8. Myles #2
I didn’t get a good look at him before he seemed to materialize out of nowhere, but he’s once again clad head to toe in fitted black clothes with an oversized hood obscuring his face.
He’s warm and solid behind me, and his hands are rough and lightly calloused.
Everything about him screams danger, but the faint scent of apple shampoo and spicy cologne that surrounds us is weirdly calming.
“Think really hard before you answer,” a low, raspy voice says in my ear. “Are you sure you want to do this? If you run and try to hide from me, I will find you. But I won’t just find you.”
I swallow at the implication. He could be saying that he’ll hurt me, but my instincts are telling me he means something completely different.
Something I’ve not only dreamed about but have spent way too many hours thinking about.
Something I’ve never told anyone because I know they’ll never look at me the same if they find out what I’m truly into.
But this isn’t a fantasy. This is real life. He’s giving me an out. Too bad I’m not smart enough to take it.
“I understand,” I croak as more adrenaline pours into my veins.
He loosens his grip on me and drops his hand from my neck. “Twenty, nineteen, eighteen?—”
It takes a second to process that this is really happening, then I dart out of his arms and race away from him as he continues his countdown.
I’ve spent enough time wandering around the woods since I started school that I don’t think twice about veering off the path and running deeper into the forest.
The ground is uneven beneath my feet as I duck under low-hanging branches and run around fallen trees. My footfalls are way too loud, and my breathing is already harsh, but I don’t dare slow down.
I’m so focused on trying to get away that I’m not watching my feet, and I trip over an exposed root. I instinctively bite my lip to silence my cry of surprise and desperately grab at the tree in front of me so I don’t face-plant on the forest floor.
It’s not pretty or graceful, but I manage to stay on my feet, my heart racing as even more adrenaline floods my system. The near silence that surrounds me, punctuated by my harsh breaths and racing heart, makes me pause.
Is he done counting? Has he started looking for me yet?
“Ready or not,” a raspy voice calls from my left.
I whirl toward the voice and scan the trees, but there’s no sign of him. A jolt of panic mixes with the adrenaline still flowing through me, and I can’t tell if I’m terrified, excited, or both.
“Here I come,” the voice says. He’s closer now. But I still can’t see him.
Rather than stick around and wait to be found, I take off again. I’m running blind, and I have no idea which direction I’m headed in or where I am, but that doesn’t stop me from racing deeper into the woods.
Before my parents got rich, we lived on a semi-isolated plot of land surrounded by forest. I spent my childhood playing there, and I’m as comfortable out here as I am when I wander around my old hometown.
I thought that would give me at least a bit of an advantage over him, but I can already hear the echo of footsteps behind me, heavy and steady as he closes in on me.
More excitement joins my fear as I try to lose him, taking what I hope are unpredictable turns as I jump over fallen logs and dodge around rocks.
I toss a quick look over my shoulder and almost stumble when I see a dark silhouette in the trees about twenty feet behind me.
Digging one foot into the ground, I do a quick pivot to change directions and slip between a cluster of trees, then take another hard turn and run toward a pile of moss-covered rocks, tossing another glance over my shoulder to see if I’ve managed to shake him.
I don’t see or hear him, and pride settles in my chest as I dive behind the rocks and press myself against them.
I’m breathing hard, but not from exertion.
I’ve barely covered any ground, but the fear and adrenaline from being chased are tightening my chest and making my heart race like I just finished doing uphill wind sprints.
The snap of a twig in the distance catches my attention, and I put both hands over my mouth to try and quiet my breathing.
Did he hear me? Is he closing in on me again?
What’s he planning when he catches me?
My cheeks and neck flush hot, and my entire body tightens. I’m crazy. There’s no other explanation for why I’m doing this—or why I like it so much.
What the fuck is wrong with me that being chased through the woods by a stranger who’s been stalking me is the most exciting thing I’ve ever experienced? What does it say about me that instead of being terrified, my dick is half hard?
The crunch of leaves under a heavy foot pulls my attention away from my wayward thoughts, and I instinctively press myself even tighter against the rocks behind me.
Another heavy step, then the snap of a twig tells me he’s getting closer, but there’s something about the sounds that feels off. Like he’s deliberately making noise to let me know where he is.
Carefully, I peek over the top of the rocks, then immediately duck back down as more of that adrenaline and fear combo rushes through my veins.
He’s only about ten feet away and closing the distance between us with long, sure strides that are even more terrifying than when he was running after me.
For a second, I’m frozen, then my instincts kick in, and I jump up and take off, running away at full speed.
The trees are closer together now, and the ground is littered with fallen logs, exposed roots, and protruding rocks, forcing me to slow down so I can slalom through them without falling on my face.
It’s fully dusk now, and the woods are getting darker, making everything that much more dangerous. The shadows and dim light amplify my excitement and fear as I spot another cluster of large rocks to my left.
I do another hard pivot and race over to them. Once I’m safely behind them, I clamp both hands over my mouth again and try to get as small as possible as I listen for any signs that he’s around.
A gentle rustle filters through the trees, and I focus on the sound, trying to pinpoint where it came from.
The woods around here don’t have any predators in them, but there are smaller animals and birds and other things that make noise.
Was that something harmless, or was it him?
I’m just about to peek out over my rocks when he steps out from behind a large tree about six feet from where I’m still crouching.
More fear and panic fill me, and I react without thinking as he walks toward me, taking those measured steps that are still somehow scarier than the heavy ones of him chasing me.
I try to jump up and run away, but I get tangled up in my limbs and end up falling forward, landing hard on my hands and knees.
It takes me two tries, but I scramble to my feet as he closes the distance between us.
I can barely think as more of that exhilarating fear fills me, and I race away from him, tripping and stumbling as I desperately try to flee.
I’m too afraid to look behind me, and I’m also too panicked to really pay attention to where I’m running as I break through the trees and into a small clearing surrounding a tall rock wall.
I skid to a stop without tripping or crashing into the wall and start running parallel to it. I’m so turned around that I have no idea where I am, or even how far from school I am, but I don’t dare slow down so I can orient myself.
I don’t have to look over my shoulder to know he’s following me, and every thud of his booted foot hitting the forest floor sends another rush of exhilarating fear through me.
I spot a break in the trees and race through it, desperately looking around for a place to hide. I need to find somewhere that doesn’t look like a hiding spot, and I’m so focused on searching out a suitable place that I don’t immediately notice the footsteps behind me have stopped.
I look over my shoulder, half expecting to see him silently closing in on me. But there’s nothing. He isn’t behind me anymore.
What the hell?
I slow to an easy jog and look around, spinning in a full circle as I scan the area around me. I can’t see him anywhere.
Did I lose him?
Shaking my head, I slow to a walk. I just need to find somewhere to hide, then I can figure out where the hell I am.
“Eeep!”
The squeal that escapes me is embarrassing as fuck, but I’m too focused on the black-clad figure standing directly in front of me, his hood hanging low and obscuring his face, to care how dumb I sound.
A fear unlike anything I’ve ever experienced rushes through me, and I stop dead in my tracks as he stands there like an apex predator kettling his prey.
My chest heaves as heavy breaths saw out of me, and I’m relieved to see his shoulders rising and falling as he also draws in heavy, panting breaths as we stand there like we’re in some sort of face-off.
His foot twitches, like he’s about to take off. That’s enough to send a rush of panic through me and activate my fight-or-flight response.
I do a hard turn and run back the way I came, but his heavy footsteps are loud and closing in on me. I try to run faster, but the ground is unusually soft here and the rocks are slippery and uneven, forcing me to slow down.
He doesn’t seem to have that issue thanks to the heavy boots he’s wearing, and thanks to the steady thud of his footsteps, I don’t need to look behind me to know he’s rapidly closing the distance between us.
More of that fear and panic fill my chest, and my vision goes white as a loud buzz fills my ears and a hand closes over my shoulder.
The scream I let out is high-pitched and ridiculous, but I don’t have time to be embarrassed as he wraps his other arm around my waist and lifts me right off the ground.
Using our combined momentum, he swings us around, sort of slingshotting us in a half circle until we’re facing in the opposite direction.
The spin also slows us down, and his tight grip, combined with the way he digs his feet into the ground and throws our weight backward, brings us to a complete stop.
I’m weirdly grateful he didn’t tackle me as my feet touch back down on the forest floor. I’m only wearing a t-shirt and a pair of running leggings, and the sharp rocks and pieces of broken trees around us would have torn me to shreds.
“Gotcha,” he rasps in my ear.
I make a weird sound, sort of a cross between a gasp and a groan. Excitement and more of that confusing arousal pour into my system, and my dick goes even harder as heat pools deep in my belly.
I’m too overwhelmed to say anything, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he gives me a rough shove toward a large tree about six feet in front of us.
I stumble as my feet slip on the uneven ground, but he’s on me a second later, guiding me to the tree with a firm grip that stops me from falling.
I get my arms up in front of me so I don’t smash face-first into the tree, but that’s about all I manage as he uses his bigger body to sandwich me against the rough bark.
His breaths are harsh and loud in my ear, and the scent of apples and cardamom mixes with something that smells a little like leather and old books, making my brain glitch out as little bursts of calm break through my fear.
He caught me, exactly like he said he would.
What is he going to do to me now that he has me?