Page 121 of Unbalanced

My stomach twists.

They turn sharply, but I follow.

Four strides.

Three.

Close enough to hear every breath they drag into their lungs. Close enough to see the way their body moves. Smaller than mine…much smaller. And I quickly catalog it all.

Narrow shoulders.

Slim waist.

Blonde wavy hair tied in a ponytail behind them.

Shit.

A woman. My brain rifles through every possibility, but another thought keeps getting in the way—I’ve seen her run. I know I have.

My hand shoots out, and my fingers catch her arm, but she jerks away before I can get a grip.

“Fuck!”

She darts left onto another narrow trail, and I follow without thinking. Something sharp scratches my neck. I feel the sting before the warmth of blood trickles down, but I don’t care.

Some new emotion builds beneath my ribcage. The rage is still there, but whoever this is has pushed me to my limits, and I’m actually enjoying myself. No one has ever challenged my skills, and with each step my excitement grows.

So close…I can almost touch her. Her boot lands wrong, and she stumbles.

I reach out, and she tries to twist away at the last second, but not before my hand catches her waist, hauling her back against me. I drag her to a halt, and at the last second I turn and slam her smaller body up against a tree.

She fights like a rabid animal, but doesn’t land a single blow. I don’t know if that’s on purpose or if she really doesn’t know how to fight. I have a feeling it’s the first, which only confuses me more.

Grabbing both wrists, I pin them over her head and tear the mask off with a snarl. Soft blue-gray eyes stare back. Eyes that I would know anywhere.

My blood turns to ice.

“Emily?”

It’s really her.

Every thought in my head detonates all at once. I’ve speculated and been suspicious, but now facing the reality…

“No fucking way.”

My grip loosens, and she takes advantage of my shock. In a heartbeat, she slips free and is gone again. She runs a few strides, looks at me, smiles the most wickedly beautiful grin, and then races away.

“EMILY!”

I take off after her and actually fucking laugh because my brain refuses to do anything else. Sweet Emily Walker. The woman who blushes when I compliment her. The woman who trembles and practically melts when I touch her. The woman who has looked me in the eyes while I’ve searched for the person invading my life, and has never shown a fucking thing. She has blindsided me, and that has never happened before.

Flowers. Rob asked her about flowers. The thought hits me so violently I almost stop.

Dahlias.

No. No fucking way. Even after being in her storage unit, I can’t compute that Emily is the serial killer Hiller is after.

“Stop running!”