Page 68 of Bound to a Killer

Chaos erupts behind me, gunfire shredding the air in rapid bursts as I hurl myself forward, spine curled, every shot driving me faster. I don’t look back.

Even as I reach the back door, I barrel through the gap between the metal doors, just wide enough to sprint through without slowing, my breath hitching every time I hear another shot, certain one of them will finally tear through me.

I make it out.

My eyes squint against the stark sun as I veer away from the doorframe, dodging stray bullets and nearly losing my footing.

Pain laces up my ankle and I cry out, nose scrunched.

Don’t die. Don’t die.Don’t die.

Keep moving.

I don’t have time to pause and assess or contemplate which way to go. There's nowhere to go. The uneven slab of concrete stretches endlessly, open and exposed. The few cars here are all parked behind me, but either way, they’re just as useless to me as the rest of the vast parking lot.

There’s a dumpster nearby.

I sprint toward it, aiming to dive behind the hulking, dented metal as a last resort, my ribs aching as my heels slam against the pavement. I reach it in a burst of speed that could rival an Olympian, hurl myself behind it, and drop low on my haunches.

My chest and lungs burn from my exertion, my heart ricocheting inside my chest. For a moment, it’s all I can hear. It’s impossible to steady my breath, my face twisting into a grimace as I attempt to pull myself together. I need to keep quiet. Think.

Worry strikes me when I think back to Ledger and Frankie. But they’ll be fine, right? That’s his friend. His partner. His boss. They won’t hurt them. It’s me they want. Moisture brims my lashes, but I keep the tears at bay, determined to stay as quiet as a mouse.

Eventually they’ll find me. Drag me out of my hiding spot.

A small whimper dies in my throat as I stifle it down. I should’ve already known there’s no other way out for me. Still, I ran. The brief, silent interaction between me and Ledger spurred me on.

The terror that flashed in his eyes sharpened my resolve to fight. It tugged at my nerves, fueling me with momentary hope, an ephemeral, useless feeling that I should’ve outgrown by now.

Don’t I already know how this’ll end?

But he gave me a knife.

I slip a hand into my front pocket, cringing as my fingers make contact with the sticky, thick liquid coating the blade. A revolting wave of nausea washes over me, and l lower my headbetween my crouched legs to fight off the dizziness from overtaking me.

What if he realizes he’s made a mistake, decides to take it back, and drags me inside himself?

It’s not like he has an alternative. Eventually, he’s going to come to his senses. Realize there’s no hope for me. Not when he has to choose between me and the people closest to him.

So what does this mean for me, then?

What am I going to do?

My head snaps up at the sound of encroaching footsteps, the heavy stomps getting louder, mirroring my heartbeat.

Carefully, I raise the knife, forcing the queasiness aside as I envision myself plowing it into whoever’s out there once they find me.But what if it’s Ledger?

My stomach folds in on itself. The blood pumping heavily in my veins suddenly turns ice cold.

A snarling voice slashes into the still air, “I’d come out now if I were you, little girl.” It’s not Ledger’s voice. My shoulders slouch forward, but my heart continues drumming. “You’ve already caused a great deal of trouble, don’t you think?”

His footsteps stop.

It isn’t Tanner’s voice, either. It’s the boss.

The one that wants me dead.

I bite hard on my lips, willing myself to find a way out of this, until the coppery tang of blood spreads through my mouth. My grip tightens around the blade cradled in my hand. My only source of defense.