Rules of Survival(6)

This was so much more than a personal vendetta. How had I not seen it? The relentless chase. The bitterness in his voice. How he’d known about the “out.” The way he’d hidden his truck… “You knew my Mom!”

He grabbed me under the arms and hefted upward. “No one knew your mom, kid. She was a fake, a liar, and a goddamned thief.”

Anger, red hot and all-consuming, overshadowed my fear and I spat in his face. I would have hit him had my hands not been bound. And frozen. “You don’t know anything about her.”

He swiped a meaty hand across his cheek, expression borderline furious. “I know a lot more than you do. She—”

A white sedan crested the top of the hill. I didn’t wait. I sprinted for the road, hopping up and down from foot to foot since I couldn’t wave my arms. I didn’t count on the driver, obliviously talking on his cell, not seeing me.

Twelve feet. Ten feet. Six feet.

The car came closer and closer without slowing down. By the time I decided to get out of the way, it was already too late. I made a move to step out of the road, but slipped on a patch of ice and went down hard. Instead of trying to scramble out of the car’s path, I did the one thing Mom would have been furious about—I closed my eyes and braced for impact.

And impact came—but not in the form of the car. The horn blared as the world shifted up and sideways. Something hit me from the right and dragged my body along the icy ground. Movement stopped with a painful jar, my teeth gnashing down against my tongue. A foul, coppery taste filled my mouth as I struggled to move air in and out of my lungs again.

“Are you insane?”

Shaun.

I squirmed a little to the left. The ice beneath me was melting and had soaked through my jeans. Now not only were my hands frozen, but my ass as well. “I—”

The car rolled to a stop, the driver sticking his head out the window. “Everything okay?”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Patrick flash a small object—probably a fake badge—and talk softly for a moment before the car drove off, leaving me to my fate. People were idiots. They’d believe anything. Never mind that I’d exploited that fact countless times, but still.

Shaun climbed to his feet and bent down to help me up. Brushing the hair from my face, he leaned close and asked, “Are you okay?”

The guy had really amazing eyes. Up close I could see swirls of green mingling with strands of brown and gold. Full of concern. It was sweet—and stupid. I brought my head forward and slammed it into his. I knew it was more from surprise than the force behind it, but he stumbled back and let go of my shoulders.

Go-go-go, Mom’s voice screamed inside my head. It propelled me forward, adrenaline coursing like rocket fuel through my veins. I spun and darted in the opposite direction as Shaun let out a string of very inventive and colorful curses.

Behind me, Patrick yelled, and heavy footsteps pounded the slick blacktop. Faster. Closer. He was getting closer. I pushed my legs to pump harder, but I’d never been a runner. I was more of the “outsmart trouble” than “flee it” type. Brains, Mom said. Brains will get you out of more jams than brawn. Always have a plan.

But I didn’t. Not really. Other than run away, my plan at that moment was sadly limited.

Patrick hit me hard, knocking us both to the road. We rolled together for a few feet before I managed to wriggle from his grasp and start crawling away. It was stupid. There was no hope of putting enough distance between us. Not with cuffs on. But I had no intention of making this easy for him. Large hands clawed the ground for my leg as I tried to shimmy out of reach. I failed, too slow, and he dragged me closer through the slush and salt.

“You’re making this…harder…than it needs…to be,” he puffed as I thrashed.

It was good to know I’d done one thing right today, because going back to the cabin? Not my brightest moment. I should have waited. Done more scouting. Checked out the area more thoroughly.

Once I was within grabbing distance, Patrick latched on tight and stumbled upward, dragging me along. He’d learned from Shaun’s mistake. Wrapping both arms under mine, he secured my head by locking his hands behind it and started toward the car.

I kicked and flailed every step of the way, effectively slowing him down—but not stopping him. Patrick was a big guy. One small-framed girl wasn’t too much to handle. No matter how determined.

When we reached the car I gave one final, valiant effort to escape by bracing both feet against the door and shoving out with as much force as I could muster. I succeeded in sending him off-balance, his arms slipping from under mine as he tried to stay upright, but Shaun was right there to take his place.

Fine. Time to get drastic. I sucked in a deep breath and let out a toe-curling scream in his ear. It ripped from my throat, scratching its way free like a handful of glass, and echoed through the trees, the sound carrying for what I hoped was miles. Sure, the guys at the cabin might hear it, but right now, Shaun and Patrick were the priority. Another rule: prioritize according to peril.

Shaun let go and covered his ears, stumbling away.

Patrick yelled and Shaun cursed. It all happened so fast. One of them rammed me from behind and I shot forward, forehead kissing the corner of the open passenger’s side door.

Everything went dark.





Chapter Three


“You okay?” someone asked. It took me a moment to realize it was Patrick’s voice. There was an odd sort of hum in the background and a measured kind of thumping. Occasionally there was a gust of hot air. I could feel it on my cheek, and I wanted to open my eyes to see what it was, but couldn’t. They were just too damn heavy.