Chapter 18
Mia
The weight of Craven’s body suddenly vanished. I gasped, gulping air as I heard the sickening crunch of bone meeting bone behind me. Disoriented, I rolled onto my side to see Connor standing over Craven’s crumpled form, his face twisted with a fury I’d never seen before on anyone.
“Connor?”
My voice was barely a whisper, disbelief mingled with an overwhelming feeling of relief.
His eyes find mine, softening instantly, despite the rage still emanating from him. “I’m here,”
he said, quickly moving to my side, his hands gentle as he helped me sit up. “I’ve got you.”
He quickly shrugged off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders, then wrapped his arms around me, his warmth enveloping my shivering body. The fabric still held his scent, a comforting mixture of pine and something uniquely him that made me feel safer than I had any right to.
“Can you stand?”
he asked, his voice low and steady despite the tension visible in every line of his body.
I nodded, though I wasn’t entirely sure. My legs felt like water, my entire body trembled with the aftermath of terror and adrenaline. He helped me to my feet, keeping one arm firmly around my waist. “We need to go,” he said.
A soft groan from behind us froze us both in place. He pushed me behind him protectively as Craven stirred, blood bubbling from his broken nose as he struggled to regain consciousness.
“Go outside,”
Connor urged as he snagged my pants off the floor. He shoved them into my hands while giving me a gentle push toward the door. “I’ll take care of him.”
I slipped my feet into the pants and pulled them up. “You come with me,”
I pleaded, tugging on his hand. I took two hesitant steps, my body protesting after days of confinement. The cabin door seemed miles away, the promise of freedom just beyond reach. I turned back to make sure he was following, only to see Craven suddenly lurch upward with surprising speed, one hand diving beneath his jacket.
“Connor, look out!”
I screamed.
But it was too late. Craven had already pulled out a gun, aiming it right at him. The metallic click of the hammer being cocked echoed in the small cabin.
“You have no idea what she is, do you?”
he called out, his voice taunting. “What she was sent to do to you and your family.”
Connor looked at me, confusion etched on his face.
Blood trickled from Craven’s chin as he focused his aim. “You clearly can’t handle taking out the Captain of the Irish clan, so I’ll do it myself,”
he sneered at me.
Connor stared at me, shock etched across his face. “Did he just say what I think he did?”
I felt my blood run cold.
“She’s an assassin, you idiot. She was assigned to eliminate the Captain but didn’t succeed.”
“Mia, is that true?”
Before I could reply, a bullet rang out and ricocheted inside the cabin from Craven’s gun, and Connor yelled at me, “Run!!!”
I watched in horror as blood dripped down the side of his face, as he screamed at me again. The last thing I saw before exiting the cabin was Connor turning on him, tackling him to the ground with a primal roar.
My feet wouldn’t move. I stood frozen at the threshold, torn between Connor’s command to flee and my instinct to help him. The two men grappled on the floor, a tangle of limbs and fury, as the gun skittered across the wooden planks.
“Mia, go!”
Connor shouted again, his voice strained as he struggled to pin Craven’s arms.
This time I obeyed, stumbling out the door into the crisp air. The forest surrounding the cabin was dense, shadows stretching between the trees as dusk approached. Freedom beckoned, but my thoughts raced with Craven’s announcement.
How did he know? No one was supposed to know my assignment except for Matheson.
Another shot rang out from inside. I froze, my heart in my throat. The sound of breaking glass followed, then silence. Terrible, deafening silence.
I should run. Disappear into the forest. That was the protocol—survive at all costs. But my feet refused to move.
The cabin door creaked as it was pushed open wide and there stood Craven.
My breath caught in my throat as he staggered across the porch. Blood streaked his face from his shattered nose, and his eyes—cold and predatory—locked onto mine. In his right hand, the gun glinted dully in the fading light.
“Where’s Connor?”
I managed to choke out, scanning the darkness behind him for any sign of movement.
Craven’s lips curled into a grotesque smile. “He won’t be joining us.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. No. It couldn’t be. Connor couldn’t be—
I didn’t allow myself to finish the thought. Instead, I turned and ran.
The forest swallowed me whole as I plunged between the trees, branches clawing at my face and arms. Connor’s jacket flapped around me as I sprinted, my bare feet finding every sharp stone and broken twig on the forest floor. The pain barely registered—my mind was consumed by a single narrative: Survival.
Behind me, I heard Craven crashing through the underbrush, his heavy footfalls gaining ground with alarming speed. He was stronger, better fed, and uninjured. I was running on nothing but terror and adrenaline after days of captivity.
“You can’t outrun me, Mia!”
his voice boomed through the trees. “You know what happens to assets who go rogue!”
I ducked under a low-hanging branch, veering sharply to the right in hopes of throwing him off. The forest floor sloped downward, becoming treacherously slick with pine needles. My feet slid from under me, and I tumbled, rolling painfully down the incline before coming to rest against the trunk of a massive pine.
For a moment, I lay there, winded and disoriented. The world spun around me, dark spots dancing at the edges of my vision. Get up, a voice in my head screamed. Get up or die.
I staggered to my feet, my body protesting every movement. The sound of pursuit had faded, but I knew better than to believe I’d lost him. Craven was a hunter—he knew how to track, how to stalk, how to wait for the perfect moment to strike.
The growing darkness was both a blessing and curse. It provided cover but made navigation nearly impossible. I had no idea which direction led to safety, or if there was any safety to be found in these remote woods.
I pressed on, moving as silently as my trembling body would allow. Every few steps, I paused to listen, straining my ears for any sign of pursuit. The forest was alive with night sounds—the rustle of small creatures, the distant call of an owl, the whisper of wind through the pines.
The trees began to thin, and ahead, I could make out a small clearing with what looked like a fallen oak tree, its massive trunk stretching across the ground like a natural barricade.
I hunkered down behind it, sucking in a lungful of breath, and that’s when I heard it. A twig snapped directly behind me.
I let out a muffled cry as his hands tangled deep into my hair, yanking my head back with savage force. My scalp burned with fiery pain as I was dragged upward, my back pressed against a solid chest.
“Did you really think you could get away from me?”
Craven’s voice hissed in my ear, his breath hot and fetid against my skin. “After all our time together?”
I clawed at his hand, desperately trying to free myself. “Where’s Connor?”
I demanded, my voice breaking with fear and exhaustion.
Craven’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “Your husband? He’s dead. Such a shame—you were only married for what, a day? He didn’t even get to fuck his wife, but I’ll do it for him.”
Something inside me snapped.
I twisted around, my hair ripping out as I did. “You took me on our wedding day!”
With a scream born of desperation and fury, I reached down and crushed his balls in the palm of my hand. “We are married six days you fucker!”
He let out a primal howl of agony as he crumpled to his knees. That’s when I brought my knee up and caught him on the chin. He flew onto his back, clutching his balls. It granted me enough time to bolt towards an embankment. My heart pounded in my chest, and I silently prayed it would lead to a road.
As I frantically clawed my way uphill, the glimmer of headlights began to dance through the trees, confirming my hope. Exhaustion weighed heavily on me, yet I summoned the last of my strength, inhaling deeply before sprinting across the road. The headlights grew larger, cutting through the darkness like beacons barrelling down on me.
I didn’t dare attempt to flag them down. The woods were so isolated that I couldn’t dismiss the possibility that whoever was driving might be pursuing me. Just as I reached the other side, the night was pierced by a loud thud, followed by the ear-piercing screech of tires.
Turning back, I was met with the sight of Craven sprawled across the windshield, groaning in pain with blood smeared across his body. What happened next was so surreal I couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. The driver of the pickup truck, unfazed, flicked on the windshield wipers, as if they were attempting to dislodge him. When that failed, the truck door swung open, and the driver stepped out with a determined stride. Seizing Craven’s leg, he tugged on it until he fell with a heavy thump onto the asphalt.
The driver then turned to me, his expression calm yet chilling.
“Would you like to finish him off, or shall I?” he asked.