So I huddle away against the nearest tree and cover myself with leaves, praying no one will see me.
More screams and metal clashing against metal follow. I try not to pay attention because it only makes my heart palpitate and my throat clamp up. I don’t want to be here. But I have no other choice but to listen to Chase.
If I try to flee now, someone will follow me. I just know it.
And then I die.
I refuse to die.
Another deafening gunshot rings in my ears. I place my hands over them and talk to myself.
“You’re safe. Nothing will happen. You’re alive. No one’s coming for you. Chase will find you.”
Chase will find you.
I hear it again and again in my head until there’s nothing else.
Nothing but me and my empty void.
Until his voice brings me back from the brink of insanity.
“Syrena.” I lower my hands, hoping it’s really him. Hoping he’ll have mercy.
What if this is it? What if he just needed to kill the men coming for me and then kill me himself? What if, by being here, I just signed my own death certificate?
No, he wouldn’t. He likes me, he said so himself. He’s been trying to woo me all this time. It wouldn’t make sense. Right?
He kneels in front of me, and then everything goes silent. The only things I hear are his rapid breaths and the wind rustling up the leaves.
My hand rises to find his face. I caress him softly even though my hand shakes when I touch the wetness on his skin. The blood.
I swallow away the lump in my throat.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I nod. I don’t feel any pain. I’m just … shocked.
He grabs my hand and pulls me up from the ground, but I’m so unsteady that I collapse in his arms. “Whoa, easy there,” he says.
Instead of letting me walk on my own, he picks up me and carries me. I don’t know where we’re going, but I feel weak from terror. Weak from what I just witnessed even though I still can’t fully grasp what just went down.
“Where to now?” Brandon suddenly asks. I didn’t even hear him approach. That’s how out of sync I am with the world right now.
“Home,” Chase says resolutely.
“What about the bodies?”
“Leave them.”
“What?” Brandon’s voice is sharp. “And then what? Let the cops find them?”
“I don’t care. Let them rot,” Chase snaps back.
“They could lead back to us.”
“Did you use gloves?” he asks, stopping in his tracks.
“Yeah.”
“Then we have nothing to worry about.”
“What about the tire tracks? Traces of blood?” Brandon adds.
“Blood can’t be traced back if we’re not in the system. And we don’t have cars with tires that rare. Everyone’s got this brand. That’s why we bought them,” Chase says. “We’ll each go our separate ways. That good enough?”
Brandon doesn’t respond any further, so I’m guessing they agreed with nods or exchanged a gaze. Chase begins to walk again and brings us back to his car, where he sets me down in the passenger’s seat and buckles up.
He sits down behind the wheel and starts the engine. Even though I hear the car moving, I don’t feel like I’m going anywhere. It’s as if I’m simply existing. Still processing the thoughts, sounds, and smells that bombarded me back there.
“I’m sorry,” he suddenly says. “I didn’t think they’d go to the car and try to get to you.”
I nod, but I don’t know what to say to that or what he wants me to do. So I just sit here and wait without saying a word the entire way back to his home.
The man sitting next to me feels distant. Like I don’t really know him … even when I am just starting to like him.
But now? I don’t know anything anymore. The whole world shifted on its axis the moment we came to the forest we’re now leaving behind. For a long time, I’d known he was hiding something … but this? I didn’t expect this.
This … killing spree.
Another shiver runs up and down my spine.
But the car’s already stopped, and within minutes, he’s taking me back up to his apartment. Back into that hole where he kept me hidden from the world. Was this the reason? These people who were just murdered?
I struggle to breathe. He shuts the door behind me, and as I stand in the middle of the living room and smell that familiar smell hovering close to me, my throat clamps up.
A hand is placed on my shoulder.
Soft and warm.
The hand of a killer.
“Are you afraid of me now?”
Just those simple words are enough to make sparks scatter all over my skin where he touches me.
I inch away and take a few steps backs, then turn around to face him, unsure of him. Unsure of me.
When I hear his feet shuffle closer, I take another step back. “Don’t.”