Driving rain blinded him as he continued to slog forward. Once foot ahead of the other, one step, two step, one step, two.
He was exhausted, but he couldn't stop. The relentless, tireless, endless pursuit that was always on his heels would never allow it. One day he was going to make a critical error and it would all be over. It wouldn't be a planned capture; it would be a real one.
One foot ahead of the other.
The muscles in his legs screamed in protest and he ignored them. Another step. And another.
He looked back down the grind at the sludge the trail had become and was satisfied that no matter how intense their pursuit, there was no possible way they could catch up with him today.
A smirk played over his lips as he imagined her reaction to his latest ploy to ruin her Prada.
Parker glared at the muddy trail as if it were a curse specifically tailored for her. Knowing ratboy, his choice of escape routes had factored in her footwear. It was the kind of juvenile prank that would amuse him.
God dammit.
He knew her far too well.
With a sigh and a curse, she headed up the trail, flanked by sweepers. There was nothing for it now. But when she caught him, she was of half a mind to skin his highly intelligent ass and make a new pair of boots from his hide.
The thought brought an entirely unpleasant smile to her face.