Page 48

He chuckles. “Wait. Of course you don’t. You don’t remember anything.”

“I remember enough,” I spit back. “I remember what you did to me in that shed.” The problem is, not all of it. That’s where he broke me.

“No, wildling. You don’t know anything about yourself, and that’s the problem. You’re going to die, Layla. There’s no getting out of this.”

I keep my eyes locked on his. From here, they are as black as night, not the golden eyes I see in my dreams. This isn’t Nick talking. It’s his anger.

“You lured my parents out,” I say, gripping both the knife and the phone. “You wanted me alone. Well, here I am. All yours.”

He angles his head. “You’ve never stopped being mine.”

“Fuck this,” I mutter and hang up, tearing my gaze from him. When I glance up, the Archer is gone. No sign of him anywhere. Not even a footprint. I drop the knife on the floor and scramble for the phone number I have for Sarah Crawley.

I’m not sure if this is still her number, but it’s the only one I have. Nick gets unhinged when he’s like this. When he transforms into the Archer, he’s deadly. He will eventually kill me; it’s a matter of time. I’m starting to believe he already has. I don’t remember how I got out of that shed.

The phone rings, which is a good sign, and eventually a rough female voice answers. “Who’s this?”

I suck in a breath and hold it, immediately regretting my decision to call her. My heart is racing so fast, I end up letting out a small gasp.

“Layla? Is that you?” Her voice softens, and all I can manage is a tiny wisp of breath.

“Are you in danger?” she asks.

“Yes,” I squeak, standing alone in my kitchen. “I think so.”

I bite my lip, holding the ribbon…the bite marks, the pet name, and all the texts, everything that is distinctively Nick and the essence of the dangerous masked man that lives within him. Nick was dangerous from the moment I met him. He was dangerous even when I fell in love with him. But especially now that I have abandoned him.

From the moment I met him…A swirl of memories overwhelms me…happy memories. Of the woods, sunshine, and fire. A younger version of me…much younger.

“Layla, where are you? I’m coming to you.”

“No.” My voice catches. “Don’t come.”

“Where are you?”

I gaze outside at the whiteout obliterating my view of the lake and mountains. “I’m at home…in Stormwood.”

“You need to leave immediately. Go to Vancouver, check into a hotel, and don’t tell anyone where you are. Not even Beth. Layla, you’re in serious danger here.”

My mind swirls into the past. I can barely hear her as Nick’s face comes into my rearview. How many nights did I spend with him? Memories blur into a lifetime. “I can’t leave,” I tell her.

“Why?” She sounds frantic now.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “He’s everywhere I go. I will never get away from him. Not until he gets what he wants.”

“And what is that? What does he want, Layla?” Sarah asks.

I choke in a breath, and it catches in my throat. “Revenge.” The knife glitters on the floor, so I retrieve it. “I have to go,” I say. “Don’t call me again.”

A pause. “You called me, Layla.”

I blink a couple times and run my thumb over the tip. Blood is a nice reminder I am, indeed, still breathing. I’m not hallucinating this, nor did I die in that shed. “Sarah?”

“What is it?”

“How easy is it to fake a death record?” From what I remember about him, Nick’s basically good at everything. He’s smart enough to live entirely off the grid. His own grandfather thought he was dead. He’s precise enough to get away with it.

“Nearly impossible…why? Layla, talk to me.”