Held securely by Hunter's deceptively lean but incredibly powerful arms, Stella felt a force she couldn't possibly resist.
She hadn't eaten in two days and was extremely weak.
It had been years since she had been this physically close to a man. The last man she had been truly close with was her father, the legendary safecracker John Bridger.
The man holding her now definitely wasn't Charlie. His voice was different.
He was also taller than Charlie.
Stella hadn't spent much time with Charlie's crew, but she remembered their general builds and heights.
She ran through the list in her mind and quickly concluded:
"Not Charlie. Not one of his guys."
"This guy is about the same height as Steve."
Through his clothes, she could feel the distinct, rock-hard muscles rippling as he moved.
Stella wasn't sure if her racing heart and flushed cheeks were due to her weakened state, the adrenaline of jumping off a cliff, or simply being held so intimately by this stranger.
But her heart was pounding violently.
"Who are you?"
Stella finally asked as they descended.
Held tight against him, she watched as he expertly rebounded off the cliff face, controlling their descent.
Seeing the ground approaching—just a few meters away now—her heart, which had been stuck in her throat, finally began to settle.
Hunter didn't answer. He knew it wasn't time to pop the champagne yet.
Celebrations were for after they were safe.
Boom!
Shouting erupted from the top of the cliff, followed by beams of light sweeping down.
Ignoring the fact that they were still two or three meters off the ground, Hunter unclipped the carabiner connecting them to the rope.
He leaped, landing heavily on the dirt below.
"Ah!"
The sudden drop made Stella cry out.
Hunter, though still repulsed by the smell clinging to her, instinctively shielded her with his body, absorbing the impact so she wouldn't be hurt.
"Careful!"
The moment they hit the ground, Hunter grabbed Stella and sprinted for the cover of a large tree.
Rat-a-tat-tat!
Gunfire erupted from above. A hail of bullets tore through the foliage around them, shredding bark and leaves.
Hunter waited until the firing died down.
Then, he grabbed Stella's hand again. "Not safe yet. Sorry about this."
Before she could react, Hunter's arm swept around her waist.
A sudden sense of weightlessness made her gasp again.
She didn't even have time to protest before she was scooped up once more.
Then, like Superman, he exploded into motion.
Moving with unimaginable speed, he carried her through the dark forest, putting distance between them and the cliff.
Thump-thump-thump!
Stella instinctively wrapped her arms around him. The action pressed her closer, letting her feel the steady, powerful rhythm of his heartbeat.
"Incredible stamina..."
"His physical fitness is off the charts."
Stella was still dazed, unsure how long they had been running.
Finally, she felt her feet touch the ground again.
"Wait here," the man's voice whispered in her ear.
She reached out and leaned her weak body against a tree for support.
Moments later, the roar of an engine approached.
Stella tensed, straightening up.
A motorcycle pulled up beside her.
"Get on!"
It was her savior's voice.
She owed her escape entirely to this man. Although she didn't know who he was, he clearly meant her no harm.
Without hesitation, Stella climbed onto the back seat.
He handed her a helmet.
"Put this on."
"Okay."
Stella took it and quickly strapped it on.
She wrapped her arms around his waist. Immediately, her earlier guess was confirmed.
Through his thin jacket, she could feel the definition of his abs—eight blocks of solid muscle. His lats and back muscles felt carved from stone.
In that moment, an intense curiosity seized her.
She desperately wanted to see the face hidden beneath the tactical mask and now the helmet. Who was this physically perfect man who had saved her life?
"Hold on tight!"
Hunter warned just before the bike surged forward with terrifying acceleration.
Stella was nearly thrown off. She tightened her grip around his waist instantly.
They rode without headlights.
Relying on his enhanced night vision, Hunter navigated the dark mountain trail at breakneck speed.
Soon, they hit the asphalt of the main road.
Only then did Hunter switch on the headlight. Instead of slowing down, he accelerated.
Pushing the bike to over 150 km/h, they tore down the highway for a stretch.
Once he was sure no one was following, Hunter slowed down and turned onto a smaller side road.
After riding for another thirty kilometers or so, he pulled into the parking lot of a secluded motel.
"We're here."
Hunter parked the bike but kept his helmet on.
He turned to Stella, who was still clinging to him, and explained quietly.
"After your escape, Steve will be watching your apartment and your office."
"We'll stay at this motel tonight."
"Tomorrow, I'll take you somewhere safe."
Stella didn't argue. "Okay."
Since being kidnapped yesterday morning, she hadn't eaten a bite. Steve had only given her water.
And the man was a psycho.
She had spent most of the last two days tied to a bed or a chair, forced to watch him eat.
She hadn't even been allowed to use a bathroom properly.
Hunter didn't need to tell her—she knew how bad she smelled.
She desperately needed a safe place.
A hot shower, some food, and a bed. That was all she wanted in the world right now.
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