Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 167671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 838(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 838(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
The front wheel has been taken off.
Oh God.
The front door slams open.
Shit, no time to think.
I run off into Priory Forest, not even checking where I’m going as I need to get away from them as quick as possible. I fall over a couple of rocks and catch myself on the ground, grazing my skin until it bleeds, but I still keep going. Because when I glance over my shoulder, two dark figures are chasing my tracks, their masks like warning signals beaming through the woods.
“Keep running, little thief!” Silas’s voice booms through the woods. “I’m still going to catch you.”
He’s insane. He’s completely, utterly insane!
I go to the left and zigzag downhill through the forest, trying to shake them off by disappearing in the sea of leaves, but every time I look, they’re still there, running after me like hounds who’ve been set loose … and I’m the prey they’re going to catch.
“Run all you want, but there’s no escaping us, Ivy,” Heath calls out.
I glance over my shoulder.
THWACK!
A knife whooshes right past me and lands in the tree beside my face, barely avoiding my skin.
I rip it out and keep running as I tuck it into my pocket. If they don’t stop coming after me, then at least I’ll be ready when they pounce on me.
“Yes, that’s it. Run, little thief,” Silas growls. “Do you even know how badly it turns me on?”
A maniacal laughter follows that makes me acutely aware of every step I take.
My feet hurt from running across gravel and uneven ground with only socks on, but I refuse to give up. I have to get out before they find me, but they’re slowly catching up to me with every passing minute.
I only have one choice—lay low and hide.
From the corner of my eye, I spot an alcove with an overhanging rock overgrown with bushes, and I make a beeline for it when they’re momentarily out of sight. I jump underneath and throw a whole pile of leaves on top of my body while I make myself as tiny as possible.
The wind blows through the trees, making them sound alive as they creak with movement, the howling noise making me shiver. But I stay put with my breath held and my body stiff as can be while their footsteps close in.
“Oh, twig, where are you hiding?” Silas yells.
“Come out now, and we might go easy on you,” Heath adds, but I can hear them snigger at each other.
Lies.
Even though I can’t see them, I can hear them circling the area, kicking leaves aside with every step. And then … nothing.
The wait seems forever.
Did they bolt off in a different direction?
My eyes open slightly, and I gaze around through the debris I stacked on top of myself while hidden in this alcove.
Maybe I managed to shake them off?
I take in a deep breath as my eyes skid across the forest floor. I don’t hear a single step.
“Nothing excites me more than hunting a wicked … little … thief.”
His voice is the first thing I hear before sparkling green eyes connect with mine … floating right above me. A devilishly sharp grin grows behind the mask as Silas leans over the stone.
“Boo.”
CHAPTER 9
Max
I jump on my motorcycle, put on my helmet, and race across town. There’s no time to waste. They’ve already caught her, I’m sure of it.
Heath should’ve told me they’d follow me to the sandwich shop, but of course he didn’t.
Does he even trust me?
I already thought it was weird Heath handed me those bills. I should’ve put two and two together. He wanted me to be her honey trap.
I make my way up the mountain slope, zigzagging across the road to avoid fallen rocks. It’s hard and perilous with that steep drop-off right beside the road, but I know how to stay out of danger. At least when it comes to nature.
I push the throttle to go faster and faster, trying not to lose my grip as I pass The Shack, a long-abandoned house on the hills rumored to be filled with the ghosts of murder victims.
But when a scream emanates from the woods behind the house, I hit the brakes.
“Ivy,” I mutter to myself.
That was definitely her.
I turn my motorcycle around and race toward the house, then head off the beaten path and into the woods. Brambles and bushes hit me around the ears, and a scrape on my shin makes me hiss. This forest is too dense to continue by motorbike, so I park it against a tree, take off my helmet, then run farther on foot.
I’m too far away for them to see me, but I see them.
Two masked men, hovering near a stone alcove in the middle of the woods.
I slide behind two trees and hide, observing from afar … wondering what they’re going to do to her.