Page 13 of Blood
And maybe the high school track was smoother terrain than the twisted mass of roots that catch my feet with every step, forcing me to alter my gait into short, choppy steps. The dry leaves that coat the forest floor hide them, too, so I can’t concentrate on anything other than where I’m stepping.
I’ve barely run for five minutes when I slow, panting hard. I can’t be this out of shape. It’s the terrain, or maybe it’s that my heart’s been beating out of my chest since the minute I saw him in Bobby’s apartment. He gave me a head start, so I should have some cushion.
I soon find an area where several trees stand together and hide behind them. I strain my ears for any sound of movement. At first, there’s just the rustle of leaves in the soft breeze.
Then the crunch of leaves underfoot.
It sounds distant, but it’s there. I listen again, trying to see which direction it came from, but it’s silent now.
He’s out here, though.
I push off the trees and keep running, slower this time. If I fall or twist an ankle, I have no chance. And they say slow and steady wins the race, like the tortoise and the hare, but in this scenario, I’m the rabbit. And there’s no turtle, just a predator on my heels.
The crunch of leaves underfoot is giving away my position. I can only hope I’m faster than him. I must be. Right?
Another few minutes of running and I’m breathing hard again. I slow to a walk, trying to make my steps silent. I listen. There are no sounds other than the chirping of birds and the humming of the forest.
It’s early, so I have time to find shelter before night comes. Water, too.
I freeze when I hear the crackle of leaves, holding my breath. Is it him?
A chipmunk darts across my path.
I laugh in relief. I’m so in my head that a fucking chipmunk scared me.
“Something funny, little rabbit?” The deep, familiar voice comes from behind me. Shit.
I let out a scream, then start running again, faster. Adrenaline courses through my veins.
I only make it about ten yards before he grabs the back of my shirt, stopping me in my tracks and forcing me to the ground. The layer of dead leaves doesn’t offer much padding, and the dirt below is cold. Twigs scrape against my arms.
“Got you,” he growls.
Wolf places one knee on either side of my hips, holding me in place while I struggle. My hands pushing at his legs do absolutely nothing to move his bulk. His hand dips into his pocket and comes back with a switchblade. He opens it with a flick of his wrist, then holds it up so I can see.
The cold metal gives off a dangerous glint in the sunlight filtering through the dense trees. I hold my breath as fear trickles down my spine.
“Are you going to be a good girl for me?”
“Yes,” I whisper, too afraid to move. My heart is hammering so hard I hear the blood rushing through my head.
Now that he’s looming over me, the idea that he’s going to fuck me isn’t exactly as exciting as it was when it was just a vague possibility. It’s terrifying. He’s huge. I know he won’t be gentle.
I swallow hard. “I’ll behave. I promise. You can take me back to the cabin. I’ll be good.”
“Too late for that, little rabbit. You chose to run, knowing exactly what would happen.” He lifts the blade and brings it down through my shirt, slicing the fabric in two so it falls away from my body, revealing my bra.
He cuts through that, too.
My breasts are on full display to him, and my fucking nipples are hard as pebbles. I could make any number of excuses for this. It’s the cold air. It’s the fear.
But even I know that there’s arousal thrumming beneath all of it.
Somehow, my fucked-up mind wants this. I want him to take me, to own me. No matter how hard I fight. I’ve known this since the minute I chose to step out of the cabin.
Who am I fucking kidding? I’ve wanted him since the first time I really saw him, when he opened the trunk.
Wolf closes the blade and slips it back in his pocket. His hands roughly knead my breasts, and his thumbs flick over my nipples. They harden even more under his fingers, and he gives them a firm pinch. He moves down toward my feet as he grabs the waistband of my leggings and pulls, taking my underwear with them. He leaves them around my ankles while he stands and shrugs his pants off.
