Page 58 of The Hunter

My stomach twisted.

“Where’s Henry?” I breathed, glancing between Cato and the dark forest.

At the sound of his name, Cato barked again. Short. Clipped. Then looked toward the cloak of trees.

There was no question in my mind where Henry was.

I moved to the closet and grabbed a coat, along with a pair of too-large boots. I quickly laced them up as tight as they could go before pulling on a pair of oversized gloves and a hat that slid down to my brows. I spotted a flashlight lying half-buried on the closet floor and snatched it up.

The second I stepped onto the porch, the cold hit me like a wall. This was the first time I’d been outside since my escape attempt. The air smelled like pine and wet earth. I sucked in a sharp breath as the freezing rain assaulted my face like icy needles. It made my eyes water and my lungs burn, but it wasn’t painful.

Instead, it invigorated me.

Cato led the way, his movements fluid and confident. Mine were not. Every branch that cracked underfoot sent my heart skittering. My boots slid on patches of ice as we weaved between trees, the beam of my flashlight trembling with every step. But I still pushed forward.

We walked for what felt like forever. My thighs burned. My calves ached. My lungs heaved. I didn’t know how much farther I could go.

And then I saw Henry slumped against a tree, his head lolling slightly to one side. A deep gash split his forehead, blood streaking down his temple and drying in uneven rivulets along his cheek and neck. The snow beneath him was smeared red, the stain leading to the edge of a shallow ravine.

He must’ve fallen and somehow, God only knows how, crawled his way out. No wonder Cato came to get me. Obviously Henry couldn’t make it back to the house on his own.

Which meant he wouldn’t be able to stop me if I tried to escape.

This was it. My chance.

He was alone. Injured. Barely conscious. He couldn’t stop me. Wouldn’t even be able to stand in my way without falling over.

If I left now, I could be gone before he was well enough to come after me. No more games. No more cryptic silences. No more emotional whiplash. No more unanswered questions. Just…freedom.

I glanced in the direction I’d just come, wondering if I’d be able to find my way. I was fairly confident I could. I’d just need to follow the tracks Cato and I made in the snow.

A low growl sounded beside me and I looked down at Cato. Almost like he knew exactly what I was thinking.

“Planning your big escape?” Henry’s hoarse voice cut through the silence. “It’s the perfect opportunity.”

I flinched and turned toward him. His eyes were cracked open, blood crusting in the corners. He looked like hell. Nothing like the intimidating man who abducted me from my own home.

“I should leave you here,” I muttered.

“You should.” He gave a weak smile. “You’d be stupid not to. You’ll most likely never have the opportunity again.”

He was right. Ishouldgo. If I stayed to help him, I’d miss out on what could be my one chance to escape. But I couldn’t leave him here. Not like this.

He wasn’t my captor right now. He was a man bleeding in the snow, half-frozen and broken, looking more human than he’d ever let himself be around me.

Probably everyone else, too.

I dropped to my knees beside him, my hands already moving over his outstretched leg, feeling for breaks or swelling. “Can you walk?”

He hissed through his teeth when I gently squeezed around his boot. “Ankle’s fucked. Head’s worse.”

“You’re bleeding everywhere.”

“I noticed.” His hand drifted lazily toward his head, then fell to his side.

“You need a hospital.”

He laughed, and then immediately doubled over, retching into the snow.