Page 101 of I Will Break You

“You have a count of ten to run,” he snarls. “When I catch you, everything that happens next will be with your enthusiastic consent.”

Panic punches me in the stomach, knocking me backward. “Wait. What if I don’t want to run?”

“One,” he growls.

Before he even finishes enunciating the next word, I’m bolting through the graveyard, away from the rectory, away from the only man who might be able to protect me from Xero.

Who am I trying to kid? Reverend Tom might look buff, but a man of the cloth is no match for a crazed killer.

I sprint toward the mausoleums, my feet pounding on the grass. Wind whips past my ears and through the loose strands of my hair. I glance over my shoulder to see if he’s cheating, but hestands with his back to the Grim Reaper memorial, looking like it’s come to life.

Fuck. He’s so majestic. Like a death god sent to earth to reap the wicked. Shivers skitter down my spine and my core floods with sensation. I shouldn’t look too deeply into my body’s reaction. It’s just an inappropriate fear response.

“Two,” he says, his voice as cold as my impending death.

My stomach drops. I pick up my pace, losing all traces of fatigue. I don’t want to be Xero’s chew toy, but there’s a sick part of me that gets excited at the thought of finally getting fucked.

Jake jumps out from behind a tall headstone and stands in my path. He crouches low with his arms spread wide, looking like he wants to scoop me up in his arms. Again.

Screw this.

No figment of my imagination will stop me from earning my forgiveness.

With a scream, I charge at the hallucination, which skitters backward, looking like he doesn’t want to be touched. Fury powers my steps and I barrel forward, daring him to get in my way.

He ducks behind a headstone and vanishes out of sight. If Xero hadn’t just counted three, I would laugh, but I focus on getting away.

The spot I purchased from the cemetery using the fan club’s donations is a five-minute walk from my backyard. I can’t believe I once thought I’d visit his grave every day after the execution, lay flowers on the base of the Grim Reaper, and cry for our love that would endure the ages.

All romantic notions crumble to dust when he bellows, “Four.”

Shit.

I dart between two elegant mausoleums and take the fastest route to the trees bordering my backyard. Mr. Lawson jumps out from behind an onyx tomb and raises his arms the way he did when he plummeted off the edge of the roof garden. I charge through the specter and keep it moving.

Silence stretches across the cemetery, broken only by thepounding of my heart. Blood roars through my ears, urging me to run faster, harder, to keep going even if something ruptures.

My thighs ache. My lungs burn. Sweat pours freely down my brow. There’s no time to wipe my eyes. Not when forgiveness is so close. Not when this mad dog is nipping at my heels, eager to take a bite.

My surroundings fade into blurs of black and white and gray, illuminated by the light of the moon. I lose track of time, of place, of everything but the approach of heavy footsteps.

When the hell did Xero get to ten?

I dart to the left, hoping to lose him in a small path stretching between two mausoleums, but a tall dark figure awaits straight ahead. Alarm grips my throat, making my breath catch. Is that Xero or another hallucination?

He’s too skinny. Not nearly as imposing, and he isn’t wearing a cloak. I sprint toward Sparrow and wait for him to disappear in a puff of smoke.

The tall figure shrinks back behind a tomb as though not wanting me to realize he’s a figment of my imagination. Joke’s on him, because no hallucination can compare with the real threat of Xero.

I burst onto the broad walkway that leads to the copse of trees. Xero’s heavy footsteps have quieted, sounding like he’s taken a wrong turn. Triumph flares in my chest, but I won’t crow with victory until I’m safely behind the kitchen door.

When I run beneath the thick canopy of a eucalyptus tree, my heart soars. Safety is a minute away. Thirty seconds, tops. But then something moves in my periphery.

Up ahead, another tall figure steps out from behind a tree. Another stupid hallucination, trying to get in my way.

Oh, no you don’t.

Lowering my head, I charge forward, not wanting my steps to falter.