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Someone grabbed me from behind and placed a plastic bag over my head. I screamed as terror spiked. But the scream and my own heavy breathing suffocated me. But I kept at it as the bag muffled my cries. I tried to fight off the attacker by scratching his face. But my fingernails dug into a mask. Panic overwhelmed me. Was I going to die like this?

No. I kicked and punched out, but someone shoved my hands down in front of me.

“If you don’t want to die, stay away from him, bitch.” The woman spoke through something that distorted her voice.

A knife pricked my rib cage. “Stay still,” said a man, probably the one wearing the mask.

“Kiera!” Forrest called my name in the distance.

My heart leaped, and I shouted for him. But my cry wasn’t loud enough.

“Keep quiet or we’ll kill him too,” she warned.

The man pulled the bag tightly around me, and panic intensified. My body shook, and I couldn’t breathe.

I heard Forrest calling me again, but I couldn’t scream and dared not take a deep inhale.

“Kiera!”

I kicked at something on the ground, and it made a sound somewhere.

“Fuck! He’s here, Yvette.”

Curses erupted, and the man released me. I yanked off the bag, breathing hard.

Forrest spotted me, rushed over, and crouched. He tipped up my chin to examine me. Worry and viciousness swam in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Concern for him numbed my other emotions.

“You stay put. I’m going to kill them.” The lethal look in his eyes told me he meant it. He glanced toward the shadow of the man running away and dashed after him.

“Don’t! I’m fine!”

Fear gripped me, the sensation more powerful than the terror I’d just experienced. What if something happened to him?What if there were more attackers waiting there?

I pushed myself up and rushed after Forrest with adrenaline pumping through my blood. I followed the dirt path deeper into the garden that led into the woods. No one was around.

A scream erupted nearby, and I ran toward it. When I got there, Forrest was pummeling the unconscious man. Blood oozed from Forrest’s hand.

“Stop!” I gripped his arm. “You’re hurt.”

My presence made him turn toward me. He stepped away, and his chest heaved. I could feel the violence pumping off him.

I stared down at the man who had tried to suffocate me. His face was now all bloodied and bruised. His head lolled to the side with the damaged mask near his face.

“Is he dead?”I asked, worry icing my stomach.

The bloody knife sat beside a tree trunk across from the man.

“No. But he should be.” He grunted as he clenched his fists, and blood oozed through the seams of his fingers.

The terror that should have arrived from the sight of blood didn’t. The only emotion in me was the concern for Forrest’s wellbeing. Excessive blood loss would be detrimental to his health. My legs didn’t wobble, and I didn’t freeze from helplessness like I used to.

I reached for his clenched fist. “Let me see.” I opened hishand and saw a gash across his palm. “Oh my God. You need a doctor.”

“Iama doctor.” He smirked.

How could he smirk at a time like this?