I’m not sure who is pulling who as my lungs seize and my legs cramp. I can’t breathe, I can’t see anything except the sun-dappled forest floor in front of me. The heavy thunder of my pulse obliterates the sound of our footsteps and the charred hair smell is everywhere.
A reminder of how close I came to losing my face instead of a lock.
We run until my legs give out. I’m the one who pulls us to a stop like an anchor.
Tears burn at the corners of my eyes and I double over, in the front row of the struggle bus.
I can’t keep going.
I must have said it out loud because Grayson stalls, our hands still linked. He cranes his head to the side but the stillness around us spreads and holds.
“I think we’re fine to stop. Are you okay?” He glances at my legs. “What happened?”
No. I’m definitely not okay. My body is giving out on me and no granola bar is going to help. I straighten but the movement doesn’t make it easier to breathe. And when I topple to the side, my vision banks, and Grayson catches me.
“Take a breath. Slow your heartbeat.”
My gaze darts over his shoulder. “What if…he comes back?”
“I think we’re far enough away from him not to follow us. We’re faster than he is,” Grayson assures me.
I’ve got serious doubts but it’s impossible to keep moving. No more marathons are in my future.
I gulp, my mouth filled with saliva and a coldness spreading through my stomach. Grayson, on the other hand, is flushed, the apples of his cheeks bright and his eyes feverish.
His thumb brushes the top of my knuckle. This time, I don’t jump. I hold steady through the tremble passing between the two of us.
He grabs the shorn piece of hair near my jaw with his free hand. “He almost got you.”
“Good thing he didn’t. Terrible shot.” My words tumble over each other.
But I’m not okay and Grayson doesn’t ask again.
Not when he releases my hand to cup my face to examine me for himself. He searches my face for any hint of pain or lies. My tongue ties itself in knots the longer he touches me because his hands burn through my skin.
“I don’t know what I would have done if he shot you,” he admits in an undertone.
I should say something funny to ease the tension. I should. Except my mind blanks and I swipe my tongue across my lower lip, his attention dipping to capture the movement and my stomach goes tight. There’s no witty comeback. There’s only the quiet forest, sunlight, and Grayson with his hot skin and topaz eyes.
I suck in a breath when the inches separating us get smaller and thicker. “Gray?—”
“Mandi? It’s Mandi! Thank god we found you. Over here!”
The male voice sounds from the left accompanied by the crunch of boots on leaves so loud it’s another form of gunfire.
Grayson and I jump apart at the interruption. Correction, I jump. He wobbles before locking his knees as the voices get louder and the noise obnoxious.
A young man with wheat colored hair and broad shoulders muscles his way through the trees, a sunny smile splitting his features.
Recognition clicks into place. “Jrue! What are you doing here?”
I’m whisked off my feet the second he reaches me.
Arms band around my waist and my feet leave the ground, Jrue spinning me in a dizzying circle before setting me down.
Four men follow him, all of them pack. Ironwood.
“I’ve been looking for you! Well, we’ve been looking, following your scent for days. Your father is terrified.”