But tonight, something had shifted.
Duke was no longer convinced they were chasing someone who wanted to stay hidden.
Some predators liked to be close enough to watch the fear take root.
Duke turned off the light and sat in the dark longer than necessary, the napkin folded carefully in his hand.
Whatever sick game this was . . . it wasn’t over.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
The cabin door creaked open.
Light exploded into the room.
Gina squeezed her eyes shut too late, white pain slicing through her skull as the beam cut straight into her face. Even with her eyes closed, she saw it—bright flares swimming behind her lids, burning away the darkness she’d almost started to prefer.
“Good,” her captor said. “You’re awake.”
Her stomach clenched.
She lay where he’d left her on the rough wooden floor, wrists bound again behind her back, ankles tied just tightly enough to ache.
Every inch of her body hurt. The cold had settled deep into her bones, a relentless, gnawing chill that no amount of shivering could help.
She remembered yesterday—at least, she thought it was yesterday—when the man had “let her go.”
She remembered running.
Running and running and running until her lungs felt like they were shredding from the inside out. Three hours. Maybe more. She had no way to know for sure.
The sun had been low at first, slicing through the trees in blinding shafts of light.
She’d torn through the forest, bare feet slapping over snow, over icy stones and roots. Her skin had split open with every misstep. She’d ducked behind trees, crouched behind boulders slick with moss, pressed her body flat against the earth and tried to breathe without making a sound.
It hadn’t mattered.
Every time she dared to believe she’d lost him, she’d heard it—his footsteps, steady and unhurried. Sometimes his voice as it drifted through the trees like a taunt.
“Careful, Gina. You’re leaving tracks.”
She’d looked back and caught a glimpse of him, wondering if she’d finally see his face.
He’d been wearing a mask.
Her hands and arms throbbed now, purple bruises blooming beneath the grime. One ankle had begun to swell, stiff and hot beneath the skin, pain flaring whenever she shifted even slightly. She thought she might have twisted it when she’d slipped on loose gravel near a ravine.
She hadn’t even screamed when he’d caught her.
She’d been too tired.
He’d come up behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist as if they were dancing. She’d clawed and kicked weakly, nails scraping uselessly against his jacket.
“There you are.” He didn’t bother to hide the delight in his voice. “I was afraid you’d disappoint me.”
He’d carried her a few steps and then dragged her by one arm the rest of the way back to the cabin.
