“How did you hide that you were your dad’s daughter?” I’m fast, but M is faster. I hide behind a tree, and I try not to breathe. Not because he will hear me—the fucker will probably see the cold breath coming out of my mouth. Tree branches are snapping, and I feel his presence.
Very.
Fucking.
Close.
I can’t show who I really am or why I might be in danger. It could blow up my entire life that I have carefully orchestrated.
Carefully, I look behind the tree and see that he is not there. I also don’t hear him, so it might be safe to move.
“I need an answer, little hummingbird,” M says with that stupid fucking grin. Even when he wants to make me bleed and hurt, my body craves his touch. He is standing very close to me and is not holding his rifle.
He extends his arm toward me, and on instinct, I do something I haven’t done in a while—I kick him hard in the shins, and he drops to the floor. Not because I am that strong, but because I surprised him. Without waiting for a response, I run behind him, and before I ascend even more into the dark forest, I yank on the strap of the rifle. He falls onto his back.
“That move makes me want to eat your fucking pussy and make it bleed for me.”
Fuck.
My lungs are burning, each breath fogging in the cold night air as I sprint deeper, deeper, and deeper into the place that holds memories. The ground beneath me is slick with old moss and wet leaves.
But I don’t slow down.
My erratic heartbeat feels like it’s bruising all the bones inside of me.
A fucking bush, yes. I lay down on the ground with my hands on my head.
“I stole the identity from a woman my father took out. My name really is Lana, though!” I answer to M’s earlier question.
“Nice work, little hummingbird. Where the fuck are you?” His voice sounds a little bit far away, so I know I have a little bit of wiggle room in this room of madness.
“Come on, M, ask me another question!” I yell out. His devious laughter makes the leaves in the forest rattle and the wet ground shake.
“Why did you hide your real identity?” Steps. Steps. Steps. I look ahead of me, and I can see him with his back turned to me. I slowly stand up and take a few tentative steps backward until I’m sure that he can’t hear me run away.
The forest sounds alive—a low groan of the trees shifting in the wind and the distant rustle of him moving just out of sight. Once I know that I can answer him, I hide behind a well my father had installed.
We are near the house of horrors.
“Because I wanted to rebuild my life without any influence from my father!” In a way, it’s true. I wanted to play the game on my own rules.
“One more question, little hummingbird.” He is close. How the fuck is he moving so fast without making any sound? My father underestimated him.
“Ask away, you crazy bastard,” I yell at him. I realize my significant error because I shouldn’t have called out to him like that. Now he knows where to find—
“Where is Daddy dearest now?” He is standing a few feet to my right. My eyes pop open, and I don’t dare to move my head. Neither is he taking any step toward me.
“He is not in prison.” The truth is coming out.
“I know, Lana. Where is he?”
“I really don’t know.” I hope he knows that I’m not lying. I really don’t know where he is. The wind rustles through the treetops, and then I feel it. Cold fingers are brushing through my hair. I hate how much I desire his touch.
“Don’t lie to me.” M has dropped the facade of being nice; the cold killer he is, is here.
“I am not lying. Please, M.” My voice is pleading for something. And I don’t want to admit to myself, let alone him, for what.
M stands behind me and moves my hair from my back to my front. He wets his lips and starts peppering my neck with soft kisses.
