Page 6 of Vicious Desire (Fallen Royals 4)

I pass the split to go to the state park. The fog presses in closer here. I’m suddenly swallowed by the cool mist.

It takes me a moment to realize my footsteps have doubled.

I glance over my shoulder, but the fog obscures the trail.

It’s your imagination.

I run faster, sticking to the far edge of the trail. If someone is behind me, they’re doing a great job of matching my stride. My lungs sear, and the stupid fog just won’t end.

I take another peek over my shoulder, and that’s my downfall.

My toe snags on a root, and suddenly my feet are out from under me. I slam into the ground, barely avoiding knocking my teeth out.

Dead silence surrounds me, and I slowly rise to my feet. My knees burn, my jaw aches. I turn in a small circle.

I feel watched.

“Who’s there?” I call out.

Footsteps pound down the path, but they’re coming from the wrong direction. I barely have time to step out of the way when a jogger appears. Their shoulder clips mine, and I wheel around.

My heart hammers out of control.

Laughter floats toward me.

Fuck this. I need to get out of here.

I sprint out of there like my heels are on fire and I don’t stop until I’m in my yard. I trip up the walkway and burst into the house, gripping the doorframe.

My chest has a thousand pounds on it.

“Riley?” Dad says, rounding the corner with a mug of coffee in his hands.

I cling to the door, which is probably the only thing keeping me upright.

He gently pries me loose and shuts the door, then guides me to the kitchen.

“Sit,” he orders.

I obey.

“What happened?”

I take a deep, shuddering breath. “I think—I don’t know. I thought I was being followed. I fell—”

“I can see that.” He comes back with a wet towel and drags a chair closer to me. He takes my hand and flips it palm up.

I blink, startled. My whole palm is bloody, bits of rocks and dirt embedded in my skin. My knees are the same, little trails of blood running down my shins and disappearing into my socks. How did I not notice?

Easy. You were terrified.

“Dad,” I whisper. My eyes fill with tears.

“Oh, honey.” He folds my fingers around the towel and hugs me.

I rest my head on his shoulder and try not to sob. Tiny little tremors rack through me. I was followed. I know I was.

I heard the laughter.

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