Tori
I'm running as fast as I can, slamming my bare feet against the ground. I long since abandoned the heeled leather boots, tossing them in different directions in an attempt to throw Ryder off. This would be the first successful time I escape him, if I actually manage to.
In another lifetime, Ryder Hayes could have been a hunter, tracking the way he does. It's as if he can see my very movements, determine the path I've taken before I've even taken it. I know he watched me when I started running, so I'm using that to my advantage and circling back around. While he's running down, I'll be running back up, climbing on his bike and taking it out of here.
Lets hope you can remember how to ride a bike, Tori.
My feet are being scraped, cut open, by the small twigs, millions of pine need
