Page 95 of Nave
It whacked hard at the center of his chest, leaving a dirty spot right there on his perfect shirt.
His gloved hand went up instinctively, wiping frantically at the spot. He only accomplished making the stain spread, dragging a frustrated grunt out of him.
I might not have been the same.
But Ben was.
And I wondered how well I could use the general filth all around us against him. How far would I have to push him before he flipped, focusing on the dirt more than me, giving me a chance to flee?
With him distracted, I turned and ran.
My pulse rattled so hard I thought I might pass flat-out.
But I didn’t have that luxury.
I had to get away.
I had to get to safety.
I had to call the police, call Nave, call someone.
My shoes slipped in damp soil as I ran.
I heard footsteps behind me, and I carefully swung my leg out, then back, scraping the ground and sending the mud flying.
The disgusted growl that escaped Ben told me I at least got some of it on him as I charged forward, ducking between the rows of trees.
“Stop this,” Ben barked.
Was he gaining on me? I swore I could feel his breath on my neck. Was that real, or just my worst imaginings playing tricks on me?
I didn’t know.
I just had to keep going.
“This isn’t good for the baby.”
Ice sleeked through me.
He knew.
Of course he knew.
This was a man who could hack any camera, who could watch people without them realizing. There was no way to hide anything from him if he was looking.
“Not that it matters,” he added. That time, I could hear him gaining on me. “You’re not keeping it.”
Fury detonated in my chest.
He’d taken everything from me once.
I’d be damned if he did it again.
His fingertips—grippy and rubbery from the gloves—closed around my upper arm.
There was a second of panic, of defeat. So strong I nearly stayed planted.
But, no.
