One problem, though. Where the hell will I go on the lake? Actually, two problems. I don’t even know how to drive one, and that’s only if the engine works.
But if I choose the forest…
I shudder at the thought of what could be lurking in the darkness.
Steps come up behind me and I yelp, then run to the deck. Screw it. How hard can it be to drive a boat?
I’m frantic, my movements unsteady as I fumble with the rope of the newest-looking boat.
My feet shake and I know I’m losing time with each passing second I’m not undoing the knots.
Come on, come on.
Sweat trickles down my temple and glues my hoodie to my back. One of my nails breaks on the rough rope, but instead of focusing on that, I cast a fleeting glance behind me and freeze.
I’m pretty sure I heard him on my heels just now, exerting a minimal amount of effort while I was giving it my all.
So how come there’s no one there?
Another flock of ravens or crows or whatever in the Batman fly into the night and I jerk, then breathe in a choppy rhythm.
My gaze continues studying my surroundings as I keep trying to undo the knots.
A dark shadow flashes beside me and I flinch and start to whirl around, but I don’t get the chance to.
My foot slips and I tumble off the edge of the deck.
Or I think I do.
A strong hand grips me by the wrist and pulls me back, then releases me as fast as it caught me.
I fall on my stomach on the coarse wood and a hard body flattens mine to the surface.
Overpowering, overwhelming, and knocks the breath out of me.
He crushes me with his weight, crowding my space, until only my gasps echo in the gloomy air surrounding us.
The rush of energy from earlier surges through my bones and I flail my legs, trying to kick him, to reach any part of him, but I might as well be hitting a wall.
He grabs my wrists and slams them behind my back as he eases off me. Or more like, his knees fall on either side of me and he straddles my arse.
“Caught you.” His voice, gruff and gravelly, echoes with frightening finality.
I try to wiggle, to set myself free, but it’s impossible. He’s gripping me with utter ease while I’m exerting, panting, and completely at my wit's end.
He pins my wrists down with an elbow and grabs the waist of my jeans, and then a long slicing sound fills my ears before cold air forms goosebumps on my skin.
The knife.
He cut my jeans and underwear with his knife.
A foreign sensation flares through me.
The thought that the sharp blade could nip at my skin keeps me still as he slashes my hoodie and my bra from behind like he’s cutting through butter.
The cold knife touches my back and I shudder. With my clothes falling off me in shreds, I’m fully exposed to him, his callous touch, and his merciless knife.
If I don’t do something, he might act on whatever murderous thoughts are in his cold-blooded brain.