There Is No Devil (Sinners Duet, #2)(71)

We agreed that he’d be here.

We agreed that he’d give me the sign that it was safe to run through.

Cole would slip into the wall up ahead. I’d wait for Shaw, to make sure he followed. The moment I saw him, I’d sprint down the aisle. As Shaw chased after me, Cole would jump out and bury his knife in Shaw’s neck.

That was the plan.

Shaw will be here any second.

What do I do? What do I DO?

Shaw’s heavy footsteps pound toward me.

Without waiting for him to reach the middle, I sprint down one of the spokes. This isn’t the way I was supposed to go, but it doesn’t fucking matter. If Cole isn’t here, I only have two options: run all the way out and flee from the maze, or try to hide in the walls.

Shaw is chasing after me way too fucking fast. He’s probably visited the maze himself, late at night while it was being built. He knows the way through. He’s faster than me. If I run, he’ll catch me.

If I hide, it might give Cole enough time to find us both.

Where is he?

I thought he’d be here. I was so sure of it. Not for a second did I believe he’d let me down.

He won’t let me down.

He’ll be here.

I just have to stay alive a little longer.

I dart into a tiny alcove hidden in the glossy black wall. There’s a dozen of these niches scattered through the maze. I try to make myself as small as a mouse, stifling my panting breath, covering my mouth with both hands while gasps leak out in a frosty mist, harsh and ragged.

I can hear Shaw’s breath, even heavier. He’s puffing like a buffalo, winded from chasing after me.

I hate that sound. I really fucking hate it.

His thudding steps pause as he reaches the center of the maze. I can hear him turning this way and that, pausing as he stares down each spoke, searching for me.

His voice cuts through the still night:

“I know you’re in here.”

I press both palms over my mouth.

His tone is low and flat, devoid of emotion. Just like the night we met.

I know you’re awake.

He cut me open. Left me to bleed out on the ground.

We’ll see who bleeds tonight.

Slipping my hand into the pocket of my coat, I find Cole’s knife and close my fingers around the handle.

Cole said to stick to the plan no matter what.

Well, the plan is fucked.

I’m the one hiding in the walls. I’m the one with the knife.

Slowly, carefully, I flick it open.

The blade snaps into place with a minute click.

I can feel Shaw stiffening, his head jerking up, his ears straining to find the direction of the sound.

“There’s no point hiding, Mara. Come on out and we’ll talk. Face to face. Woman to man …”

He gives a nasty chuckle.

He’s coming closer, his heavy steps slow and measured. He knows I’m hiding close by.

“Are you afraid I’m going to hurt you? Don’t worry … I just want a little taste …”

I think he turned down the path next to mine. I hear his voice moving off at an angle. But just as quickly, he turns and strides back again.

“You might even like it. Some girls do … at least to start … Your roommate Erin certainly enjoyed herself …”

He’s walking down my aisle now, I’m sure of it. Drawing closer and closer …

“The first time we fucked she was bouncing and squealing so loud it echoed up the staircase … Half the party must have heard her. The second time … well, the second time I wasn’t as nice …”

He’s walking right past me. The opening in the wall sits at an angle. I’ve wedged myself into the furthest corner of the alcove, out of view.

I see a slice of Shaw’s broad back as he passes by. I see the carefully combed waves of his sandy-colored hair, and the high collar of his tuxedo jacket. In between, the nape of his neck … thick and muscular, but unprotected …

I clench tight to the knife, slipping out of my hiding place. Stepping behind him, smooth and silent as his own shadow …

“I bit her nipple off and swallowed it whole,” Shaw chuckles.

Gripping the handle of the knife overhand, I stab the blade toward the base of his neck, planning to bury it in his spine.

Maybe it’s the motion that gives me away, or some whispering sound.

Shaw whirls around. The knife embeds in the back of his shoulder, wrenching it out of my hand. Shaw’s bear-like arm swings around, clouting me in the side of the head, sending me flying into the glass wall opposite us.

“You fuckin’ BITCH!” he howls, clamping his hand over his shoulder. He’s trying to reach behind him, trying to grip the knife. His arms are too thick—his fingertips graze the handle, but he can’t pull it out.

He rounds on me, face flushed with fury. Genuinely outraged that I dared to fight back.

I’m already leaping to my feet again, sprinting away from him, back into the center of the maze.

My feet slip on the freshly-fallen snow, and I almost eat shit rounding the corner. I can hear Shaw barreling after me, grunting through his teeth, utterly enraged.

I’m running in a mad panic, all memory of the labyrinth wiped from my mind. I’m back in the center, but I don’t remember where I came in, so don’t know the way out.