Chased (Savage Men 3)

I’ll accept whatever fate brings.

Accompanying Song: “U Don’t Know” by Alison Wonderland ft. Wayne Coyne

Syrena

I hold my breath as the door slams shut and another one opens. My body ceases moving the moment the door disappears from under my feet as I was kicking it. He opened it.

Is he letting me out?

Should I take my chance and run?

No time to waste, but what do I do? Fight him?

“Before you get anything in your head … don’t.”

Was that a threat? Is he carrying a weapon? I swallow away the lump in my throat.

I have to be careful around him. I don’t know this man.

I didn’t know Graham either, but at least I understood his patterns, his behavior … after a while.

But this? This is something entirely different.

I’ve been taken out of my cage, out of the compound, driven somewhere in a car of which I don’t recognize the smell. None of this is familiar to me, which makes it all the more frightening.

Moments such as these are when I miss the ability to see the most.

When it’s fight or flight.

“What do you want from me?” I ask, my voice quaking with fear I don’t want him to hear.

He snorts and says, “Give me your hand.”

I contemplate whether to trust him. What’s the worst that can happen? If he wanted to kill me, he could use any weapon he has. Doesn’t need his hands to do it. So it must be safe … right?

I hesitate but then hold out my hand anyway, and he pulls me out of the car.

“Strong enough to stand?” he asks.

I nod.

“To run?”

I suck in a breath.

Run? Why?

“Answer me.” His voice is commanding. Not at all sweet. There’s nothing poking at my back, no gun, but the sound of his growl is enough to make me do whatever he wants.

“Yes,” I say, feeling the power return to my legs.

“Good …” he murmurs. “Show me.”

“What? Now?”

“Yes,” he groans. I’m suddenly aware of how close he is to my ears. “Run.”

A shiver runs up and down my spine. “Where?”

“Away … from me.”

I shake my head as my hands touch the car, and I immediately jump back and turn around.

I don’t understand … why does he want me to run away from him?

But more importantly … what is he going to do me?

I don’t wait to find out.

I immediately start running.

It wasn’t his words that pulled the trigger. Or the car. Or the need in my bones to get away.

It was the sheer delight in his voice when he told me I needed to run from him.

I bounce across the ground, kicking away the rocks as best as I can, even though I can’t see them coming. As a blind girl, I’ve learned how to run while holding my feet as firmly to the ground as I possibly can so I don’t slip.

Still, I can’t avoid everything, and a sudden big rock trips me, and I fall.

My knees burn, but the footsteps behind me make me jump up as fast as I can, and I keep running. I can’t stop. I won’t stop.

This is my only shot at freedom.

My life in my own hands.

I haven’t felt the heat of the sun on my skin since I was in that damp cage in the compound. Haven’t tasted the fresh air on my tongue or smelled the scent of burning ground in ages.

And it’s invigorating.

It gives me the energy I need to fight.

To flee and run for my life.

My muscles ache, but that won’t stop me from running.

I’m out of breath, but I keep going. I refuse to stop.

Not even when I fall and have to crawl back up again, multiple times.

Nothing motivates me more than the threat of pain.

Because this man … is right behind me.

And I don’t know what will happen if he ever manages to catch me.

I can’t let it happen.

But I can hear his growls and footsteps just as hard behind me, and they never disappear. Not even when I push myself to run so fast my legs feel like they’re about to cave.

Suddenly, something latches on to my ankles, and I topple over.

“Got you …”

I squeal when he crawls on top of me. I fight, but he’s much stronger than I am, and he’s quickly covered my body with his, making it impossible to crawl away.

“Too slow,” he says, his voice low and slick as he keeps me pinned to the ground.

“Please …” I mumble, tears welling up in my eyes.

I managed to roll onto my back when he grabbed me, but now I fear what’s going to happen.

Something sharp slides along my neck. Something cold … and metallic.

Tears well up in my eyes. “Please …” I mutter again, almost choking on my own words.

“Shhh …” he whispers, his voice so soft it’s like that of a demon disguised as an angel.