And of course he fucking knows. Probably watched me climb out the window on a hundred different camera angles while laughing at my audacity.
I grab my pink pill case, shake out a couple of pills, and swallow them dry.
ELLIE
Ice cream's good. Want me to bring you some?
The three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again. He's choosing his words carefully, which is somehow worse than immediate rage.
KADE
No. But you're going to pay for this later.
Maybe he expects that to scare me. To make me throw the ice cream away and sprint back to the house, lock myself in my pink cage, and beg for his forgiveness.
Instead, it turns me on, and I take another deliberate lick of rose cardamom bullshit just in case he's watching me here, too.
ELLIE
Looking forward to it.
I'm playing with fire. I've always been drawn to it.
Maybe not as much as Kade, but still.
The ice cream melts faster than I can eat it, dripping pink down my fingers like blood. I'm contemplating whether to get napkins when a black car pulls up.
Sleek. Expensive. Tinted windows that turn it into a moving shadow. It stops directly in front of my bench, engine still running, and every instinct I've honed over four years of surviving Todd screamsrun.
But my legs won't move. I'm frozen, ice cream cone melting in my hand, watching the back door open like I'm witnessing my own execution.
Todd doesn't step out.
It's Jinx.
He's smirking, of course, like he knew this was exactly how today would turn out. When Cyrus follows, climbing out of the driver's seat, his jaw is set and he looksconsiderablyless amused.
They walk toward me and I freeze for a second, calculating whether to run or face my punishment like a woman.
Evidently, I'm a rabbit, because the instinct to turn and bolt for the woods takes precedence and I catch the barest glimpse of surprise on Jinx's face before I disappear into the treeline.
Fuck, I amsofucked.
I run harder.
My sneakers pound against the path leading into the woods, branches whipping at my face and arms. Behind me, I hear Jinx's delighted unhinged laugh and Cyrus cursing as he presumably abandons whatever measured approach he was planning.
This is reckless. So fucking reckless. They're faster than me, stronger, and they know these woods better than I do sincethey've had four years to explore while I was playing dress-up in a mansion.
I'm going to get caught in approximately thirty seconds, and then what? They drag me back to the house by my hair? Lock me in that room for real?
Another thought that should scare me shitless.
Instead, adrenaline floods my system like the world's best drug, and I push harder. Faster. The trees blur past, and for the first time in four years I feelalive. Not performing. Not surviving.
Actually fuckingalive.
This is what it felt like on the back of Tank's bike. Wind raking through my hair, heart stuttering, the rush of freedom and danger pushing me higher. The world narrowing down to just the rumble of the engine and the exhilarating terror of going way too fucking fast.
