Jack’s lips parted in a curse. My chest tightened and the world pitched sideways. His fingers clenched around my arm, but I barely felt the pressure, as if he was holding me through a down-filled parka.

I saw his lips move, but heard only the pound of blood in my ears. I saw myself running, running through a forest, heart pounding so hard I thought it would burst, pain lashing through me. Running for help. Helpless myself. Couldn’t stop him. Couldn’t—

I ricocheted back so fast I gasped. The fog cleared, and something else took its place—something so hard and so dark that I dipped into darkness again, blinded. But not by shock, but by rage.

This wasn’t over. He’d succeeded, but he hadn’t won, hadn’t escaped. I wasn’t thirteen and I wasn’t helpless.

I spun to face Jack. As I did, a voice in my head screamed for me to be more careful. Don’t let him see how angry I was. Don’t give him any reason to suspect I wasn’t in perfect control, the consummate professional.

“Can I—Can I get a drink?” I whispered, gaze down. “Some water?”

He steered me to the bar. They’d closed, but the bartender took one look at me and handed Jack a glass of ice water. We stepped off to the side and I gulped it, feeling the shock of the cold hit, reviving me.

“S—sorry,” I said. “Just—Warm. It got warm.”

I gulped the rest of the water, filling my mouth with ice, closing my eyes and biting down on it. Yet it did no good. My blood ran so hot sweat broke out along my hairline, stinging as it dripped into my eye.

I had to find him. Make him pay. He thought this was a game? I’d show him a game. I’d track him down and I’d catch him, and then I’d wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze the life from him. And I wouldn’t turn away. I’d watch him die, and I’d savor every moment.

Jack cleared his throat and my gut went cold as I realized he was standing right there, watching as I’d let the mask crumble. I rubbed my hands over my face, mumbling about the heat. He didn’t say a word and when I looked up, met his gaze, his expression didn’t change.

As I swallowed, Jack’s gaze moved away to track a middle-aged man hurrying for the doors. The man hailed friends standing outside, waving them in from their cigarette break, and Jack relaxed, nodding slightly. I realized that’s what he’d been doing, not watching me, but looking for the killer. Too preoccupied to notice me. Better things on his mind. More important things.

The buzzer sounded.