Page 135
Story: Seeing Red
Greyson was on my heels as I walked over to the closest flat surface, his nightstand.
Shaking the dice, I exhaled and released them, closely watching them roll until they landed in their final position.
Three on the right. One on the left.
“Four minutes,” Greyson announced over my shoulder. “From the time you leave my room when I sayrun.”
My pulse thumped harder in my chest.
Four minutes. Then he was coming to get me.
Anticipation tied my tongue in knots, but I looked up at him with a subtle curve of my lips.
“Four minutes,” he repeated. “Let’s see how far you get, Red.”
His hand wound around the back of my head through my braids, the pressure of his touch grounding, even as my heart tried to leap out of my chest.
“Safe word?”
“Whiskey,” I breathed, falling into the depth of his nearly black gaze.
“And if your mouth is busy?”
Instead of speaking, I extended my hand, tapping his forearm three times in the signal we had agreed on.
Greyson gave me an approving wink. “Good girl.”
In the next second, he kissed me deeply, murmuring, “I love you.Remember that,” against my lips.
The words were so soft, I almost thought I imagined them.
I blinked and his hands were no longer on me. He was a few feet away from me, watching me silently.
He glanced at his watch.
Then back at me.
Adrenaline surged through me, waiting for his next words.
“Run, Red.”
The first time I ran from Greyson, I didn’t know he was chasing me.
All I’d known was that there was somebody in the trees with me and I needed to get away from them. Leaves and branches had crunched under my feet while I tried to escape. Those same leaves had crunched under Greyson’s shoes, warning me that he was closing in on me.
This time, there was nothing but silence and the sound of my breathing.
This time, I didn’t know where the fuck I was going or how the fuck I was getting there.
Once I got past a certain point, I couldn’t remember the path I’d taken the first time, but I wasn’t about to stop and make it easier for Grey to find me.
No more than two minutes could have passed since I sprinted out of his room. Or maybe my sense of time was warped. I wanted to kick myself for not pacing myself.
My lungs already burned from exhaustion, and I was still close enough to my cabin to see it through the barren trees.
Running through snow wasn’t as easy as I thought, no matter how pliant it was under my feet.
It took effort to pull my legs up on every stride and frustration was trying to worm its way into my brain, telling me I wouldn’t be able to run from him.
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