Page 38 of The Lies We Steal

We took a second, to accept the fact Silas had just killed someone. For the first time he’d ended a human’s life and it should have hit me harder than it did. Something inside of me should have changed if I was a normal person. But I wasn’t. It just felt like a normal day.

And from that moment, that’s when everything when to absolute shit.

I heard it.

The sound of a branch snapping, which could be an animal, but then I heard a girl screaming. It echoed around us, but I could tell it was close. Too close.

I jerked my head towards the sound, only seeing trees, until the moon gave me a perfect glimpse of where that scream had come from.

Not an animal, but a very scared, Briar Lowell laid on the forest floor. A friend of hers, standing behind her staring at us with her jaw on the ground.

I made eye contact with Briar. I saw the switch inside her brain shift to instinct over normal human reactions. She was about to dart.

There was a mixture of emotions that flooded my body. One was irritation. Why the fuck was she in the middle of these woods? Had she been following us? Irritation that I now had another problem I was going to need to handle. Irritation that she could be the reason we go down for murder.

She just went from an annoying pest, that felt good beneath my fingers. To public enemy number one.

However, the other emotion was raw.

It was the striking of flint inside the carnal part of me.

Like a wounded zebra, she held nothing but fear and survival in her eyes. They’d just witnessed everything we’d done to Chris. They had just seen what we were capable of and I highly doubt they planned to keep their mouths shut about it.

Like the night at the party, she knew what I would do next.

She knew I was the hunter and she was my prey, even more now.

Natural selection at its finest.

A race to see who wants it more. They want to live and we are not going to get caught.

Predator versus prey.

And I never lose.

“The blonde is mine.” I say arrogantly.

Rook howls into the night with laughter, the sinister cackle bouncing off the trees. The one who takes nothing seriously and is just excited to be a part of the chase. Thatcher has already started sprinting after them and Silas has made the executive decision to wait with Chris’s body until we handle this problem.

My feet carry me through the winding trees, rain falling down in small drops sliding down the back of my shirt. Boots thundering beneath my feet, pressing into the dirt to push me forward. I can see streaks of her wild honey colored hair, whipping behind her violently as she pumps her arms, willing her body to take her far away from me.

I’d entered into instinct mode. The burning in my chest from short spells of oxygen was ignored. I wasn’t thinking of what would happen after this. The adrenaline that covers my insides is only allowing me to focus on one thing.

Catching her.

My reflexes help more in this moment than ever before as I dodge trees, fallen branches and rocks protruding from the ground. I watch as Briar’s legs propel her forward, straining her tight jeans. Her red and black plaid button down flapping in the wind.

My little red riding hood running from the big bad wolf.

Our story is inevitable.

I catch her.

I feast.

Her left foot ruins her. It catches an overgrown root, tripping her up just enough that I’m able to catch up.

I’m on her heels, she can feel me behind her now, all faith of getting away is slowly leaving her body and hopelessness will soon start to settle inside of her.

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