Instead, he stood and stepped aside. “Go.”
Kate blinked. “What?”
“I’m giving you a head start. You’ll run. I’ll wait.”
Kate’s pulse roared in her ears. “You’re letting me go?”
The smile in his voice turned her stomach. “I’m letting you try to go.”
He led her up the stairs.
Swung open the door.
Heat hit her like a wall.
Not warmth—weight. Dry and crushing, the kind that stole breath and made her skin prickle instantly. Beyond the threshold stretched a rugged sprawl of sun-bleached hills and rock—dusty earth, pale stone, scrubby brush clinging to life where it could. The sky was a hard, unbroken blue.
No trees.
No buildings.
No road she could see.
The land rolled unevenly away from the house, folding into gullies and rocky outcroppings that looked close enough to reach—until she really looked.
There was no shade.
No place to hide.
Only illusion.
Kate staggered forward, the ground hot beneath her shoes, sweat already sliding down her spine. Her legs trembled—not just from weakness, but from the realization settling deep in her chest.
This wasn’t an escape.
It was exposure.
“Run. And when you hear me behind you . . .” He paused. “Don’t stop.”
Fear took over.
Kate ran.
Loose gravel skidded beneath her feet as she bolted downslope, lungs burning almost immediately. The air scorched with every breath. She veered toward a cluster of rocks.
Kate pushed harder, legs screaming, heart threatening to tear itself apart as the vast, open desert swallowed her whole. Sweat stung her eyes. Her throat burned. Still she ran—because stopping meant something far worse.
And somewhere behind her, she knew he was smiling.
Because in a place like this?
The desert always won.
And he had all the time in the world.
CHAPTER
FIFTY-TWO
