Fuck.
Stumbling down the half-demolished stairs, my eyes catch on the glint of something, half-buried against the perimeter of the house. With every step I take, my body seems to remember how to function. By the time my fingers wrap around the frozen steel, I feel almost human again.
Yanking my shotgun free, I dust the ice clinging to the stock and barrel. Breaking it, my chest heaves with relief—two shells. Two opportunities to take this fucker down and get Ava back into the safety of my arms.
The scramble of hurried footsteps has disappeared amongst the sounds of the forest and the snowstorm barreling down.
I drag a breath into my lungs, tasting blood on my tongue. My hands tremble as I close the gun, forcing myself to move through the clearing. My feet slip on the incline out of the small valley.
I can’t stop shaking. But one thought cuts through all the pain and anxiety.
He took her, and because of that, I won’t stop until he’s dead.
The silence of the woods left in their wake is unbearable. Yet, it’s not silent at all. Echoes of her screams reverberate through my skull, louder than the roar of my pulse.
I shove past the pain lancing through my ribs and drag myself to the top of the ridge. My knees threaten to give out,but I lock them into place. My breath tears ragged through my throat, every inhale biting from the cold. Sweat beads on my temple from the exertion, stinging a cut there.
Looking for his trail, I catch the outline of his bootprint, filling quickly from the falling snow. I can only pray the deeper we go, the slower they’ll disappear with the coverage up above. I stagger toward the next tree, using every one as a shoulder to lean on. A place to grab a quick rest before I heave my aching bones into motion.
Night’s taken over, black and endless, the forest nothing more than a mass of tangled darkness. The snow crunches with every step, signaling my stilted approach, if he’s even bothering to care.
“Ava.” Her name slips out in a whisper.
The bitter cold worms through my layers, but I don’t stop. My boots catch on hidden roots and pointed stones. My vision swims every so often, a reminder of the head wound I’m ignoring and the concussion I likely have. I force my legs to move faster, closing the distance. One step, then another, until I’m chasing the sound of branches snapping ahead. A faint cadence of something heavy pounding into the earth.
The forest swallows me whole. Trees crowd in closer, their black spines rising higher than the sky, blotting out even the faint smear of moonlight.
Somewhere ahead, her scream cuts through the night. My head whips to the left, heart thundering in my chest, and pumping much-needed blood through my limbs.
I lurch forward, crashing through the brush, ignoring the branches whipping my face. My coordination lacks its usual spryness, but I run anyway. The forest thickens, pressing in like it’s working against me. Like it wants him to win.
Her screams grow louder. Desperation leaks through every call to be let go, every plea of my name off her lips.
What if he somehow has a way out of here? What if I don’t get to her in time?
The possibilities throw gasoline onto my anxiety, ratcheting the fear gripping my spine. My feet pound against the snow now, finding a miraculous grip that keeps me upright.
My chest aches like it’s on fire from trying to suck in enough oxygen. Every gulp of icy air is a knife to the lungs, but Ava’s voice drives me forward.
“Ava!” I shout again, frantic for her to hear me. To know I’m on his heels.
Ahead, I glimpse movement through the trees. A sliver of red that doesn’t belong. My direction changes again, closing the distance. We have to be getting closer to the cabin, back to familiarity.
Thick limbs close in around me, forcing my pace down to a hustling walk. I crash through, unconcerned if he can hear me, until they finally break, spitting me out at the tree line around the cabin.
An eerie stillness covers the property coated in fresh-fallen snow. Tracks lead me straight to the cabin steps. A silhouette moves beyond the curtains.
Bile stings my raw throat.
She wasn’t wrong. He was watching. It’s so easy from out here with the night as a cloak and the lights burning bright from inside.
His frame is a perfect outline, slightly misshapen from Ava lumped over his shoulder. But then they’re gone.
I creep closer, not daring to take the old wooden steps that lead to the front door. Instead, I pace around back, gun at theready. The bathroom is dark, and the small window is too high off the ground to crawl through. The first bedroom, Ava’s parents’ room, is locked tight, but the second is ajar. The crack’s barely noticeable.
It’s all I need.
NINETEEN
