72 Hours

“We’re done here,” I say, stepping back. “Knock it off and learn some manners.”


“Or what?”

“Or, I’ll … be unhappy.”

There’s that grin again.

“Whatever,” I mutter, turning and attempting to rush off, but I trip and stumble into the bar, catching it to steady myself.

The man stands and walks over, leaning down and helping me up, a grin on his smug face. “I’m taking you on a date,” he says, slipping his number into my palm. “Call me, or I’ll find you.”

I open my mouth to argue, but his big hand is so warm against my arm that I can’t concentrate. When I’m safely back on my feet, he leans in and brushes his lips against my cheek before whispering, “Make sure you call me. I’m very good at tracking down what I want.”

Oh boy.

“You were so fucking flustered, it was adorable,” he says, snapping me out of my memory. “When you told me to stop because you’d be unhappy, I knew I had to have you. I could tell that you normally had all the confidence. I knew I’d gotten to you when you stammered.”

My cheeks heat.

“God, I embarrassed myself so hard that night.”

“Cutest thing I ever saw. This little gorgeous woman trying to tell a big guy like me to stop looking at her. You were trying so hard to sound serious.”

“I was serious,” I protest.

“You loved every second of it.”

I huff. “I did not like being ogled like that. Women don’t like that.”

He puts a hand on my knee and squeezes gently. “No, you loved it but didn’t want to admit it, and that’s exactly why I knew I was going to chase you. You were so different from all the other women I’d met, who all threw themselves at me. You had confidence and an independent spirit. You just came over there and gave me a piece of your mind in the fuckin’ cutest way. I was hooked.”

“I’m not cute.”

He squeezes me. “Try as you might, you’ll always be cute, baby.”

Baby.

I shiver.

“Imagine what he’s thinking right now,” I whisper into Noah’s ear. “Seeing us like this?”

Noah turns and presses his mouth to my ear. “I think he’s crapping himself, because he’s betting on us working against each other.”

“We’ll show him.”

“Yeah, Lara, we’ll show him.”

I hope he’s right.




No.

What’s happening? What the hell is happening?

They’re not meant to make up.

They’re not meant to work with each other. He’s supposed to hate her. She’s supposed to cower.

Frustration and desperation battle in my chest. This is my game, goddammit. My fucking game. They don’t choose how this goes.

She leans in and says something to him. Why can’t I hear her? What’s she saying? Why is he smiling?

I launch out of my chair and take my keys. I’m going to find out. I know they have a few more hours to go, but nobody is going to ruin this plan.

I’ve worked my entire life for this. If those fuckers think they can get away with turning it around on me, they’re wrong.

So very wrong.





NINE

I wish I could say it’s the cold that wakes me, or even the sun shining through the trees, but it isn’t either of those. It’s dark, so dark I can’t see much, but I can hear just fine. It’s the rustling that rouses me. I quickly realize that it isn’t Noah, because I’m still tucked into his side and I can hear his soft breathing beside me.

Someone else is here.

My body is frozen. I can’t move. I don’t even want to. Footsteps come close, close enough to make my breath seize in my lungs, refusing to escape. I have to act like I’m asleep. I have to pretend. Noah starts snoring softly. He has no idea that someone is standing right next to us. Is this it? Is he going to kill us? No, it hasn’t been seventy-two hours yet. No. He wants the game, he does.

So why is he here?

I keep my eyes closed and try to appear asleep even though my entire body is screaming in fear. Don’t tremble. Stay still. Try to breathe. A few seconds pass. It feels like minutes, but eventually the footsteps move away. I open my eyes just enough to see a soft light near the tree to my left. I can see it without moving from Noah’s chest.

I can make out the outline of a man. He’s tall, not overly bulky. I can’t see his hair color, or even his features, but he doesn’t look threatening from here. I suppose anyone can be a threat with a weapon, but alone not many people are actually that terrifying. A scary thought. I blink a few times, keeping my breathing even, and watch as the man reaches into a tree.

What the hell is he doing?

He fiddles around for a few minutes and then comes out with something in his hand. Goddammit, I can’t see what he’s got. I squint. Nothing. He does something else then returns the item to the tree, high enough that whatever it is can’t be seen at normal eye level. What the hell would someone put on a tree? What could he be checking?

Then it clicks.

A camera.

My body stiffens and I’m forced to take a few stuttering breaths to relax myself again. It makes perfect sense: He’s got cameras in the trees. He needs to be able to see us wherever we are and so he’s created a situation where we’ve been forced to stay on his path, because going into the dense underbrush would simply be too hard. It would take hours to move even half a mile, plus it would be impossible to see snakes and other venomous creatures. So we’ve been following his predetermined route this whole time. Playing right into his hands. God, how long would it have taken him to wire up cameras in the trees?

I watch for a few more seconds as he looks back at us. I shut my eyes, praying he didn’t see me with them open. The flashlight moves past our heads. I don’t move. I don’t even breathe. A second later it’s gone, and I can hear retreating footsteps.

I lie like that for well over an hour, needing to be sure he’s gone before gently turning my body as if I’m just moving in my sleep. I move my mouth to Noah’s ear and whisper, “Noah, wake up.”

He doesn’t move.

“Noah,” I whisper again.

He shifts and groans, then his voice comes out husky. “Lara?”

“Don’t speak out loud,” I whisper frantically. “Pretend I’m asleep.”

“Lara, are you awake?” he says.

I don’t move.

He shifts into position so we’re face-to-face. Neither of us moves.

“What’s going on?” he whispers.

“He was here.”

His entire body stiffens. “What?”

“I woke up, and he was here. I didn’t move. He didn’t know I was awake, but I saw him doing something to a tree. Noah, I think he has cameras in them.”

Noah curses under his breath. “Fuck, of course he does. I’ve been trying to figure out how he’d find us after the seventy-two hours are up. I thought he must be watching from a distance. Setting up a massive network of cameras seemed too involved.”

“It took him a while to get the camera out. He fiddled with it then put it back.”

“If he’s watching us from those cameras, then we need to be out of range,” Noah whispers, squeezing me closer.