Page 25 of Manhunt in the Narrows (Red Rock Murders #1)

A scream seared her nervous system.

Not hers. Though Sayles was close to losing her mind as images of a bullet ripping through that man’s head refused to dissipate. She’d been forced to leave him there next to his tent, his pleas for his wife’s life still shredding through her.

But it’d just been a game. One the killer had already decided the winner.

Empty promises of choosing one victim while the other would walk away unscathed replayed through her head as she’d just stood there, trying to make herself as small as possible so as not to regain the Hitchhiker Killer’s attention.

Except Patrick had never intended to let either of the campers go.

Instead, he’d pulled the trigger and left an innocent man die at her feet.

There hadn’t been anything she could’ve done to stop him. Not without taking a bullet herself.

She stumbled forward as the toe of her boot caught on a rock and turned to see that gun still aimed at her back even as the man dragged the female camper across the desert floor by her pretty blond hair.

Sayles didn’t know where they were going, had no idea how to get out of this mess.

They were at the mercy of a man who possessed no mercy.

This… She wasn’t trained for this. What happened now? “Please, you don’t have to hurt her.”

Another scream bounced off the mountains around them as the killer wrenched the woman’s head back, and Sayles’s heart squeezed too hard in her chest. The camper had dropped to her knees, trying to keep up with the killer’s push forward.

Dirt-crusted blood trickled down her shins and pooled along the tops of her white socks.

“You’re right. I don’t have to hurt her, but it’s been a long time coming.

You deserve what’s coming, don’t you, Mae? ”

Mae.

Shock slapped Sayles across the face with an invisible hand.

Her legs threatened to collapsed right out from under her.

How… How did he know her name? The hairs on the back of Sayles’s neck stood on end, and she wanted nothing but to escape.

Run as fast as she could and never look back as realization set in.

She tried to pick up on details of the woman’s face, to give herself something to keep her grounded.

The soft curve of groomed eyebrows, the way her flannel shirt—much too big for her frame—hung off her shoulders and revealed the tank top underneath.

None of it did a damn bit of good. “You…you know her?”

“Mae and I go a long way back, don’t we?” The killer smoothed the pad of his thumb along the woman’s cheek. “Years, in fact.”

Tears streaked down the camper’s—down Mae’s—face as she latched both hands on to the killer’s wrist for relief.

But there was no escape as long as Patrick kept that gun on them.

Sayles could try to run, but that would leave this woman, whoever she was, in the hands of a man who looked as though he was one wrong response away from putting a bullet in both of them.

The sobs intensified, each striking Sayles harder than the one before. “He’s my… He was my husband.”

The world almost tipped on its axis. Sayles tried to focus on something—anything—but the cavern tearing through her chest.

“ Was? Are you kidding me, Mae?” The Hitchhiker Killer tugged Mae’s head back against his abdomen with more force than necessary, earning a whimper that Sayles found all too familiar.

She’d heard it before, coming from her own mouth as her ex stood above her screaming for an answer as to why she hadn’t picked up the phone when he’d called.

“I seem to recall you telling me it was death do us part. So, no, Ranger Green. I was not her husband. I am her husband, and it’s time for Mae to come home. ”

The control, the domination and manipulation—it was all coming back in full force.

Unfiltered terror surfaced. Sweat broke across her skin despite the dip of the sun behind the mountain to the west. The urge to shrink, to hide, wrestled with the new facets she’d forged since her release from prison.

The ones that told her she was stronger than her abuser, that she’d survived, that she’d won.

They felt like nothing more than the sand stuck between her fingers compared to the black hole dragging at her body, anything but solid.

She couldn’t let it win. Couldn’t let this man win.

She’d stood up to this particular killer before, shown him she wouldn’t be beaten down to that husk of a woman again.

It hadn’t been a conscious effort but created from choice.

From Elias showing her exactly how much power she exerted.

Her choice. It’d always been her choice when it came to him, and… and she loved him for it.

The solid wall of adamant she’d built between her and the rest of the world had crumbled in a matter of days because of him.

Because he’d encouraged her to trust herself, to save herself while he’d stood nearby in case she needed help.

And she’d used that agency to reject the idea there could ever be anything between them.

She’d been wrong. So wrong. What she wouldn’t give to wake up pressed against Elias’s chest in a too-small tent again.

To hear that laugh that physically brushed her insides and surged heat into her face.

To feel his mouth on hers and forget all the hurt and the pain and the bitterness.

She’d started falling for him. And lost the chance to tell him.

Trusting Elias with her heart wasn’t about giving up her freedom.

He’d never take that from her. He’d never cage or isolate her as her ex had.

It was about choosing him over that deep-rooted fear.

And she wanted to choose him. More than anything.

Regret fought to consume her whole, but she wouldn’t give it leverage.

Squeezing her pack to her chest, Sayles understood in that moment what she had to do, what she wished someone else had done for her. She took that initial step to close the distance between her and Patrick, with Mae positioned between them.

Mae’s cries shook through her. Blond hair fisted around the killer’s hand, she couldn’t budge an inch without his permission and the Hitchhiker Killer wasn’t about to let her go again. Sayles could read it in the deadpan expression etched into his face. “How…how did you find me?”

“You didn’t think I would let my favorite plaything off the leash without having a tracker to keep tabs on you, did you?

It took some bribing, but your dentist left a few thousand dollars richer during your last cleaning.

Unfortunately for him, he didn’t live long enough to spend it.

” Zero remorse laced his words. As if violating his ex-wife had become an everyday occurrence, and Sayles had no doubt of the depths of his depravity to claim something that didn’t belong to him.

The killer hauled Mae up by her hair, pressing his mouth to her ear.

“Time to go home, darling. Where you belong.”

“Please, Patrick. Don’t do this.” Sayles took another step, grabbing on to that smallest bit of confidence Elias had praised her for so many times and holding on tight.

The second the Hitchhiker Killer got his ex out of the park, Mae’s chances of survival plummeted.

She couldn’t let that happen. Not now. Not ever again.

“I can help you. Nobody has to get hurt.”

“I’m not your wife anymore.” Mae shook her head, seemingly running out of tears. She was losing energy. Burning through whatever remnants of adrenaline her body had produced upon seeing her partner killed in front of her, and Sayles needed her to keep fighting. “I left. I’m happy. Javier—”

“Is dead, Mae. What did you think would happen?” The killer stabbed the barrel of the gun into his ex-wife’s temple, his index finger over the trigger.

Her silent scream told Sayles how much pain he’d inflicted, that he wanted it to hurt.

“That I would just let another man put his hands on you? Kiss you? Take you to bed and not pay for touching you?”

“Please.” Defeat and grief battled across Mae’s freckled face as she struggled to get free of her ex, and Sayles couldn’t wait anymore.

“Please, what?” Patrick pressed his face against Mae’s tears. “Let you go? I gave you everything. A house, a better life. I paid for your clothes, your food, anything you wanted. All I wanted in return was for you to love me as much as I loved you, but you just couldn’t do that, could you?”

“You killed him.” Mae was on the verge of losing herself to the anger, the grief.

Now. Sayles had to go now. “Hey, Patrick?”

His gaze locked on hers.

“Go to hell.” Sayles threw her pack at the killer as hard she could. The weight slammed against his chest and knocked him back. The gun arced away from Mae’s head. Just for a moment. Sayles grabbed for the woman’s hand and tugged, forcing Mae to her feet. “Run!”

The desert stretched out in front of them.

The gun exploded from behind, and Sayles’s instinct automatically had her ducking her head to avoid a bullet. She clutched on to Mae as hard as she dared so they wouldn’t be separated, blocking her head with her other hand. As if it would be enough to stop dying as Javier had. “Come on!”

The last slivers of watery sunlight vanished from the horizon, leaving nothing but a warm orange glow in the sky.

Within minutes, they’d have nothing but their pathetic human vision to navigate the wilderness, but it was enough.

It would have to be enough. Weeds and cacti clawed at their exposed shins as they worked together to create as much distance between them and Patrick as possible.

“Mae!” Rage coated that one word, hiking Sayles’s defenses into overdrive. A second gunshot ripped through the night, but they couldn’t stop. Not yet. Not yet. “I will find you, Mae! I will make you pay for those ninety-two days you’ve been gone.”

The air was thinner here at 5,500 feet. Dizziness swam through her head, but she only dragged Mae to her side, unwilling to let go as they confronted the base of the mountain to the east. Her boots caught on a rock she hadn’t detected with her adjusting vision, and Sayles hit the ground.

Cactus needles pierced the skin of her palms, and it took everything she had not to scream in pain. To give away their position.

“Are you okay?” Mae tried to help her to her feet.

“Keep going.” Scanning the massive wall of rock in front of them, Sayles ignored the agony in her chest and knees. She’d hit harder than she expected, but it wasn’t enough to stop her from escaping. “We have to climb.”

The mountain seemed to ignore their desperation, throwing obstacles in their path as they clawed upward.

Patches of rock and weeds bled together in the lack of sunlight.

Snakes and scorpions—along with much more dangerous wildlife—lived in these mountains, but Sayles couldn’t think about any of them right now.

“You can’t hide from me! I will find you both, and when I do I’ll finish this, I swear. You’ll never leave me again, Mae.” Patrick’s voice had gained some distance. “Shall we play a game of Marco Polo? Marco…”

Sayles’s hand flattened on a length of rock that went deeper into the mountain. Cool air brushed across her face, almost begging her to get closer. She shoved Mae ahead of her, keeping her voice low. “In here.”

“Marco!” That single word tensed the muscles down Sayles’s spine.

The cave mouth wasn’t large, but it would provide them a couple minutes of rest. That was all they could afford. Sayles scrambled across the dirt-covered floor, maneuvering Mae deeper, away from the entrance. A burning odor clogged the back of her throat, but they had no other choice.

“Behind me.” She positioned Mae at her back as she faced off with the mouth of the cave. A shadow crossed at the entrance, and Sayles fought down a shiver.

His frame came into view, dark against the backdrop of the last glow of the day. “Marco…”