Ava’s POV

The forest closed in around me, the branches overhead weaving into a dense canopy that blotted out the moonlight. My chest burned as I pushed forward, each step carrying me deeper into the dark, unfamiliar terrain.

The faint sounds of the struggle behind me faded with every frantic heartbeat, but my mind refused to let go of the image of Joe standing there, ready to face them alone.

I had to keep moving. I couldn’t let his sacrifice be in vain.

The forest floor was uneven, littered with roots and rocks that threatened to trip me with every step. My breath came in shallow gasps, my lungs struggling to keep pace with my fear. I glanced over my shoulder, half-expecting to see those masked men closing in, but the shadows were empty.

For now.

Don’t stop. Don’t think. Just run.

The words repeated in my head like a mantra, drowning out the memories that clawed at the edges of my consciousness. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the image of that man—the one I’d seen by the car, his eyes glinting with cold recognition.

I stumbled over a root and fell hard, the impact jarring my knees and palms. Pain flared, sharp and immediate, but I bit back a cry. I couldn’t afford to make a sound.

Pushing myself up, I froze as a rustling noise reached my ears. My heart leapt into my throat.

They’ve found me.

I pressed myself against a tree, my body trembling as I strained to listen. The noise grew louder—footsteps crunching through the underbrush, deliberate and unhurried.

They weren’t running.

Whoever it was, they knew I couldn’t get far.

My fingers dug into the rough bark as I fought to steady my breathing. I needed a plan, but my mind was a chaotic mess, torn between the urge to run and the fear of being heard.

The footsteps stopped.

The silence was deafening, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze. My pulse thundered in my ears as I waited, every muscle in my body coiled like a spring.

Then, a voice. Low, calm, and chillingly familiar.

“I know you’re out here, little miss.”

My blood ran cold. It was him. The voice that threatened me over the phone months back.

The man who had sent me pictures of Holly, tied up to a chair. That same chilling menacing voice that threatened to make me bleed, that told me he was watching my every move.

“Come on now,” he called, his tone almost conversational. “You’ve always been clever, but we both know how this ends.”

My throat tightened, and I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle a gasp. How did he know where to find me? How long had he been watching me?

Panic threatened to overwhelm me, but I forced myself to think. He didn’t know exactly where I was. If I could stay quiet, if I could keep moving...

A twig snapped to my right, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. My eyes darted toward the sound, but I saw nothing.

“I’m giving you a chance,” the man continued, his voice growing closer. “Make this easy for yourself. For your friend back there.”

Joe.

I squeezed my eyes shut, my nails biting into my palms as guilt twisted in my chest. Joe had put himself in danger for me, and now this man was using him as leverage.

I had to do something.

Steeling myself, I crouched low and began to move, keeping to the shadows as I crept away from the sound of his voice. Each step felt agonizingly slow, every rustle of leaves underfoot like a pin drop in the stillness.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as I weaved through the trees, my senses on high alert. The man’s voice faded into the distance, but I didn’t let myself relax. I knew better than to think I was safe.

As I reached the edge of a small clearing, I paused, my ears straining for any sign of pursuit. The silence was consuming, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched.

Suddenly, a shadow moved at the edge of my vision.

I spun around, my heart leaping into my throat. But before I could react, a hand clamped over my mouth, muffling my scream.

“Shh,” a voice whispered in my ear.

It wasn’t him.

I turned my head just enough to see a man I didn’t recognize—lean, dressed in dark clothing, with sharp features and eyes that darted nervously around the clearing.

“I’m not with them,” he said quickly, his grip on me loosening. “But we don’t have much time. They’re closing in.”

I didn’t trust him, but I didn’t have many options.

“Who are you?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“A friend,” he replied, though his tone didn’t inspire confidence. “I’ve been watching them. I know what they’re after.”

“What do you mean?” I demanded, my fear giving way to anger. “Why are they after me?”

“Not here,” he said, his eyes flicking toward the trees. “We need to move.”

Before I could argue, he grabbed my arm and pulled me deeper into the forest. I stumbled after him, my mind racing with questions.

Who was he? How did he know about them? And most importantly, could I trust him?

We ran in silence, the forest closing in around us like a labyrinth. My legs ached, my lungs burned, but I didn’t dare slow down.

After what felt like an eternity, we emerged onto a narrow dirt road. A beat-up truck was parked a few yards away, its engine idling softly.

“Get in,” the man said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I hesitated, my instincts screaming at me to run in the opposite direction. But before I could decide, a distant shout echoed through the trees.

They were coming.

Without another word, I climbed into the truck. The man slid into the driver’s seat and slammed the door, throwing the truck into gear.

As we sped away, I glanced out the window, my heart still racing. The forest blurred into darkness, but the memory of those cold, calculating eyes remained burned into my mind.

“Who are they? How do you know them?” I asked again, my voice shaking.

The man’s grip tightened on the wheel.

“They’re part of a dangerous gang,” he said grimly. “And they don’t stop until they get what they want.”