CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
HAZEL
THE NEXT DAY, I can’t sit still. No matter how hard I try to distract myself, my thoughts circle back to the kiss or to my family. But mostly the kiss.
I scold myself for giving it this much space in my head. It wasn’t that great. Just a stupid kiss. But even as I think it, I know it’s a lie. It was good enough to almost undo me, and that’s the problem. My fingers tap against my leg as I pace the bedroom. The air feels suffocating, and if I stay cooped up in this house any longer, I’ll lose my mind.
I throw on a coat and find Kieran in one of the spare rooms. The saw whirs loudly, dust and wood chips scattering across the floor. He doesn’t see me at first, not until I step closer. His gaze lifts, and just like that, the saw stops.
“I would like to take Charlie for a walk,” I say, my voice steady, though I’m bracing for the fight. I expect him to shoot me down, to list every reason why I can’t.
But he doesn’t. He wipes the sweat from his brow and nods once. “All right.”
I blink, caught off guard. “That’s it?”
“You’re surprised I’m not chaining you to a chair?” His mouth twitches, like he’s amused by the idea. “Don’t make me regret it.”
I don’t waste another second. I’m dressed and ready to go before he can change his mind. But just as I turn toward the door, Kieran closes the distance between us. I freeze when he leans in, his gaze dropping to my coat pockets.
“What are you doing?” I ask, trying to step back.
He doesn’t stop. His hands slide over the fabric, searching my pockets like he owns me. “Making sure you’re not carrying a screwdriver or another weapon.”
I should laugh. Hell, I should say something sarcastic, but my mind blanks as the heat of his hands seeps through my coat. His fingers glide over my waist, then lower, and my breath hitches. My body betrays me, reacting to the feel of him even though I know better.
“There’s nothing,” I whisper, my voice shakier than I want it to be.
He steps back, satisfied. “Good.” He grabs his coat, and without another word, we head outside with Charlie at our heels.
The cold air bites at my skin, but it’s a relief after being trapped indoors. Mountains stretch endlessly around us, their peaks dusted with snow. The dirt path is uneven, dotted with patches of grass and scattered stones. Charlie trots ahead, sniffing everything in sight.
I glance around, but I’m not admiring the view. I’m searching. My eyes skim the ground, scanning for anything that could be useful. A stick. A rock. Anything I could use as a weapon. My fingers curl around a small twig, but I toss it aside. Too light. Too weak.
Kieran watches me from a few feet back, his gaze sharp. He knows I’m up to something, but I don’t care. I pick up a stick, weighing it in my hands. Useless. With a frustrated sigh, I throw it. “Get it, Charlie,” I say, forcing cheerfulness into my voice.
Charlie springs after it, tail wagging as he retrieves the stick and trots back to me. I throw it again, my heartbeat speeding up. Kieran still hasn’t said anything, but I can feel his eyes on me.
The third time I throw the stick, I spot something better—a heavier, solid branch half-buried in the dirt. My fingers wrap around it, and I don’t give myself time to second-guess. I swing.
The impact is brutal. The branch connects with the side of Kieran’s head, and the sound is jarring—a mix of bone and wood. He shouts in pain, stumbling back, and for a split second, I freeze. His hand flies to his face, blood already trickling down his temple.
Run.
I take off down the hill, my boots slipping on the uneven ground. The incline is steep, and I nearly fall twice, but adrenaline propels me forward. My legs burn, my breath comes in ragged gasps, but I can’t stop. Not until I’m—
A hand grabs me from behind, yanking me back so hard that my breath catches, and I almost choke. The force is brutal, like a trap snapping shut, cutting off any chance of escape before I even realize what’s happening. My scream dies in my throat as the man’s hand clamps over my mouth, muffling the sound.
I thrash, panic spiking like a shot of adrenaline straight to my heart. My nails dig into his arm, raking down the rough fabric of his jacket, but he doesn’t flinch. The man is silent, his breathing steady, as if dragging struggling women through the woods is just another day for him.
The ground shifts beneath my feet as he pulls me backward, away from the trail, away from Charlie’s distant barks and any hope of being found. No. No. My body fights, twisting and kicking, but the way he grips me—tight, calculated—makes every movement feel useless. My legs kick at the dirt, my boots scraping against the ground, but I can’t get traction.
Think, Hazel. Think.
His arm tightens around my waist, crushing my ribcage. I can feel the heat of his breath near my ear as he grunts, dragging me further into the tree line. My lungs burn, and my vision blurs. I claw at his hand, covering my mouth, nails breaking against his skin, but he barely grunts.
No. I’m not dying here. I’m not dying like this.
I twist violently, throwing my weight to the side, and for a second, his grip loosens. Just a second—but it’s enough for me to slam my elbow back into his gut. He curses under his breath, but instead of letting go, he spins me around and shoves me face-first into a tree.
Pain explodes across my forehead as the bark scrapes my skin. My knees buckle, but I catch myself, pushing off the tree and trying to lunge forward. His hand tangles in my hair, yanking me back. I let out a muffled scream, kicking backward, my boot connecting with his shin. He stumbles, but his grip doesn’t falter.
I bite down on the hand covering my mouth hard enough that the metallic tang of blood hits my tongue. He hisses, yanking his hand back for a split second, and I take the chance to scream.
“Help!” My voice is raw, desperate. “Kieran!”
The man curses again, spinning me around and shoving me to the ground. My back hits the dirt, knocking the wind out of me, and before I can scramble away, he’s on top of me, pinning my wrists to the ground.
I thrash beneath him, twisting and bucking, but his weight presses down like a boulder, crushing me into the earth. I can’t breathe. I can’t think.
“No,” I gasp, my voice cracking. My legs kick wildly, but the man presses his knee into my thigh, pinning me down. His face is shadowed beneath the hood of his jacket, but I can see his eyes—cold, emotionless, like he’s done this before.
I scream again, tears blurring my vision as I twist my wrists, trying to free myself. One hand slips free, and I slam it against the side of his head. He grunts, but instead of loosening his grip, he grabs my wrist and slams it back down into the dirt.
The weight of fear is suffocating. My lungs scream for air as my body fights to survive, but the longer this struggle drags on, the weaker I feel. My muscles burn, my mind races, and somewhere in the haze of panic, I think, This is how it ends.
But then I hear it—footsteps. Heavy, fast, closing in.
Kieran.
A sob of relief chokes me, but it’s cut short as the man’s hand clamps around my throat, squeezing just enough to make me freeze. His gaze flickers to the noise behind him, and that’s when Kieran appears.
He’s bleeding, his face smeared with dirt and blood, but he’s alive. His eyes lock on mine for half a second before they narrow on the man holding me down.
“Let her go,” Kieran growls, his voice low and dangerous.
The man doesn’t have time to respond. Kieran lunges, and everything happens too fast for me to follow. One second, the man’s weight is pressing me into the ground; the next, Kieran is on him, tackling him to the side.
I scramble back, coughing and gasping for air as I watch the fight unfold. Kieran’s fist connects with the man’s jaw, the sound like a crack of thunder. The man grunts, swinging wildly, but Kieran ducks and slams his elbow into the man’s ribs. They hit the ground hard, wrestling in the dirt, each blow more vicious than the last.
My fingers dig into the ground, nails clawing at the earth as I try to pull myself up. My legs tremble, but I can’t take my eyes off them; Charlie’s barks grow closer until he’s beside me, trying to jump up to make sure I’m okay, but I can’t look away from the fight. Kieran’s movements are brutal and precise like he’s been trained for this, but the stranger fights like a cornered animal, desperate and dangerous.
The man grabs a rock, swinging it toward Kieran’s head, but Kieran catches his wrist mid-swing. His other hand moves fast—too fast to see—and suddenly, the man jerks, his body stiffening.
I blink, and then I see it—the knife. The blade is buried deep in the man’s chest, right below his ribcage. Kieran twists it once before yanking it free, and the man collapses, blood pooling beneath him. His body twitches once, then goes still.
Silence.
The only sound is my ragged breathing and the distant rustle of leaves in the wind. My chest heaves as I stare at the body, the reality of what just happened crashing down on me like a tidal wave.
Kieran wipes the blade on the man’s jacket and turns to me. His face is stone cold, but the blood dripping from the cut above his eyebrow tells me he’s barely holding it together.
He places his finger to his lips, telling me to be quiet as he stays kneeling, listening for any movement; the only sound we hear is Charlie barking as he circles me as if sensing the danger of the situation.
It feels like forever we stay like that before he gets up, and he grabs my arm, pulling me to my feet.
I swallow hard, my legs shaking so badly I can barely stand. I want to tell him I’m sorry. I want to explain that I wasn’t trying to die, that I just needed a chance to escape. But the words stick in my throat.
He doesn’t wait for me to speak. His grip tightens, and he starts walking, dragging me back toward the house as if he can’t get me there fast enough. His gaze scanning our surroundings as if he’s waiting for more men to appear.
I glance back once, my gaze lingering on the man lying motionless in the dirt, and a chill runs down my spine. Kieran saved me. But the look on his face—the cold, detached way he killed that man—makes me wonder if he’s the bigger danger after all.