Page 127 of Fire Island
Each step up the bank, water runs from my body and my soaked jeans. My T-shirt clings to my skin. My hair I twist and sweep to one side, letting it dangle over my chest.
Assessing the distance between us and their direction of travel, I glance back south.
My wet jeans are restrictive. Not like the second skin I need to be able to move freely and silently through the forest. Toeing my shoes off, I slip out of the jeans and lay them over a fallen tree. Making quick work of hacking back and forth, I cut them off to shorts.
Better.
I slip them back on and slide my shoes onto my feet. Tucking the knife back into my waistband at my back, I swiftly run through the trees. Thanks to my light feet and delicate placement, I make next to no noise as I close in on the hut.
I slow before entering the small, weathered structure. Reese lies on the floor, still tied to the rickety chair, his wrists straining at the ropes he’s bound with. I squat by him as he mutters something to himself. His eyes are closed, his jaw clenched, like he’s about to...
I touch his arm. “Reese, I’m here.”
His eyes fly open. Shock floods his face but then anger fills it just as fast.
“Fuck! No, you shouldn’t have come, Evie. God, what the hell?”
“I’m not going to let them hurt you. Or me. We’re getting out of here.”
I lean over and pluck the knife from my back. I cut the ropes on his wrists, and he scrambles to his feet.
“I don’t know where they went, but they’ll be back,” he says, his gaze darting around the cabin before settling on the doorway.
“I know. We need to get to the southern tip. Cal will be waiting, hopefully.”
“He let you come?” His face twists with disgust.
“He doesn’tletme do anything, Reese. I make my own decisions, and this is one of them. So don’t let me regret it.”
He waves a hand at the door. “After you, MacGyver.”
I huff a laugh, surprised he knows who that is. Didn’t take him for aMacGyverfan.
“Let’s go.” I slide the knife into my waistband and turn back for the door.
Mid-step toward the threshold, I catch a syllable. The low tone is one I recognize.
Fuck.
I hold a hand up.
Sure enough, they are crashing through the trees, closing in on the hut. We can’t go through the front door; we’ll end up right in front of them.
“Window,” I breathe.
Reese rushes the window, shoving it open. It takes a few hits to budge it.
“Go!” I hiss.
His brows lower as he shakes his head, wasting damn time. I all but shove him into the window and he clambers up and out of it in a tumble of long legs, landing with a thud.
Dammit.
I pull myself up the wall and drape my body over the sill. Reese stands, turning back as he reaches for me. The second his expression changes, I know I’m done for.
A rough hand closes around my thigh.
“Where do you think you’re going,Butterfly?”
