Page 6 of Brutal Prince

If they hadn’t been wearing a pale hoody, it would have been near impossible to track them.

I try to keep my footsteps as quiet as possible, but I’m tall and my shoulders are wide — I can either lose them or let them know I’m here.

Whoever it is, they’re definitely on to me. That pale, baggy hoody keeps glancing left and right as their pace picks up.

Who the hell is this guy? He wears baggy clothing as if to disguise the fact that he’s both short and slight.

Lavish is a small town — I would have heard of someone new arriving. Which means this guy’s up to no good. Could be a vagrant from Mallhaven, or someone who got on the wrong bus and then decided to stay. We get them sometimes — people who come here lured by the promise of wealth just like my forefathers back in the day.

The guy in the hoody breaks into a jog.

I speed up, a faint smile touching my mouth.

They think they can outrun me? I’m Lavish Prep’s best receiver.

But I guess they don’t know that, do they?

* * *

Indi

I wedgemyself behind the charcoal shell of a half-burned pew, my arm brushing against a vicious looking bramble clambering through a hole in the nearby wall.

The sound of running footsteps slow, slow, stop.

I clap both hands over my mouth, and consider the risk of closing off my nose too, but I’m so out of breath, I’d probably pass out if I tried.

I hug my legs to my chest and burrow my head into them, desperate to quieten my panting. Carefully, so as not to make a sound, I lever the switchblade from my belt.

It’s only a week old, but it already feels like an appendage. Now that it’s in my hand, it feels heavy and cold. I pull out the blade, but I don’t lock it in case that tiny sound gives away my location.

The police report stated that they suspected there was only one unsub responsible for what happened to my mother. They found only one pair of footprints, only one set of prints. Someone who wasn’t in the system. Yet. I was informed invasions were a fact of life, even though I’d never heard of one happening in Lakeview before. The police told me it was probably a robbery, but that Mom surprised the thief when she came home early from her art exhibit.

If she hadn’t come home early…

If dad had still been alive…

If she’d had something to defend herself…

So many ifs, and no one mentioned the one that mattered most.

If only I hadn’t slipped out that night. Yes, it would most likely have been me surprising the thief while coming downstairs for a snack.

But then Mom would still be alive. And that’s all that matters.

Dry leaves and dirt crunch under soles as my pursuer heads deeper into the church.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

I was hoping I’d made it here fast enough that the guy would think I was long gone, but he must know these woods much better than I do — and the church is an obvious sanctuary.

Crunch.

He’s heading away.

I draw a calming breath and slowly lift my head. It’s so dark inside the church, all I can see are silhouettes. My heart just starts slowing down when my pursuer turns, and I catch sight of his profile.

A spike of fear washes me with panic, and my heart starts racing again.

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