He wasn’t trying to hide. That much was obvious.
I sagged in relief, standing. But I paused, one foot raised to step out from cover, as the massive man tensed, sniffing the air.
Uh… what?
He was muscular and in shape. Being five ten, I didn’t always notice a person’s height, but he was other-level big. The guy continued sniffing, only the tip of his nose visible through the shadows shrouding his face. Hay fever aside, he would take me in a fight no problem—there wasn’t a Girl Guide badge for kicking ass when I attended.
Maybe I should wait until a larger group arrived.
Flannel Man stepped forward, and I jerked behind the tree, covering my mouth again. Or was hiding weird?
I should just say something. It was laser tag for fuck’s sake.
Where was he now?
I eased forward again to steal another peek. I squinted. He’d moved. Jesus, the bastard was crazy quiet.
The hairs on the back of my neck rose.
Whirling, I screamed as a huge hand encircled my throat.
“I’m—” My words cut off in a pathetic wheeze at the painful grip.
“Too easy, little bird,” he growled in my ear.
He yanked on a vine near my head. The ground underfoot gave way, and I clawed for a hold on him, screaming as I fell.
The bottom arrived rudely, and my knees bounced up to clip my chin. The shock of landing reverberated through my feet, and crying out, I sprawled against the dirt wall of the… of the pit.
Fuck. Fuck.
My hands shook.
He’d put me in a hole. It was a trap.
“What are you doing?” I gasped through the pain in my legs.
Moonlight gleamed off his jaw, but the rest of his face was cast in shadow. I rubbed dirt from my mask, squinting up through the dirt-streaked lenses.
He inhaled, sniffing again before freezing. A high-pitched whine left him.
I pressed myself against the wall of the pit. There was something wrong with this guy.
Seriously wrong.
He sniffed again, and a lengthy curse slipped from between his gleaming teeth.
Nuh-uh, he didn’t get to sound confused, shocked, and psychotic. That was my role.
Cheeks flushing, I opened my mouth.
“Reach for my hand,” he ordered, the tone harsh and clipped.
My mouth bobbed.
Was he fucking serious?
“No way, you’re insane!” I snapped. “My family knows where I am, by the way. You better hope you’re gone by the time they find me. They’ll bury you.”
Another whine slipping from him. He was actually whining—like a dog.
“Please, I’m not going to hurt you. I’d never hurt you,” he rasped.
My hands shook. Okay, I was beyond freaked out. Violent to pleading to fervent in the space of a minute.
This guy was unsafe.
He’d put me in a hole. In the ground. My chest tightened, and I splayed my hands against the dirt wall. “What are you going to do to me?”
He boomed in a gravelled voice. “Take my hand.”
Maybe I should take him up on that. My chances of escape were better out of the pit.
I stepped into the middle, glaring upward. Not that he’d be able to see it through my bug mask.
His breath hitched.
I wanted to see his face. I wanted to know what the bastard looked like before he got on with whatever he planned for me. The moonlight had disappeared behind a cloud—or maybe the over-sized imbecile was blocking it himself. I reached to remove my mask.
Shouts echoed from close by.
“Help,” I screamed. “Help me!”
“Fuck.” The man kicked something over the top of the hole and pitched me in complete and utter darkness.
3
“Please help me,” I shrieked.
My phone. My phone.
I turned the torch on, spinning in the tight confines. My breath rattled with my desperate inhales.
I screamed again. Surely, the group could hear my screams. “I need help! I’m trapped down here!”
Maybe I could carve some foothold in the dirt to climb out. I scoured the ground for a stone. That failing, I gouged at the wall with my fingers, digging out an indent.
One.
I yelled for help again, gasping pants echoing in the small space. I clawed out another hold. And a third.
Taking my fake Converse off, followed by my socks, I shoved my foot into the first hold, reaching for the highest indent. I placed my phone between my teeth and pressed myself flat against the side. Grunting, I probed with my toes for the second foothold.
Got it.
The pit wasn’t that deep.
Two more holds should do it. I stretched up to carve another foothold, face down to avoid the falling dirt, then moved higher. Gripping tight, I pulled myself up.
“You aren’t taking me down, you fucker,” I puffed.
Clinging to the wall, I dug out the last hold and then used one hand to push against the lid.
It didn’t budge.
Not even a whisper.
But he kicked it in place like the top weighed nothing. Did he put a rock on top?
I shoved with all my strength.
This wasn’t happening.
“Help me! Please,” I spluttered as dirt and leaves showered me.
My grip on the wall disappeared. I squealed, falling to sprawl on the bottom of the pit again.
A fresh shower of dirt and pine needles rained down on me as the lid was lifted.
Coughing, I squinted through the glaring moonlight.
“Steward?”
This voice was different. I sat, voice shaking. “Please get me out of here.”
“Why was the lid on?” someone asked.
I shrieked. “Get me the fuck out of here!”
“Oh, it’s Rhona.”
There were sniggers. Multiple people were here. And they knew Rhona.
I sagged.
A rope ladder thudded against the wall. I snatched for it, taking a rung in an iron grip. Heaving myself up, I nearly burst into tears after crawling onto the forest floor.
I stared at the small group. “My name isn’t Rhona. It’s Andie. A man trapped me in that hole. He kicked the lid over the top. I couldn’t get out. I didn’t think anyone would find me.” The pitch of my voice catapulted into hysterical territory, and finally, the group seemed to take me seriously.
A man boomed, “You’re not a steward?”
“No,” I snapped, struggling to confine my temper.
“How did she get in?”
The group exchanged a long glance, and a woman approached.
“You’re not from Deception Valley?” she asked.
I held up both hands. “If someone can please show me the way back to the manor, I’ll leave straightaway.”
And never come back. This whole thing had turned into a nightmare.
I sat in a chair, filthy and seething. A steaming mug of tea sat before me that I hadn’t touched out of sheer stubbornness.
“Do you want a blanket?”
Jerking, I glanced up at Eleanor, the woman who’d brought me here. She walked way too quietly. She shrugged at my glare and retreated with the blanket as silently as she’d arrived.
I crossed my arms, scanning my surroundings. The manor was all polished wood and studded, leather furniture. In another situation, the stateliness might have intimidated. This office room was all Beauty and the Beast with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves—and a ladder I’d love to perch on while singing Disney songs.