Page 13 of Run Little Fawn

Did she seriously not know she wasn't talking to me?

Then I scrolled down and saw she'd texted the Hunter a picture of herself posing with the giant new purple dildo she won at Jules's bachelorette party.

Yeah. She did not know she was talking to a serial killer.

What. The. Fuck.

The walls seem to close in around me, the air thick and cloying in my lungs. He infiltrated my life, violated me in ways I can't even begin to fathom.

And getting help isn't an option. Not with the lives of my mom, my sister, and my best friend hanging in the balance.

I'm on my own. A fox in a forest full of wolves with nothing but my wits and the thudding pulse of my own fear to guide me.

Or am I more like a fawn now?

I put my phone on the table next to the one the Hunter gave me and shoulder my duffel bag. I'm moving again, a whirlwind of nervous energy propelling me out the door. I have to put as much distance between myself and my old life as possible.

I flag down a cab, giving the driver an address on the other side of town. He grunts in acknowledgment and I stare out the window as the familiar streets blur past, my neighborhood fading into the distance like a half-remembered dream.

When we arrive at the bus station downtown, I pay the driver in cash, not wanting to leave any kind of electronic trail. Not that I think it'll help. The station is already bustling with activity, commuters jostling for position in the ticket lines. I join the throng, keeping my head down and my eyes averted, just another anonymous face in the crowd.

I buy a ticket for a bus heading west, the destination less important than the distance it will put between me and my home. As I settle into my seat, the cheap vinyl squeaking beneath me, I finally allow myself a moment to breathe, to try to process the insanity of the last few hours.

But even as I close my eyes, the images play behind my eyelids like a twisted slideshow.

The phone.

The money.

The ominous black card.

My mother's voice, so blissfully unaware of the danger lurking just out of frame. Natalie's clueless texts.

And him.

The Hunter, the wolf, the faceless specter pulling the strings of my life like a puppet master.

I shudder, wrapping my arms around myself as if I can physically hold the pieces of my shattered reality together. One question burns brighter in my mind than any others.

How far am I willing to go to survive?

Chapter Six

THE FAWN

The bus rumbles to life, the vibrations shaking me out of my spiraling thoughts. I force myself to focus on the present, on the practicalities of my situation. I need a plan, a strategy, some way to stay one step ahead of the Hunter.

First things first, I need to find a place to lay low, to regroup and gather my wits. Somewhere I can hole up and figure out my next move.

I check my duffel bag to make sure the cash is still there. It's more money than I've ever had, but it feels like a pittance compared to the enormity of what I'm up against.

Still, it's a start. Enough to buy myself some time to think.

As the miles slip by and my life fades into the distance, I let my mind wander, trying to make sense of the impossible situation I find myself in. I try to picture Lucian's face, to conjure up some image of the person who's turned my life upside down, but all I can see are those piercing gray eyes behind the mask.

Last night was such a haze, I don't remember if he had any distinguishing features other than hot as fuck, but in a menacing way that should've been a bigger red flag if I'd been thinking clearly. I just hadn't thought anyone actually acted like that in real life. All the psychos I've ever known have been perfectly normal people. Or greasy.

Lucian is neither.

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