Page 46 of If You Dare

My ears strain, trying to pick up the crunch of his boots across the ground. But there’s nothing. Did he head in the other direction?

I’m alone.I’m alone. My heart hammers, on the verge of exploding. Maybe I’m going to survive another night.

Soundlessly, I peer around the massive trunk of the tree—

Wes slams me back against the bark, knocking the breath out of me.

When I part my lips to scream, one hand clamps over my mouth and the other around my throat. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Fuck.Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m dead. This is where he kills me.

My feet scramble to kick his legs, my nails dig at his arms. I manage to pry his hand off my mouth, but he keeps me pinned. “What do you want from me?” I plead.

Wes leans close, hot breath hitting my ear through his mask. “Get out of my fucking head.” His growl fills me from my ear to my toes.

God, I wish I could. Wish I could erase my existence from his memory. Except part of me aches at the thought of us forgetting everything we shared before Chloe died.

While she was still here, I thought...I thought I was falling for Wes. And I thought he was falling for me. I don’t want to erase those moments. They’re some of my happiest memories.

But that’s all they are now. We’ll never, ever get that back.

His grip around my neck tightens. “You should be dead. Not her.”

“I know,” I whisper. “I wish that’s what happened.”

Something in his eyes changes. Like he didn’t expect that. How could he not? He knows how much I love Chloe. She’s always been a better person than me, destined for bigger things. She was going to be an Olympian. Known around the world for how she sailed across the ice. How she made every movement look effortless. How she madelifelook effortless. More people loved her, more people were devastated by her loss than would ever be hurt by mine.

If one of us needed to end up in a grave, it should’ve been me.

A shout from the parking lot pulls us out of our staring contest. “Novak!” Trey has returned for his captain.

I kick out at Wes, managing to shake him off with the element of surprise.

But I don’t get far. He knocks me to the ground, hard as a brick wall behind me. I cry out as the pain lashes through my body. He flips me so I’m on my back and plants a hand over my mouth, his body flattening me into the earth.

My heart slams against my ribcage, but Wes doesn’t yank my clothes off. He doesn’t move, listening for Trey to find us.

When the shouts grow distant, he returns that laser focus to me.

I should be terrified. I’m entirely at the mercy of someone who hates me. Who wants me dead.

But all I can think about is the way his lips felt against mine when he finally kissed me for the first time. The way my heart soared and my toes curled. And all the times I’ve imagined us in this position, in my bed, in his bed, on the floor. Wherever he wanted to take me.

His piercing blue eyes remain glued to my face. He’s trembling with restraint until something clicks and his restraint dissolves as his hand moves to his belt. “Don’t make a fucking sound.”

The leather hisses as he pulls it free from his jeans. I’m pinned beneath him as he straddles me, his other hand fastened across my mouth. My hands tremble, but I’m not consumed by the same overwhelming terror I felt with the rest of the team.

Part of me—an insane, unhinged part—wants to know what Wes is going to do with that belt.

He leans forward, mask filling my vision as he slides the cool leather behind my neck and loops it around, tightening and securing it against my throat. So tight, I gasp in a breath, panic rising as my airway is restricted.

With one hand, he holds the belt out, keeping it tight. “If you scream, I’ll make sure you stop breathing.”

His other hand finally drifts from my mouth and down my shirt.

Even with his threat wrapped around my throat, I could scream. But I don’t. Trey would be the one to find us, and he wouldn’t have rescue on his mind.

He’d join.

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