Mountain Hideaway. Christy Barritt

was so vast, so wild, so beautiful. But it could also be deadly, especially in the pitch-black. A hunter had died only a few months ago when he’d gotten lost out here. His body had been found downstream a week later.

      Her mind churned as she continued her trek. When she started to maintain a steady pace, her thoughts went from survival to Trent McCabe and that painting she’d found in the cabin. It linked him to the McAllisters.

      Leo was a powerful man. He was capable of extraordinary farces that could fool the wisest of people. He had to have some connection with that cabin. It was too much of a coincidence otherwise.

      How had she been fooled again? The kindness in Trent’s voice was deceitful. He’d sounded so trustworthy. He’d even used a story about her mother. He probably knew how to manipulate. Those were the worst kind of criminals, the ones who gained a person’s trust only to stab them in the back. Sometimes literally.

      She squeezed her eyes shut at the memories.

      Just then, something snapped behind her.

      She froze. What was that? A nighttime creature? A mountain lion? A bear?

      Her pulse spiked again.

      She looked for the reflection of eyes—either human or animal predator—but saw no one. Was something stalking her out there, just waiting for the right moment to pounce?

      Tessa picked up her pace. Slow and steady only worked if a person wasn’t being chased.

      She had a phone in her backpack. But who would she call? Who could she trust to help her?

      No one, she realized. Except her family, and she couldn’t pull them into this.

      As she glanced around, every direction looked the same. Which route led away from her cabin? Which path would keep her safe from the deadly bluffs that dropped hundreds of feet to the river below? One moment of distraction and now she was turned around. She’d lost her sense of direction.

      Panic began to rise in her.

      Another twig snapped in the distance.

      She was definitely being followed.

      By Leo’s men? By Trent—who was also one of Leo’s men, apparently? By an animal?

      None of the options were comforting.

      Despite her earlier mantra of remaining slow, she burst into a run. She had to move, and fast. Every second she lingered could cost her life.

      Branches slapped her in the face, gnarled tree roots reached out to trip her and rocks tried to twist her ankle. She pushed forward, her breathing too shallow for her own good.

      She could feel a presence behind her now, sense that her pursuer was closing in.

      Just then, her foot caught on another root. She started to lunge forward but caught herself on the rough bark of a pine tree.

      She gasped as the prickly wood cut into her skin, as her ankle throbbed.

      Tears tried to push from her eyes—from even deeper than that. They tried to push up from the deepest part of her heart, which felt too battered and bruised for words. She was so tired of living in fear, of constantly looking over her shoulder.

      “Tessa!” someone said.

      She knew that voice.

      Trent.

      Of course he’d been watching her. He’d probably just been waiting for her to run. But why was he drawing this out? Why didn’t he just kill her while he had the chance?

      Unless there were other motivations at play.

      Did he plan to torture her? Find out how much she knew? Whom she might have told? Where she might have hidden any documents she’d kept as proof of what Leo’s family had been doing?

      The thought caused a new surge of panic in her.

      She pushed herself from the tree and hobbled forward. Kept moving. What other choice did she have?

      She tried to keep her eyes on the ground, to watch her steps. But it was so dark out here. There were so many trees and so much underbrush.

      “I won’t let you out of my sight, you know,” the man called.

      She looked behind her again and spotted Trent. He walked toward her, his actions measured and controlled. He wasn’t even panting with exertion as he took long strides her way. Meanwhile, her legs kept pumping as she tried to keep pace.

      Fabulous.

      “Just leave me alone!” she mumbled.

      “I don’t want to hurt you, Tessa.”

      “You can’t prove that.” She stopped trying to run. Even though she’d been jogging every day and trying to build up both her strength and endurance, the upward climb on the mountain was doing a number on her legs and lungs. Her ankles throbbed. Her lungs refused to get enough oxygen to fill them.

      She’d done a lot of things in preparation for a moment just like this—shooting lessons, working out, reading survival guides and forming emergency procedures. All of her planning seemed to disappear into a haze, though.

      Fear and exhaustion did terrible things to people; the emotion robbed them of any security. It didn’t seem as if that long ago she’d been confident and self-reliant and living her dream life. Today she was always looking over her shoulder, questioning every move and second-guessing every decision.

      How had an ordinary girl living an ordinary life somehow turned into this? This wasn’t supposed to happen. She should still be at home with her family. Still working in the art museum. Back then, life had seemed so safe and comfortable. What she wouldn’t give to go back and return to the way it used to be.

      That wasn’t an option, though. She had to keep fighting. She couldn’t let her enemies win.

      Speaking of enemies, Trent was getting closer—close enough to grab her.

      Suddenly, some kind of survival instinct took over. Adrenaline surged in her, giving her a strength she didn’t know she had. She sprinted through the darkness.

      Don’t let him catch you.

      “Being out here isn’t safe, Tessa,” Trent continued. “Let’s talk this out.”

      She rounded a bend of trees and, before she knew what was happening, the ground crumbled beneath her.

      She desperately grabbed the air, trying to find anything possible to grip on to as she slid downward. Failure meant she’d slip to her death, hundreds of feet to the river below.

      It was too late: her life flashed before her eyes.

      * * *

      “Tessa!” Trent saw Tessa disappear, and panic engulfed him. He charged toward her, no longer fearful of jolting her into doing something stupid. She’d already done that.

      He rushed toward the decline and peered down, expecting the worst. His heart slowed, but only temporarily. There she was, hanging on to a tree root, her eyes wide with despair.

      “I’m going to get you up, Tessa. Just hold tight.” He dropped to his stomach, trying to secure himself so he could grab her.

      She moaned, her eyes squeezing shut. “Why don’t you just kill me now? Why are you drawing this out and pretending to be a good guy?”

      He grabbed her wrist. “I am a good guy.”

      “You’ve fooled me once. Not again.” She refused to let go of the root she held on to.

      What was she talking about? This wasn’t really the time to argue. This was the time to get her to safety. “Let me help you. Then you can ask me whatever it is you want.”

      “You work for Leo McAllister.”

      His muscles tightened from the strain of trying to grab her, of trying to make sure her grip didn’t slip and send