Page 46 of The One Night Match (Mafia Matchmaker #1)

FORTY-SIX

RILEY

M y lungs burn as I sprint through the trees, but they’re not my main worry right now.

Nor is the fact that my feet and ankles are bleeding, or that it’s getting colder by the second, and I’m dressed in nothing more than a men’s T-shirt and a pair of destroyed socks.

No. My concern begins and ends with the two people who are chasing me like I’m their prey.

And I guess I am in some ways.

They’re hunting me, a trophy to take back to whoever the hell hired them, but I’m not going down like a frightened deer.

I’m going to fight with everything I have, even if it means freezing half to death in the process.

It’s been a while since I heard anyone’s footsteps apart from my own, and I press my back to a large tree that’s wide enough to conceal me, even if it’s just for a moment while I catch my breath.

The tears I’ve been trying to keep at bay trickle down my cheeks, but I swipe them away. There will be time to fall apart once I’m safe, but right now I need to keep my shit together.

I tighten my hold on the pipe, reminding myself I have a weapon, even if it’s not going to do shit if Monica and her accomplice have a gun.

I’ve yet to see whoever it is, but I’m taking that as a good sign for the moment because it means they haven’t gotten close enough to see me.

The sun set a while ago, leaving only the moon to guide me through the endless trees.

At first, I thought I would eventually hit a road, but so far, it’s nothing but vegetation as far as the eye can see, and don’t even get me started on the incline.

If I survive this, I’m not going to have to do cardio for a year.

Something rustles to my left, and my breath stutters as I press myself harder into the bark. It’s sharp and jagged, but a few cuts and scrapes are better than being taken or killed.

“I can’t believe you let her get the jump on you,” a masculine voice mutters, and I squint into the night as I try to place it. I’ve heard it before, right down to that tone, but I’m struggling to put the pieces together with my mind riddled with anxiety.

“How the fuck was I supposed to know she was going to hit me with a pipe?” Monica snaps. “I probably have a concussion or something. The bitch better not have scarred me.”

The man growls something under his breath that sounds a lot like, “I’ll give you scars to complain about,” but I’m too far away to know for sure.

I press my eyes closed, focusing on keeping my breathing even and quiet as their voices begin to fade again.

I’ve never been very good with directions, and I was too distracted running for my life to notice where the sun set, meaning I’m not going to have any hope of finding my way back to the house until at least sunrise. And that’s if I can figure out the route my panic-riddled legs brought me.

I could stay put, which will either make me a sitting duck for Monica and company, or I can head back the way we came in the hope of stumbling over some help.

Neither option is particularly appealing, if I’m honest, but the safer one is likely putting more distance between me and them, even if it means getting more lost than I already am.

I peek out from my hiding spot, checking my surroundings before I step out from behind the tree and move in the direction I think we came from.

I’m not totally sure, considering I spent a lot of time zigging and zagging when I first took off in the hope it would confuse them, and it seems to have worked.

It took a few minutes for them to follow me, either because Monica was slow getting up or because she had to wait for the man to come with her.

Either way, it gave me the head start I desperately needed, even if I’m now completely and utterly lost.

Maybe I should take a nature course or something, especially if I’m going to be living in the mountains like this.

My chest aches at the thought, because that may not be my reality.

I could find my way out of this forest and find myself on a plane back to San Francisco tomorrow.

Would that be such a bad thing? Being back with the people I know? The ones I can trust? Maybe I could get my job back at the library.

Or maybe I could spend some time traveling.

I was always too scared to go by myself, but if this experience has taught me anything, it’s that I shouldn’t have spent all those years afraid to live my life.

Swiping another rogue tear from my cheek, I force my mind off Cruz and the note I wasn’t supposed to find. The last thing I need right now is to let my emotions run rampant and get me killed, even if my heart aches with the idea that he won’t fight for me. That he made me love him just to break me.

Droplets of rain fall around the trees, and I sigh.

Fantastic.

This is exactly what will make this experience all the better.

Hopefully, it stays a drizzle and doesn’t pick up because the ground is uneven enough without adding puddles of water and slippery mud to the mix.

W ell, I jinxed myself with that one, because no sooner did I think the thought, did it start bucketing down with rain.

And don’t even get me started on the thunder that grows closer with every rumble.

A storm? Really?

Am I truly this unlucky?

I wipe droplets from my eyes as I struggle to see a few feet in front of me.

Up until now, I was sure I could keep going, putting the most possible distance between me and the people chasing me, but at this point I think I need to find somewhere to wait out the storm.

I have no idea where I am, and more than that, the wetter I get, the harder I shiver because I’m so cold it hurts to breathe.

How cold does it have to be to get hypothermia?

I shake off the thought and duck behind a boulder with a small lip above it, acting like a pergola. Not a very good one because there’s a steady drip hitting my head every few seconds, but it’s better than nothing.

Exhaustion clings to my every muscle, but I can’t allow myself to sleep. I have to remain vigilant because I’m too weak to fight them if they find me.

If it were just Monica, I might have a chance, but without any idea who the man she has with her is, I doubt I’d stand a chance against both of them.

I rest my head back on the hard rock and allow my eyes to close for a moment.

The desperate need to fall apart tugs at me, but I shove it down.

Instead, I focus on the rain hitting the forest floor, on the soft sounds the birds make within the trees, on the sound of my own breathing, bringing my heart rate down for the first time since I turned around and found Monica standing in the doorway to the office.

I am strong.

I am capable.

I am going to survive this.

I am going to live a beautiful life.

I repeat the affirmations in my head over and over again, a mantra to keep me awake and fighting as the cold night bites into my bones, until my body has no other choice but to succumb to sleep and consciousness falls away, leaving me weak and vulnerable.