My body moved before my brain caught up. I bolted—didn’t matter which direction, didn’t matter that I had nowhere to go. Pure animal instinct, the prey’s only response to a predator.
I made it three steps.
Bishop’s arm caught me around the waist, lifting me off my feet like I weighed nothing. I thrashed, drove my elbow back into his ribs. He didn’t even grunt. Just held me until I exhausted myself, my breath coming in ragged gasps, fingernails bloody from scraping against his forearm.
This couldn’t be happening. Not again. I’d survived once—barely, impossibly—and now Oliver wanted to do it all over again.
He watched the whole thing with the patience of a man observing wildlife. When I finally went still, chest heaving, he smiled.
“I was hoping you’d do that.” He stepped closer. “The fear is so much more satisfying when you fight it first. And look at poor Bishop. You tore up his arm just like you broke his nose. Good thing I said he could have you to dispose of when I was finished. I’m sure he’ll be creative. The quiet ones always are.”
Bishop set me down but kept one hand clamped on my shoulder. My legs barely held me. I could feel myself shaking—not just my hands this time, but everywhere. Deep tremors I couldn’t control.
“The rules will be similar to last time,” Oliver continued, as casual as if nothing had happened. “You still get a head start. Thirty minutes this time since it’s only me pursuing. I even have another dress for you.”
He smiled. “Oh. And the hunt won’t be outside.” He turned, gesturing to the mine entrance. “Abandoned mine. Lots of tunnels. Should be fun, right?”
The darkness gaped at me. Infinite. Hungry.
“I know. Looks a little scary. But don’t worry.” His voice dripped with false concern. “I’ll give you a flashlight.”
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Every fear I’d spent years trying to manage, every nightmare about crushing walls and noescape, every therapy session and breathing exercise and hard-won progress—it all crumbled in the face of that black opening.
My breathing was already harsh, but I couldn’t get it under control.
“Once I had that box, I knew not to have my people do much more searching about Coop. That would’ve let the powers that be know I was onto him. But you, on the other hand, were wide open.”
He watched my face with obvious pleasure. “A little bit of hacking and we had it. Your phobia was in your medical records. Your therapy notes. Everything leaves a digital trail if you know where to look.”
He stepped closer, close enough that I could smell his cologne—something expensive, completely wrong for this place.
“Four hours trapped in a crushed car. That must have been terrible.” His voice dropped, intimate and obscene. “The metal pressing in. The darkness. Your own screams echoing back at you. Not knowing if anyone would ever find you.”
My hands had started shaking. I couldn’t stop them.
“I considered recreating that experience more directly,” he continued, almost thoughtful. “Something with a confined space, slowly crushing you… But where’s the sport in that? At least this way, you’ll have room to run. And I do so enjoy the chase.”
He nodded to Bishop, who produced a garment from somewhere behind him. Burgundy silk, just like before. The fabric caught the late-afternoon light, gleaming like fresh blood as it landed at my feet.
“And I’m letting you keep your sneakers, even though that was cheating last time. But I’m a gentleman.”
I would’ve scoffed if I weren’t so desperately trying to get enough oxygen into my system.
“Your thirty minutes starts now.” Oliver checked his watch. “But you can’t leave until you’ve changed.”
I looked at the dress. At Oliver watching with those empty eyes. At Bishop standing motionless, face revealing nothing.
He wanted me to strip. Right here, in front of them. Another humiliation. Another reminder that I had no control, no power, no dignity he hadn’t decided to let me keep.
“No.”
He shrugged. “Your choice, but every second you waste out here is a second you don’t have in there.”
He wasn’t bluffing. I pulled off my jacket. Let it fall. My shirt followed, then my jeans, the cold air raising goose bumps across my skin. I didn’t let myself hesitate. Didn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me falter.
The silk slid over my body like cold water. Too long without heels, dragging in the dirt. I didn’t care.
“The flashlight,” I said.
