“This isn’t going to make things easier. Do you think you can walk on it?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Did he…” I look around. “Did he come back?”
“No. You slashed his tires and emptied half his gas tank.”
I did, didn’t I? I also pissed him off. That probably wasn’t a good idea.
“I don’t know how I did that. I didn’t even think I had it in me, but I was so afraid.”
He strokes a piece of hair from my face. “Fear will do that to you. I’m proud of you. Fuck, when you fell from that tree I was sure I was going to lose you, but you were amazing.”
“I just did what I had to. You’re right, fear does bring out your fighting spirit. I don’t want to die, Noah,” I say softly, my voice hitching at the very idea that I came so close to it.
“Then we need to see if we can work out this leg. You will die if you can’t move.”
My heart clenches, but I swallow the worry down and nod. “Let’s do it.”
He stands first and then reaches for me. His hands curl around my upper arms, and he slowly helps me up. I put pressure on my leg, and while it’s painful, it doesn’t seem to be a great deal worse than when I was sitting down. “It doesn’t seem worse standing.”
“Try walking.”
I let him go and hobble a few steps. Each time I put pressure on my foot, a pain shoots through my calf—but again, it isn’t a great deal worse than the pain that’s already there. After a while, I have no doubt it will become more intense, but for right now I think it’s tolerable.
“It hurts, but it’s not impossible.”
He looks skeptical, but nods and says, “I think you should use a stick to take pressure off until…”
“Until he chases us again,” I finish for him.
He meets my eyes and holds them.
He understands.
“When do you think he’s going to come back?”
“I have no fucking idea, and I don’t like it. We need to find somewhere to rest, but I don’t know if he’s going to allow that.”
“How long does it take to change a tire?”
He shrugs. “On a motorbike, maybe two hours.”
“How long has it been?”
“You’ve been out cold for about forty minutes.”
“So we’ve got an hour.”
He nods. “Probably more, considering he had to get back. Let’s go with an hour to be safe.”
“So what do we do?”
He looks to the sky, body tense. “We prepare.”
Look at him trying to help her.
I shift the ice pack against my balls.
She has more guts than I first thought. I grin at the idea. I wanted her weak, but out there today, chasing her, fighting with her, God, it was incredible.
More than I ever thought it would be.
He couldn’t get to her, and that made it even more intense.
She has some fight, the way she ruined my bike. I think I’m going to have fun with her. No, I know I’m going to have fun with her.
I’m going to make her wish she wasn’t born, and I’m going to do it slowly.
So comfort away, Noah. It won’t matter what you do.
Lara just became my prize.
THIRTEEN
Noah finds a straight stick and re-straps my leg after washing it in the stream. I try not to stare at the small, clean hole, but mostly I try not to worry about the infection that could easily come from a wound like that. There isn’t a great deal I can do about it, so I’m trying to take my mind off it. It’s hard when the throb is radiating through my body with every step I take.
“You still got weapons?” Noah asks, handing me some water. His eyes are constantly scanning the trees.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t think going up in the trees is going to work for us again. Even if you were in better shape for climbing, somehow that fucker knew exactly where we were.”
I shift on my position on the log, taking a long drink of water before contemplating what he said. “Yeah,” I say. “How do you think he knew that?”
“I’m missing something. I just don’t know what it is.”
“He’s got cameras everywhere. Maybe they’re in the trees.”
“No,” he says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “No, he wouldn’t have them that high.”
“Maybe he’s got a few up there, too?”
“Maybe, but it seems far too difficult. I’ll work it out. For now we need to figure out what we’re going to do the next time he comes.”
“Do we hide? Do we run? Do we just fight?”
Noah’s jaw tics and he runs a tired hand through his hair. “I don’t fuckin’ know.”
My heart pounds with a familiar feeling of fear and desperation. We both know he’s coming back. Neither of us knows when, but it could be any second, or it could be hours. But he is coming back. And he has the ability to find us. He has the ability to hurt us. To make us suffer even more. Any more injuries like the one I received today, and we might not have a good deal of fight left in us.
I rack my brain. There has to be a way to find some sort of safety. I think of everything I’ve seen out here, but it’s all just trees and a stream. A stream. God, how did I miss the stream? Most water supplies come from a bigger body of water. They don’t just appear with no source. I stand and shuffle closer to Noah and whisper in his ear, “What about the water?”
“What about it?”
“Well, it has to be coming from somewhere, right? We never followed the stream, but maybe we should. I mean, you’d assume it gets deeper, or maybe will lead us to a waterfall. If we walk through the water instead of outside it, he’s going to find it a good deal harder to get hold of us—he’s been counting on us not being able to get off the track, but I don’t actually think he considered the stream. He’ll have to get off his motorbike, and we have a far bigger advantage that way.”
He jerks his head back and meets my eyes, then nods. “You have a point, but it may not lead anywhere and we could be wasting our time.”
“It’s the only part of the forest, outside of his track, that isn’t covered so thickly we can’t move through it.”
“You’re right. It’s worth the risk to find out.”
“Let’s go, then.”
His breath tickles my ear as he leans in. “It’s going to be harder for you to move through the water.”
I shrug. “It’s that or die, Noah. I don’t want to die.”
He pulls back and his brows shoot up. “Who are you and what did you do with Lara?”
I give him a weak smile. “Lara doesn’t want to die today.”
He cups my face in his hands. “Not going to let you die.”
My heart pounds and we hold each other’s gaze for so long, I’m sure he’s going to lean in and kiss me. The air is thick around us and the tension is out of this world. I swallow back the lump in my throat and whisper, “Then let’s get moving.”
“Let’s get moving,” he agrees, voice tight.
We fill our coconuts again and shove our spears into our pants. Then we step into the stream and start walking. Noah’s right, it’s a good deal harder than I first thought it would be, and every step is agony on my leg. But I was also right: The farther downstream we move, the deeper it gets. And as we move in deeper, the stream washes over my wound, numbing it with cold water.
“You okay?” Noah asks after about an hour of silence.
“I can’t feel my leg anymore. I think the water numbed it completely.”
“Probably not the best idea to keep it so wet,” he murmurs.
“No, but what other choice do we have?”
He makes a throaty, angry sound and keeps walking in silence.
We’re deeper in the forest now. Trees skirt the edge of the stream and they’re cramped together, but stop neatly on the edge, with the occasional few dipping over. We have to push past those, but it’s a great deal better than moving on foot down
a track created to hunt us.
“This was a good idea,” Noah grunts, pushing his big legs through the water. “But fuck, it’s hard work.”
“You’re telling me,” I say, voice strained as I force my body to take yet another step.
“Tell me something, distract me from listening for that fuckin’ awful noise to come.”
“What do you want me to tell you?” I ask, grunting as the water gets even deeper.
“I don’t know. Anything. What’s your favorite childhood memory? Something I don’t already know.”
Odd question, but if it distracts me and him for even a second, I’ll give it a go.
“My mom got me a puppy when I was five. It was so ugly. I can’t even describe how ugly this puppy was. She saved it from a shelter, but it looked like some kind of alien dog. It was skinny with bald patches, with big bulging eyes and an underbite. I loved it, though. I wanted a puppy for so long, I just didn’t see how hideous it was until I got old enough to walk it and people used to point on the street.”
He chuckles.
I laugh, softly. “Anyway, one day I was walking Pigsy down the street—”
“Wait, Pigsy?” he says, stopping and giving me a horrified look.
I grin. “Yep, Pigsy. I know, it’s awful. It seems fitting now that I look back, though. I have no idea how I came up with that name for her.”
He keeps walking with a throaty snort.
“Anyway, I was walking her down the street when this old woman stopped me and told me that my dog was quite possibly the ugliest thing she’d ever seen. I was so upset, so devastated. I loved Pigsy. So I told her that if she wants to see an even uglier dog she should look in the mirror.”
Noah barks a laugh.
“She grabbed me by the arm and dragged me back to my house, horrified. She told my mom what I’d said and what an awful child I was for being so rude. Do you know what my mom said to her?”
“I’m not sure I want to.”
I smile at the memory. “She said, ‘My daughter has an eye for beauty, I guess you left yours at home today. You can’t blame the girl for calling it like she sees it.’”
Noah chuckles. “God, now I see where you get it from.”
“The old woman was so angry, she turned and stormed off. Every time she saw me walking Pigsy after that, she’d turn away and huff, but I’d always wave and greet her.”
Noah chuckles. “I miss that side of you.”
It feels like a punch in the gut, and I turn to him, whispering, “That side of me got my nanna killed.”
“Lara,” he says softly.
“That Lara ruined my life.”
“That Lara didn’t ruin your life. You’ve gone from one extreme to the other instead of learning to be more balanced. You were such a firecracker and now you’re not. You let that Lara disappear completely when you should have kept part of her, because she made you who you are.”
As much as he’s right—and I know he’s right—those words hurt me. Irrationally so.
“What if I’ll never be that Lara again?” My voice is soft and a little wounded.
Noah stops walking again and turns, eyes on mine. “You don’t need to be that Lara. But you can’t be this shell of a person that you’ve been, either.”
I wince. “Ouch.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Didn’t you?” I say, dragging my gaze from his and walking past him.
“Lara,” he growls, coming after me. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I think you did. We’re in this mess because I’m weak and fragile now and that sicko thought it would be great fun to throw me in the mix because of that. You’ve made a few comments about how I am. It seems you’d prefer if I was that tough, smart-ass person again. You know I can’t be her again. You saw what I went through when Nan died, Noah. I will not lose someone I love again because of that. Nanna warned me, and the least I can do to honor her memory is take her advice and not be that person.”
“You’re putting words into my mouth,” he snaps.
“No, Noah. I’m just putting your words together.”
“Bullshit. I fell in love with you because of the way you are. I like this soft, fragile girl that you are now, too. I fell in love with that side of you after Nanna died. But I also liked the little firecracker I met. I hate that you felt you had to be something different. I hate that you think you’re not enough, and that I’d sleep with another woman because of it.”
I flinch and keep walking.
“Lara,” he hisses.
I ignore him because he’s right and I’m a damned idiot.
“Lara!”
He barks that one.
I turn to have my say when I hear it. He does, too, because he stops mid-yell and his eyes flash. The motorbike. It’s a fair bit away, but the low hum is definitely there.
“Run,” Noah barks. “Now.”
I don’t wait. I start running as fast as I can in the knee-deep water. I give up after about three steps and drop down, using my entire body to glide through the water faster. It’s barely deep enough and my stomach drags across the logs and rocks below, but I’d rather this than to face what’s coming up behind us.
“Noah?” I call.
“Keep going,” he yells.
I do. I just keep going.
The bike is closer now and frustration and fear clash in my chest. Frustration that this man seems to be able find us no matter what we do and fear because he’s going to come and I have no idea what’s in store.
“The water gets deeper ahead, swim faster.”
Noah’s right: Up ahead the water darkens and the stream widens. It’s getting deeper. Thankfully we chose the right direction to go. If we’d have gone the other way, it would have faded out into nothing. This way is taking us to the source of the water, and we can only pray it’s deep and long enough to give us a good escape.
The bike is so close, the loud rumble pierces my ears. Fear makes its way throughout my body and I swim faster, using my legs to push me through the water by kicking off rocks. Noah is beside me, pushing along, too. His big body strains as he tries to glide through the water. Do I look the same? I don’t think I’ve ever swum so hard or fast in my entire life.
“Nice choice, going for the water.”
That voice. God, where do I know that voice?
My skin prickles and I make a pained sound in my throat.
“Do not answer, keep swimming,” Noah urges.
“I mean, I guess I’d go for the water, too, if I were in your shoes. It’ll lead you nowhere, but by all means keep trying.”
“Go under the water,” Noah hisses through his teeth. “As much as you can. Any weapon is going to have a harder time hitting you under the water. Don’t look back for me. Just swim, Lara.”
“Where are you going?” I cry frantically when he moves toward the edge.
“I’m going to kill the fucker.”
No.
He’ll be killed.
“Noah!”
His eyes meet mine and the look in them sends fear right to my core. “Go under, go forward. Don’t stop. Don’t look back. I will find you, Lara. But don’t stop.”
“Noah, no,” I beg. “He has a gun.”
“He won’t kill me, not yet. I’m fairly confident of that.”
That’s a big risk to take.
“He can hurt you. Noah, please…”
He stops swimming and comes back over, reaching for me, big hands on my shoulders. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes but—”
He slams his mouth over mine, kissing me hard and fast before pulling back. “Then do as I say.”
A tear runs down my cheek, but I nod. I take a deep breath and go under the water just as the sound of a gun firing can be heard through the trees. Pain, panic, and terror mix themselves inside me and I fight against the urge to pass out and vomit, possibly both at the same time. I swim hard and I swim fast, only coming up for air every few seco
nds. I’ve always been a good swimmer, doing fairly well at lessons, but this is pushing my limits.
I continue until my entire body is screaming for relief. I have to come up. The water isn’t overly deep, but it’s deep enough for me to fully immerse myself beneath it.
I skim the surface, lifting just my head out. I can’t hear anything. I look around: I’m in a dark area of the forest. The trees are so thick, the sun can’t penetrate their thick branches coated with green leaves. The stream has widened into a large creek and I can hear the distinct sounds of a waterfall. Possibly some rapids. I wipe the water from my face with my hands and listen.
Where is Noah? Is he hurt? Worse? I swim to the side of the creek and pull my tired, aching body out. I can barely squeeze through the trees, they’re that close together, but I find one with a wide enough gap beside it to sit with my back to the trunk.
And I just keep listening.
I can’t hear him.
I can’t hear anything.
Oh God, please don’t let him be dead.
FOURTEEN
I sit against that tree for what seems like hours. I don’t know where Noah is; I don’t know if I should go and find him or just wait. My mind is a jumbled mess. If I go after him, I could get lost and might not see him again—or worse, I’ll get killed and really make a mess of this. He wants me to trust him so I’ll trust that he’ll find me. He knows I’m in the water. If he’s okay, he’ll come find me here. If he’s okay. My heart twists at the very thought.
Pain lodges itself in my throat and I drop my head in my hands and try to breathe through it.
Losing my leg is a scary reality. Losing Noah is pure torture. I’ve already lost him once, God. The pain of that will never leave my mind.
I drag my things into Rachel’s apartment, face covered with dried tears. I’ve gotten all my things from Noah’s house. I can’t be there anymore. The image of him kissing that girl sends agony ripping through my chest. I’ll never be able to unsee it. Never be able to live with it. How could he do that to me? I already know how. I let my nan die, I shut down, why the hell would he want to be with me?
But still. I thought …
God. I don’t know what I thought.
“You okay?” Rachel asks, coming over and wrapping an arm around my shoulder.