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Fatigue settled in. Not enough sleep, not enough food, too much anxiety, treacherous conditions.
Still, I didn’t stop. I pressed on, the sudden resurrection of the horrible past I’d tried so hard to forget giving me the push I needed. Memories of Viktor’s face, my father’s beady eyes, my grandmother’s disappointment, the baby I’d lost, they all floated around me like apparitions.
My eyes filled with tears. I sniffed, ground my teeth, and forced myself to pick up speed.
I hate you.
I hate you.
I hate you, Daddy.
20
Justin
Iknelt down, examining the small boot prints in the snow. They began underneath the bathroom window and disappeared into the woods.
Son of a bitch.
She ran. The crazy woman actually ran.
A stupid,stupiddecision. What could she possibly have for survival? A bar of soap, a razor, and a toothbrush? And why would she make such an irrational, idiotic decision, especially in this weather?
Above, the sky swirled an angry gray. Soon, the snow would begin again, and with this wave, temperatures were expected to plummet. Whatthe hellwas she thinking?
I was angry—furious—but mixed in there somewhere was a mound of guilt. I had scared Sophia enough to make her think that I was as bad as whoever was chasing her. In her mind, sneaking out in the middle of a blizzard was safer than staying with me.
It was hard to stomach.
I’d let many women down by not being what they needed in their worst moments. Well, one. Only one.
Now two.
Fuming, I sprinted to the SUV I’d hidden fifty yards behind Sophia’s cabin. Thankfully, the goons from the night before hadn’t spotted it. The first thing I did was retrieve my SAT phone from the glove box and send Leo a message.
We need to talk. Sophia is Aleks Petrova—Kusma’s daughter, not his wife.
It took ten minutes to shovel my way out of the snow. With each stab, I thought about Sophia, her little feet trudging through the heavy drifts. How tired her legs must be. How worried I was for her.
Working to my advantage was the fact that I was mildly familiar with the dirt roads, thanks to my lengthy search for her after she’d run from me the first time, and I also knew which direction she’d gone.
I did a quick calculation in my head. Sophia had a thirty-minute head start on me. She was five foot three, a buck thirty at best, and was going on zero sleep. Considering the weather and the dangerous terrain, I guessed she wasn’t much more than a mile from her home.
Eyes peeled, I drove slowly through the tunnel of trees, my windows down so I could hear if she screamed.
I didn’t know what color clothing she was wearing, so I didn’t have that to my advantage. If she were smart, she’d have dressed herself in white to avoid being spotted, but something told me she hadn’t put that much thought into her escape.
The early morning light washed the freshly fallen snow in a gloomy gray. Every few minutes, I’d hear the crack of a branch breaking under the weight of the snow, and I’d pray Sophia wasn’t under it.
I was sick with worry.
So many scenarios went through my head, like, had she contacted someone from Black Cell to come pick her up? Yes, cell reception was shoddy, but Sophia knew the area well, which meant she knew where to hike for reception. If this were the case, I was out there chasing my damn tail, giving her exactly what she wanted—lots of time to put lots of distance between us.
I had underestimated Sophia, aka Aleks Petrova. In under twenty-four hours, she had escaped me not once, but twice.
Thirty minutes turned into an hour. The wind picked up, howling like a banshee through the trees. Snow started falling heavily again around hour two. At hour three, my sense of urgency turned into panic.
Screw the mission. If I didn’t find Sophia, she was going to die.
