Page 163 of Hunt for You

Which was when I slammed one heel down right on the arch of his foot and threw my head back to try and break his nose.

He cursed—and so did I, because he’d worn the fucking mask—but his hold on me loosened enough that I could slip free.

At least, I started to.

Fucking Cain and his fucking cat-like reflexes. He recovered fast from the shock, his hand snapping out to clamp on my forearm so I was jerked back to face him as I tried to run.

And suddenly, we were dancing.

The only hold he had on me was that forearm. His fingers dug into my flesh painfully. I’d be bruised if I lived through this.

I tried to dart past him, to bend his arm at a weird angle and break his grip.

But Cain just gave a low, delighted chuckle, side stepped, and I was slingshotted to the forest floor as he used his superior weight to counterbalance and throw me down.

I tumbled, eating dirt, rolling, but clawing into the soft layer of rotting leaves and damp earth, pulling myself back to my feet, and running.

I aimed for the only clear path through the trees I could see—the silver light from the moon lighting up a gap that I thought was probably my clearing. If I could get there first, I could—

“Oh no youdon’t—”

It was like being tackled by a freight train.

My head snapped back at the same moment the oxygen whooshed out of my lungs.

I hung in the air for a moment, sucking in a fresh lungful for a scream.

But then I hit the ground so hard my teeth clacked, and it felt like a horse landed on top of me, flattening my body, so I was suddenly grateful for hollow earth under tree roots, and that cushion of leaves and pine needles.

Yet, once again, he’d pinned me to the ground. The most difficult position from which to fight, and the one from which I’d always struggled to grapple.

I planted both hands on the ground and tried to heave, but Cain just chuckled breathlessly, grabbing for one of my hands, trying to pry it around and behind my back—but his grip slipped and I saw my chance.

My elbow was bent up already. When his grip slipped, his balance shifted, and he leaned down for a split second.

I snapped that elbow back, right into his face and when he jerked away, I rolled him, scrambling to my feet. But I’d forgotten the fucking mask!

I hadn’t actually hurt him, just made him flinch. So, even though I got my feet under me, they slid right back out when heroared and launched himself, grabbing for my legs and taking me to the ground again.

I screeched like a cat, clawing for him because he’d flipped me to my back this time. He crawled up and over me, growling, muttering, clawing his way up my body and grabbing for my hands.

We wrestled.

Teeth gritted, nails out, I fought. Struggled. My heart pounded in my skull so hard it hurt. Like my brain was expanding. I saw stars and barely registered over the thrumming in my ears that Cain was snarling.

“Bridget—fuck!”

“Coward!” I spat through my teeth as he got both hands gripping my wrists and pulled my hands high over my head, which immobilized my body because I had no leverage. “Couldn’t even let me see your facenow?!”

“Listen to me—”

“Couldn’t risk yourself at all—you fucking pussy! I gave everything up for you! I was willing to fuckinglivefor you—”

“What? But—”

“—and you can’t even show your fucking face!”

“Bridget—” he snarled through his teeth, pulling himself up to straddle me, using his weight to keep my hips pinned to the ground, making my efforts to push up and away, futile. My heels scrabbled in the dirt, finding no purchase. And he leaned over me, shifting both my wrists to one of his hands, locking both of them in his strong fingers and pinning them over my head.“Bridget, stop fucking fighting for one second before I hurt you!”