The tingle and horrible promise of hope evaporated. Cruel. Vicious. Evil.
I’m to be hunted.
There wouldn’t be freedom. There would only be blood. Just like he said in the dining room.
Energy left my limbs. Who was I kidding? I hadn’t eaten since I was stolen. I’d barely had a decent sleep. I existed like a junkie on adrenaline and fear. It was no combination for a long distance run through thickets and bush.
Jethro pulled away, dropping his hands. He smiled. “Your headstart begins now, Ms. Weaver. I’d leave if I were you.”
Now?
I backpeddled, heart bursting with terror. “How—how long do I have?”
Jethro carefully raised his cuff, looking sedately at the diamond and black watch on his wrist. “I’m a seasoned hunter. I have no doubt I’ll find you. And when I do...what those men did to you will be nothing.” Cocking his head, he said, “I think forty-five minutes is rather sporting, don’t you?”
My mind was no longer there. It was leaping and flying over leaves and dodging ancient trunks.
Run. Go. Run.
“Make it and you’re no longer mine....”
Freedom taunted me, making me believe I had a chance. A slim, barely non-existent chance—but still a chance. The muscles in my legs reacted, already poised to take off. I had to trust my body. It knew how to flee.
I could make it. If I did, I would no longer be his pet to torture. But if I didn’t....
Don’t ask. Don’t ask.
“And if I don’t?”
Jethro lowered his head, glaring at me beneath his brow. His eyes were tight and dark, glinting with excitement at the upcoming hunt. “Don’t and the debt I’ll make you repay will make you wish youhadmade it to the boundary.” He stepped from the sun’s glare, his teeth sparkling like diamonds. “Now...run.”
...
...
I ran.
