Run Bad Boy Run

Chapter 20

Slowly turning, I come face-to-face with two sandy-haired boys crouched right in front of me. Those boys, I realize, are Camo Man Numbers 2 and 3.

Shit.

"What are you doing out here by yourself?" Camo Man Number 2 wonders with a tilt of his thick chin, his voice melodic as though he's speaking to a small child.

Taking a step back, I don't say a word, and opt to scoot closer to the nearest point of escape. That point of escape, however, turns out to be a gap in the railings wrapped around the decaying porch and, on the other side of that railing, is a fifty-foot drop into a roaring body of moving water.

The young men exchange disgusting smirks, and move towards me, backing me into the creaky wall of the old abandoned cabin. They've got me cornered.

"You're pretty," Camo Man 2 hums with a lopsided smile, leaning closer so that I can see my own fearful reflection in his dark blue eyes. "I'm Keith and this," he nods in the direction of his look-alike, "is Andy."

I feel the sharp pain of splintered wood pressed firmly into my back and gasp, causing Andy to laugh a wily laugh that would have a hyena cringing.

I need to get out of here now.

Either I take a dive off of the side of the house and hope I don't die from falling into the water, or I die by the hands of these meatheads.

"You don't have anywhere to go." Andy chuckles and looks over at Keith. "Looks like you're coming with us."

Before I can think of a way to get away from them, Keith grabs my shoulders and yanks me into his chest. He brings his face close enough to mine to where I can smell the tobacco he's chewing.

"Get away from me!" I growl, struggling against his hold, trying my hardest to hurt him in any way I can.

"So she can talk!" Keith barks another laugh. "I suggest you listen and don't try to wriggle your way out."

Or what? I want to ask. But I don't—I have no desire to learn the answer to that question even if the little voice in the back of my head wants to sass them into the next life. So instead, I yank off his hold again and land a kick against his shin. "Let go of me!"

Spitting a curse, Camo boy whirls me around and pushes me through the open doorway, and my resistance causes me to stumble and almost fall on my face. Loud chatter from inside the rotten cabin shoots acid into the top of my throat. I count five distinct voices. All of them deep and gravelly and distinctly male. Each one is more terrifying than the previous. "We've got ourselves a secret agent spy, Derek!" Keith announces.

Derek.

I know for a fact that I'm going to be sick.

When Derek's obsidian eyes meet mine, I feel like I might die, and it takes my stubborn will to keep my legs from going out. It's hard, though. The glare he gives me is a physical blow to my chest, causing me to take a step back, and the instinct of flight takes over, worsening the panicked tremble that wracks my body.

But I'm a caged bird.

There's nowhere to go.

"I'm not surprised to see you here," Derek starts in a deadly calm voice. I've watched too many action movies to know that either he's going to 1) kill me or 2) kill me. "You just don't know when to stop, do you?"

I'm just about to protest that it's not like I went out of my way to get into this much trouble, but the voice in my head argues, yes you did, you idiot. You didn't have to follow Cross here, and I clamp my mouth shut.