~ 7 ~
PEYTON
I didn’t think. I just ran.
The asshole still holding the towel cursed violently, in the few seconds he had before the pain reached his brain. I was ten steps away by the time I heard him drop, gasping and wheezing, to his knees.
“Get her…”
This is becoming a habit, I realized. Donovan isn’t going to just let me go. I’ll need to keep running, keep hiding, until he gets bored of chasing me or picks up on the fact that I’m never, ever going to be his, ever again.
Not that I ever really was, mind you.
“PEYTON!”
The dorky one is cuter than I remembered him. I’d caught him watching me on more occasions than I could count, but the sheepish smile on that stubbled chin spoke more of innocence than danger. Back in the manor, it was nice to have innocence around me every once in a while. It made up for all the scumbags Donovan usually employed.
“Wait! Don’t run!”
I’d played backgammon with him once, if I remembered correctly. It was late at night, I was bored and lonely, and Donovan had been away for days. He had deliciously broad shoulders for a computer nerd. They stretched the fabric of his tight black shirt, and his pleasantly bulging arms told me he was no stranger to the gym.
And he was funny, too. Cute and charming, but in an endearingly nervous way. Inviting him into the study had really taken him aback, and getting him to share a bottle of wine with me had been a near impossible task. He had though, and I knew he did it purely for my benefit. Shit, it was one of the few times I’d seen him put his keyboard down.
“PLEASE!”
He sounded frantic now, as my legs carried me full-tilt into the woods. The forest was thicker than it looked from afar, and the ground much more uneven. Almost immediately, branches started tearing at my exposed skin. Twigs snapped and scratched at my arms and face, as my mind tried telling my tender feet to ignore the pain rushing up from below.
This is stupid.
Yeah, maybe. But right now, running was all I had. If I reached the road, maybe I could flag someone down. A naked woman being chased from the woods always secured an instant ride, and a quick getaway. According to the movies, anyway.
I just wish they’d gotten to the cabinbeforeI’d jumped into the lake.
My adrenaline-soaked mind began calculating all the variables required for success; how close they were behind me, whether or not I could make the road, the chances of a passingcar. It weighed them against the rash of injuries I was currently sustaining, as jutting sticks and branches savaged my face, my legs, my poor, torn-up feet. It seemed that everyone was angry at me today, including the forest.
That’s when someone launched themselves from the trees, and a pair of iron-like arms went around me. My feet dropped away as I lost my footing, pinwheeling me head-first into the thick trunk of a towering pine.
Fuck…
Then silver stars exploded in my head, like tiny fireworks.
