Chapter Three

Haelyn froze.

Two men stood in the living room. Both were dressed in dark clothes. One held a phone to his ear, while the other was already walking toward her with slow, calm steps. There was nothing rushed about the way he moved. That somehow made it worse.

“That’s her,” the man on the phone said. “We’ve got her.”

Haelyn’s heart slammed against her ribs so hard it hurt. Her mouth went dry.

“Who the hell are you?” she demanded, forcing her voice to stay steady. “Get away from me!”

The man closest to her didn’t answer. He didn’t even change expression. He just reached out and grabbed her arm. His grip was hard, fingers digging into her skin like iron.

“Let go!” she shouted, trying to yank herself free.

He didn’t loosen his hold. Instead, he dragged her forward with a rough pull. Haelyn stumbled and almost fell to her knees. Panic washed over her in a hot, dizzying wave. Without thinking, she swung her free hand and slapped him across the face with everything she had.

The sharp sound echoed through the room.

The man barely reacted. His jaw tightened slightly, and then he twisted her arm behind her back so violently that a scream tore from her throat. Pain shot up her shoulder like fire.

“Stop moving,” he said coldly. “You’re only making it worse.”

“Shh,” he hissed against her ear, his breath hot and unpleasant. “The more you scream, the more this is going to hurt.”

“Get off me!”

She kicked backward as hard as she could, her heel slamming into his shin. He grunted and his grip loosened for half a second. That was all she needed. Haelyn ripped her arm free and shoved him with both hands. He crashed into a wooden table. A lamp toppled over and shattered across the floor, pieces of glass scattering everywhere.

The second man moved fast.

“Grab her. Don’t let her scream again.”

Haelyn turned and ran.

She didn’t make it far.

A hand fisted into the back of her dress and yanked her backward so hard the fabric ripped with a loud tearing sound. She screamed as her body was pulled against a solid chest. A thick arm locked around her neck, tight enough to make breathing difficult. Pressure built in her head almost immediately.

“Stop fighting,” the man growled in her ear. “You’re not leaving this house.”

Haelyn clawed at his arm, her nails digging into his skin as hard as she could. She threw her head back and felt it connect with his face. He cursed loudly and his grip slipped just enough for her to drop to the floor. She scrambled away on her hands and knees, glass from the broken lamp cutting into her palms.

She crawled into the kitchen, heart hammering so violently she could hear it in her ears. Her eyes locked onto the back door. She lunged for it and yanked the handle.

Locked.

“No, no, no—”

She pulled harder, both hands wrapped around the handle, shaking it desperately. Her breathing was coming in short, panicked gasps.

Heavy footsteps came after her.

One of the men grabbed a fistful of her hair and slammed her sideways into the fridge. The impact sent a shock of pain through her shoulder and head. For a second, her vision flashed white. Before she could recover, he spun her around and pinned her against the counter by the throat. His hand was large and unforgiving, fingers pressing into the sides of her neck.

His eyes were empty.

“You’re making this harder than it needs to be,” he said quietly. “We were told to bring you in alive… but accidents happen.”

Haelyn’s vision started to blur at the edges. Her lungs burned for air. She reached blindly behind her, fingers searching desperately across the counter. They brushed against something cold and metallic.

A frying pan.

She grabbed it with every bit of strength she had left and swung.

The pan smashed into the side of his head with a heavy, sickening clang. The man staggered sideways, blood already running down his temple. His grip loosened. Haelyn shoved him away with both hands and turned back to the door. She kicked it once. Twice. On the third kick, the weak lock finally broke and the door flew open with a crack.

She almost fell outside but caught herself and ran.

Her heels sank into the soft ground almost immediately, slowing her down. She kicked them off mid-stride and kept going. Bare feet hit dirt, stones, and sharp twigs. Pain shot up her legs with every step, but she didn’t stop. Behind her, she could hear shouting and heavy footsteps crashing through the yard.

“She’s running!”

“Cut her off!”

Haelyn sprinted toward the trees. Branches whipped against her arms and face, slicing thin lines into her skin. Her lungs burned like they were on fire. Each breath felt sharper than the last. She had never run like this in her life. Her body wasn’t used to it. Her legs already felt heavy, but pure fear kept pushing her forward.

She didn’t know how long she ran.

Time blurred.

Every time she thought she heard someone behind her, a new burst of panic gave her a little more strength. Her feet were raw now. She could feel blood between her toes. Her side cramped painfully, forcing her to press a hand against it while she ran.

The trees finally started to thin.

Suddenly the ground beneath her changed. Dirt and roots gave way to softer sand mixed with dry grass. The air smelled different — saltier.

A beach.

Haelyn staggered into the open, her vision swimming. Her legs were shaking so badly she could barely control them. Her knees buckled. She hit the sand hard, the impact knocking what little breath she had left out of her. She tried to crawl forward, fingers digging into the sand, but her arms trembled and gave out.

She collapsed completely.

Her body was trembling from exhaustion and fear. Blood and dirt covered her feet, hands, and arms. Her dress was torn and hanging loosely off one shoulder. Her throat still ached from where the man had choked her.

She lifted her head just enough to see a tall figure standing further up the beach, staring in her direction.

For a second, hope flared in her chest.

Her lips parted.

“…help—”

Before she could get the word out fully, a hand suddenly fisted into her hair from behind and yanked her head back hard.

One of the men had caught up.

He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear, voice low and final.

“You should’ve just stayed in the house.”