Page 101 of The Hunter

He murmured something unintelligible.

I moved fast, not knowing how much time those pills would buy me. Regardless, I fought to stay calm as I washed the dishes, erasing any evidence he may later uncover of what I’d done. I checked on him every few minutes to make sure he hadn’t somehow regained his faculties. He was still conscious, but fighting it with every second.

The third time I checked, he was out cold, his soft snores filling the air.

My heart kicked into high gear. I ran to the bedroom, yanked on the jeans and t-shirt I’d worn the day he abducted me. I was about to hurry back down the stairs when I spied Henry’s duffel bag once more. I hastily unzipped it and grabbed a fat wad of cash. A part of me hated stealing from him, but why should I care? This was money he’d been paid for me. I had a right to it.

I started to zip the duffel back up when my eyes fell on the cell phone. I had no idea where I was or where to go. The phonemay not have had any bells and whistles, but it did have a GPS. I could use that.

After shoving it in my pocket, I crept back down the stairs, keeping my feet light so as to not wake up Henry. From the closet, I grabbed a coat, hat, and gloves, as well as my sneakers. Then I headed toward the door leading to the garage.

I placed my hand on the knob and was about to turn when a soft whine cut through the silence. I turned around to see Cato sitting behind me, his eyes drawn. He let out a single sharp bark.

My breath hitched, adrenaline heating my veins, especially when a groan sounded from the living room.

Shit.

“Cato,” Henry mumbled, his voice slurred and heavy with exhaustion. “Hush.”

For one terrifying second, I thought he might get up. That he’d come stumbling in here and find me halfway out the door with his cash and phone in my pocket. But the groan was followed by silence. Then a snore.

I didn’t breathe until I heard the rhythm of it settle again. Then I crouched down to Cato’s level and scratched his head.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “But I have to go.”

Cato lowered himself to the floor, his big head resting on his paws, watching me with mournful eyes.

“I don’t belong here.”

He released a soft huff, like he understood. Or maybe like he knew he couldn’t stop me.

This time when I reached for the knob, he didn’t bark. I eased the door open, giving Cato one last smile before slipping into the garage.

The keys to the Jeep were exactly where they were the last time I was in here. Grabbing them, I searched for a button, something that would open the large bay doors.

I didn’t have to look far, finding one next to the panel holding all the keys, each one labeled with a number. I took a risk on number two and the door in front of the Jeep rose, slow and ominous, revealing the dark wilderness surrounding us.

I hurried to the vehicle and jumped inside, my hands trembling as I gripped the wheel. It had been so long since I’d driven, especially a stick shift. But it came back, muscle memory taking over.

Clutch. Brake. Ignition.

The engine rumbled to life, and I eased the Jeep forward, the tires crunching over frozen gravel.

As I turned on the dirt path, I glanced in the rearview mirror at the house that had been both haven and prison.

One breath.

Two.

Then I kept driving. Toward freedom. Toward answers. Toward whatever came next.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Henry

The shrill ring of my phone yanked me out of sleep like a punch to the gut.

I blinked up at the ceiling, disoriented. My mouth was dry, my head cloudy. The room was dim, the only light coming from a lamp in the corner. The cushion beneath me was too rough to be the bed.