Page 116 of Heresy

Testing the waters, I slowly take a few steps back to gauge his reaction. It’s only a small amount of distance, nothing that should concern him.

And he doesn’t move. Just keeps his attention on my face, awaiting my answer.

“My dad owned a security firm, like I said. But I don’t really know anything about it. He didn’t want me around there.”

“Luca said the same about her dad.”

Nodding at that, I cross my arms over my body again to chase away a chill. Turning toward the lake, I make it appear that I’m simply observing the water, when really I’m scanning the periphery with my eyes to see which direction I should run.

“I’m not surprised,” I answer, my words distracted as I mentally calculate how long it would take me to reach the main road. Or better yet, find some place I can hide.

There’s nothing to my left, which means I’ll have to run past Shane to go the opposite direction.

Turning back to him, I stand in place to give him his detail.

“All I know is Dad was often in contact with ex-military guys. They were my honorary uncles when they showed up at family functions or whatever.”

Some thought comes to him, the slightest tilt to his head giving it away. Noticing that, I lift my gaze over his head to look beyond him.

“Anyway, I was taught by my dad and some of those uncles that I should always be on guard. That in the blink of an eye, something awful could happen.”

There.

I see a path leading into some woods.

I have no idea how thick they are or how deep the woods go, but there should be ample hiding spaces given how dark it is. If I can reach it, I may have a chance.

“So they taught you to be afraid all the time? Sounds like shitty parenting to me.”

Unable to help myself, I trade barbs. “Teaching your child to steal, fight and abduct people sounds like shitty parenting as well.”

Angry now, his eyes narrow just a touch when he finds a small shell or rock, looks out at the water then throws it. Ripples disturb the once perfect tranquility.

“I didn’t want what my father taught me. But thanks for bringing it up.”

Eyeing me, he asks, “Are you thankful for what your dad taught you? To be afraid of everything?”

That’s not all he taught me. He also taught me that if the monsters do find me, I should fight or run like hell.

I can’t take Shane in a fight.

Which leaves me with the other option.

The adrenaline in my body is a gushing stream at the thought.

But it’s now or never.

Stepping toward him, I move like I’m finally going to take a seat. It occurs to me he never asked why I hadn’t plopped down in the sand right alongside him when it was my suggestion in the first place.

He stares at me like he’s dedicating me to memory, taking in my face, my clothes, my shoes. He’s a predator watching. And I can’t stand it.

Instead of dropping my weight down, I move quickly to stop that stare.

My hand closes over a pile of sand, my arm launching it straight at those turbulent sea eyes.

The moment it covers his face, he yells something I’m too hyped up to understand.

I’m running now. Not giving him time to think. Not caring that every so often my ankle turns in the loose sand. I just keep going. One foot in front of the other, my stride lengthening as I hit the grass and pick up speed.

---