular with a good, sharp point…
My stomach tightened. The problem with hitting someone in the head is that it’s not like in the movies. To knock him out, I’d probably have to fracture his skull. And if I left him lying out here with a skull fracture, there was a good chance he’d die. That shouldn’t have bothered me, but it did.
He grabbed for me again. I ducked under his arm and swung with the stone, wincing, telling myself I had no choice—
His hand flashed up, shockingly quick, and grabbed my wrist. The stone stopped just short of his head. He pulled me towards him, dragging me off balance, and for a moment, our faces were less than an inch apart, our lips almost touching.
He glared down at me.
I glared up at him.
Then he shoved me backwards and I went sprawling on the ground. I tried to get up but he was already on top of me, slamming me back down. A knee pinned one of my thighs to the ground. Then his other knee trapped my other thigh.
I still had hold of the stone. I swung it in an arc but he grabbed my wrist again and pressed it down to the dirt. I clawed at his face with the one hand I still had free. He leaned back, dodging my nails. Then his hand darted out and strong fingers closed around my wrist. I heaved against his grip, determined to win, or at least to defy him, and for a second we strained against one another. I thought I saw something cross his face, something like respect.
Then he pushed. His bicep bulged and I felt my muscles give out. He forced my wrist down to the ground and that was it, I was completely trapped.
I lay there staring up at him, my chest heaving. He’d pinned me spread-eagled, my legs apart and my wrists wide above my head. I instinctively braced myself for what would happen next.
