72 Hours Page 4

  “Clearly you don’t watch the news.”

  I clutch my hair. Vomit rises in my throat, and I drop to my knees and throw up. There is barely anything in my stomach, but whatever is there comes rushing back out. I feel like a tight fist is clutching my heart, and I can hardly breathe.

  “This can’t be happening.”

  “I wish for the same, but it is, and as far as I know, this freak is very serious.”

  I look up at him, tears running down my face. “We’re in the hands of a serial killer?”

  “Wouldn’t call him that, though I can’t be sure he’s never done this before. Still, from the sounds of it, he’s been planning this awhile and he’s been watching us. This man isn’t a serial killer, he’s a fucking psycho.”

  I gag.

  “All we have is seventy-two hours before this psycho fuck comes after us, so we need to move. If it’s a joke, we still need to move. Either way, in a few days it’ll be all over or our nightmare will have just begun.”

  I shake my head so fast my teeth chatter together. “No, I’m not moving. I’m not.”

  If we move, we could end up anywhere. We should be staying where we are—we’re more likely to be found. Isn’t that how this works?

  “We should stay here,” I continue. “Where we can be found.”

  Noah growls low in his chest and takes a step toward me. “Trust me, we’re not getting found. I’m not waiting around to die and I’m not going to leave you. Either you move or I’ll make you.”

  “Why us?” I scream.

  “This is exactly why.” He waves a hand around angrily. “Look at us. We are a broken mess. Now stand.”

  I shake my head.

  “Fuckin’ stand!” he barks.

  I flinch and tears roll down my cheeks. I don’t want to stand. I want it all to go away. I want to close my eyes and just make it go away.

  “Goddammit, Lara. That sick fuck will be sitting there enjoying every second of this.”

  “He can see us?” I cry, eyes frantically darting around the forest.

  God, is he really watching us? How? I don’t understand? My heart pounds as I study the trees, the sky, hell, even the birds. My heart feels like it’s going to leap from my throat as my eyes take in our surroundings. How would anyone set something like this up? Why would they even want to? How long would it have taken him to create such horror? No. No.

  “If he’s been planning this for as long as he says he has, and is so sure we can’t escape, then you’re damned right he can see us.”

  “How?”

  Noah studies the trees. “Haven’t figured that out, but I’m going to because I don’t feel like dying. Now get up.”

  I nod and push to my feet, tossing my heels, because he’s right, I can’t sit in the same spot and risk doing nothing. What help I’ll be to him in the state I’m in, I don’t know, but if there is a chance we can get out, I’m taking it.

  Noah takes my arm roughly and pulls me through the trees. He’s angry at me. That’s not going to help anything, but arguing with him right now is only going to make things worse and at the moment, I need him here with me.

  So long as he’s with me it’ll all be okay.

  Please don’t leave me.

  It’s working exactly how I wanted it to.

  He’s so angry at her. She’s showing the fragile, broken side I’ve been counting on her showing.

  But he’ll protect her. It’s in his nature to at least try. And that’s how I’ll break him down.

  It’s how I’ll make my game satisfying.

  I laugh hysterically. My game. Finally coming to life.

  I never thought I’d see the day. I’ve worked so long and so hard. And these two are the perfect couple, like they were thrust into my hands, like the earth planted them in the right place at the right time just for me.

  They say everything happens for a reason, right? Too bad reason is a person, just like me. Imagine that—the world isn’t as pretty as people think!

  Otherwise these two wouldn’t be here, looking like scared, lost little puppies.

  Oh yes, my game is going to be incredible.

  And the best part is, I can change the rules whenever I want.

  Oh, they’re in for a treat.

  SIX

  We walk for what seems like miles and miles, yet we don’t seem to be going anywhere. I swear I keep seeing the same trees over and over. I’ve sobbed myself dry. Fear is now sitting in my chest, refusing to leave, crossing its happy little legs and singing an annoying song that’ll taunt me for every single second we’re here.

  It still doesn’t feel real.

  They say when something so absurd, so unrealistic happens, it’s human nature to wonder if it’s real. It’s in our nature to question it, to come up with a thousand different scenarios as to why it happens, because the cold hard reality just can’t be real. I feel like that right now. Even as the hours pass and nobody comes out and tells us it’s just a joke, even as we walk and walk, tired and sore, even as the day rolls on and night prepares to fall. It just doesn’t seem real.

  Like there must be some other logical explanation.

  I read, a lot. I’ve read about serial killers, I’ve read good thrillers and romantic suspense, but that’s all it is … fiction. It’s created to entertain an active mind. It’s no more than a creative author putting words onto paper. Those things don’t actually happen. I know the world is a vile and hideous place at times, but this … no.

  * * *

  “You need to keep up, Lara,” Noah barks, jerking me from my thoughts.

  “I’m doing the best I can,” I say, my voice tired. “We’ve been walking most of the day.”

  He spins around to face me, arms crossing over his big chest. “Would you rather we sit and wait to be killed?”

  My bottom lip trembles. “Don’t, Noah. I’m scared, too.”

  “There is only one way out of this mess, and it’s to find a way ourselves. This man is clever, but no plan is without flaws.”

  “Well, wherever we are, we can safely say no one is around.”

  “Wrong,” Noah says, shoving a thick branch out of the way and letting me past. “This man has to be close enough to be able to hunt, to carry out whatever sick game he’s come up with, which means there has to be a way in and out.”

  I scoff. “Isn’t that what we’ve been looking for this whole time? A way out?”

  He glares at me.

  I look down at my feet, now void of shoes because nobody can walk through a forest in heels.

  He leans in close. “Listen, Lara, I might not read a thousand fucking books but I’m not stupid, either.”

  “I never said you were,” I say softly.

  He steps back, spinning around and stalking forward again. “I’m going to figure this out, but considering we’ve already wasted a day, time is of the essence.”

  “If we walk until we’re exhausted, we’ll never be able to come up against whatever plans this man has for us,” I offer carefully.

  He stops, rubbing the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. “I know that, but he isn’t stupid. I’ve seen a few coconut trees around, and a stream, which means he’s made sure we can find food and water. He doesn’t want us weak—that wouldn’t be any good for his game. The man is smart, he knows eventually we’ll stop and eat, rest and heal ourselves, because we’re not stupid. He’s counting on that.”

  That makes sense, total sense, even if I don’t want to admit it. He wants us strong; he wants us to be a good challenge. That’s why he picked us. He thinks he’s got us pegged, he thinks he knows our ins and outs. Maybe he does. I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.

  Bile rises in my stomach and I stop, pressing a hand against the bark of a thick, rough tree.

  Breathe. In and out.

  “He’s made it easy,” Noah goes on, ignoring me. “But he hasn’t made it entirely untroubled. He’s provided us with water, but we are walking most of the day so we
have to figure out how to take it with us, considering we’ve only passed one small stream. He’s provided us with coconut palms, but they’re high and difficult. Nothing is without strain.”

  I nod, wrapping an arm around my middle, trying to stay calm as bitter reality sets in.

  “I know this isn’t easy, Lara, but you need to get yourself together.”

  Fury takes over and I jerk my head up. “Get myself together?” I scream, shocking even myself. “We’re in a forest with a psycho watching us, waiting to come in and kill us, and you’re telling me to get myself together?”

  “Yeah,” he says, his voice cool and calm. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

  “I don’t want to die like this, Noah!”

  He flinches, then storms over, grabbing my shoulders and jerking me up close. “We’re not going to die. Do you hear me?”

  “You think he hasn’t thought of every escape route? Or every possible scenario? Do you think he would have put us in here if he wasn’t a hundred percent sure that we couldn’t get out? That he could find us and hunt us? Jesus, Noah. Whoever he is, he hasn’t just done this on a whim.”

  “Hey,” Noah growls, shaking me a little. “You might be right, but are you going to sit here and give up or are you going to fight? There might be no chance, but I’m still certain that whoever he is, I can find a way to beat him.”

  “He’s probably got weapons not even you can come up against.”

  “Again,” Noah snaps, “stop with the negativity. If we’re going to die, we’re going to do it fighting to live. Do you understand me?”

  I nod, but I can’t stop the tears from leaking out of my eyes.

  “Lara, you’re upset and scared, which is making you doubt everything. He’s counting on that. I don’t know how you’re going to do it, or where you’re going to find it, but you need to find the strength that I know you have buried deep inside you to stand up and fight with me. If you don’t, we’re doomed before we even begin.”

  “Strength?” I whisper. “I don’t know how.”

  He steps back and waves a hand. “You have to find it, or you’ll die. What’s it going to be? I know you’ve got it in you, we both know that. You need to dig down and find it again, or we won’t walk out of here alive.”

  He’s hit me right where it hurts. He’s talking about the girl I was before Nan. I don’t have it in me to tell him that she’s already dead.

  * * *

  Night falls and with it comes eerie silence and complete darkness that terrify me. Noah finds a small overhanging tree that we sit under. We stopped at a stream and had some water, but neither of us felt energetic enough to climb a tree or figure out how to get the coconuts down. We decided we’d do that in the morning; for now, we’re here and we’re together. Not that we’re talking, but we’re together and that has to count for something … right?

  It’s May in Florida, so the nights are still a bit cool. Not cold enough that we’ll freeze, but on a good, clear day it can get chilly enough at night to need a light coat. Tonight is still partially overcast, so the weather is cool but not cold. I press my back against a tree and rub my hands over my bare arms, wishing I’d worn a sweater out the evening before.

  Noah hasn’t said a word to me in hours and it’s killing me. He told me to be tough, to find my strength, yet he’s refusing to make conversation with me—and when he does speak, it’s only to spit acid at me. How we’re supposed to work together to get ourselves out of this horror is beyond me. I rub the back of my neck where a dull ache has started to form, wondering if it’s from whatever drug we were given.

  I can’t see Noah in the dark, but I know his face must be sore; he hasn’t complained, though, so I’ve chosen not to bring it up. I can feel him next to me, his big, warm body close enough that the heat gently caresses my skin, but not close enough that we’re making any kind of contact. I exhale and run through a million scenarios in my head, like I’ve been doing all day. I try to put myself in the mind of this man, try to figure out what I can about what he’s got planned, but I just can’t seem to piece anything together.

  I can’t remember a damned thing from the night before, and it’s frustrating as hell. Maybe if I could, I’d be able to figure out who put us here.

  “You cold?” Noah asks, finally speaking. His voice is gruff, tired, maybe a little scared.

  He’ll never show it. It’s not in his nature. Noah will fight until his last breath, because that’s the kind of man he is.

  “Not really,” I say, even though my arms are a little chilly.

  “Take my shirt, it’ll keep you warm.”

  “No, you keep it on. It’s not that cold.”

  “Then at least move closer so you can get some of my body heat. We might not be getting along, but the point of the matter is we need to get out of here alive.”

  I don’t argue. I move closer until our shoulders touch. It is a lot warmer.

  “Why do you think he picked us?” I ask softly, tucking my knees up to my chest.

  “Best I can figure is it’s because we don’t get along,” he mutters. “If we already drive each other to the brink of madness, we’re doing exactly what he wants. Playing right into his game.”

  “But why us? Why not another dysfunctional couple?”

  “Wrong place at the wrong time.”

  It can’t be that simple, surely. No, someone who planned something this detailed wouldn’t just pick two randoms. The thought that he’s been watching us, for God knows how long, makes my skin crawl.

  I chew on my lower lip. “I’m sorry, Noah.”

  “For what?”

  “That I’ve handled this so badly, acted so weak and pathetic.”

  Noah doesn’t answer.

  That feels like a punch to the stomach.

  “You’re not pathetic or weak,” he finally says, his voice low and thick. “You’re lost and confused, you don’t know who you are anymore. There’s a difference.”

  I’m not sure it’s a good one. And his words still sting a little, despite his reassurance, because I don’t think he is right. He saw what I went through with Nan. He saw how that affected me. I had to change who I was, because being who I was got people hurt. I’m not lost and confused, I’m just a different person.

  “I’m scared I can’t survive out here,” I say softly.

  It’s not a question, but a statement of fact.

  “So am I,” Noah says, his voice quiet.

  That’s not what I expected him to say. He must be getting tired, I realize. He’s not only contending with an unthinkable situation, but dealing with me, too. Am I going to be the reason we don’t make it out of here alive? Am I going to let Noah down? Myself? What if Noah gets hurt because I’m not able to handle whatever is coming? Maybe they’re all wrong. Maybe I can handle it. Maybe I’ll have no choice.

  “I’m not going to stop fighting,” I say softly. “I know my emotions have been scattered today, but I’m not going to stop fighting.”

  “It isn’t about the fight, Lara. It’s about so much more than that.

  “He’s going to target the weaknesses that are obvious in you. You can fight, that’s a given, but you can’t handle violence anymore, you scare easily, and he’s counting on that. If I’m right, he’s going to target me to weaken and torture you.”

  “I won’t let him,” I say defiantly. “I’ll figure it out, but I won’t let him, Noah.”

  He huffs into the dark. “You can’t change who you are, Lara.”

  I fall silent.

  “You and I both know I can.”

  He has no answer to that.

  “Do you have any idea what we’re going to do?” I ask, changing the subject after a few minutes of silence.

  “I’m still trying to figure it out. I don’t know how it is he’s watching us, but I can guarantee he is.”

  “Do you think he can hear us, too?”

  “Oh, the fucker can hear us. Probably sitting there wanking his dick ri
ght now with joy. Stupid fuck.”

  I swallow. How can someone hear us, see us, and yet we don’t know about it? Every plan we make, everything we talk about, he’s always going to be one step ahead of us.

  “So how do we outsmart someone we can’t get out of our heads?” I question.

  Noah leans in close, so close I shiver. He moves the hair off my neck and whispers so softly I can barely hear it, “Not even the best technology can hear this.”

  I tremble, because his breath on my neck has sparks running down my spine and settling into my core. I close my eyes and swallow, then nod and pull away.

  Neither of us says anything after that.

  Because what is there to say?

  I bring the coffee to my lips, my hands trembling with utter joy as I watch them fall asleep next to each other.

  His body is tense. He knows I can see him and hear him. He just doesn’t know how and it’s killing him.

  He’s that kind of man. He likes control. He likes to know he’s got everything covered, and he can’t figure me out.

  More than that, he’s angry. At me. At himself, but mostly at her. He’s trying not to be, but he is. He’s like a simmering pot, slowly bubbling away until eventually he is going to explode.

  And when they fight, they do exactly what I want.

  He makes her doubt. Makes her feel bad. Makes her self-esteem dip even lower. I don’t need to break her down; he’ll be doing it for me.

  And he’ll know I’m doing it, but he won’t be able to help himself.

  A chuckle escapes my lips. Two more days, my players, and we’ll begin.

  Just two more days.

  SEVEN

  I fall asleep against Noah, head on his shoulder, body semi-warm from his skin. I must be exhausted, or maybe I’m still coming down from the drugs still in my system, but I don’t move all night long.

  I’m woken in the morning by Noah shifting and the sounds of birds chirping high above me. I blink a few times, rubbing my eyes and focusing. We’re still against the tree, but Noah’s arm is around me now, holding me close. We’re still here. This isn’t a dream. A horrible lump forms in my throat and my heart sinks. I try to fight back my tears as realization slams into my body. I don’t know what I thought, but a part of me hoped I’d wake up today and it’d all be over.