Page 56 of Hunted: Season Two

I resume facing forward on a small giggle as Nolan exits the highway.

“With theworstfuckin’ scents.” More grunts of unhappiness are expelled. “Fresh leather air fresheners are so fucking stupid.” He huffs again. “And lazy.” Additional fidgeting is heard. “And an insult to a person’s senses.”

“You love the smell of fresh leather, Kid,” Mutt effortlessly argues.

“Yeah, fromactualleather.”

“Which this car has,” I casually point out.

“But isn’t producing that godawful stench!”

There’s no time to fight back.

“I know the difference!” He squeaks, warranting another look over my shoulder. “Just like I know the difference between owned cars and rental cars. Rental cars have no soul.” Kipp tries to pull on his locked seatbelt. “And this one is no exception just ‘cause ourattorneyrented it for us.” An almost smug smile slips into place. “You know they say lawyers are soulless too.”

Nolan shoots him an unamused glare in the rearview mirror. “Garcia has a fuckin’ soul, Kid. Why else do you think he’d go to lengthsthis extremeto help protect Rabbit?”

“He’s paid to.”

“Not for the strings he’s been pullin’.”

At that, The Kid shifts his head to look out the window and flicks his bright orange sunglasses downward to cover his eyes.

He’s beensuperfucking moody all week.

Now, I don’t know if it’s because he’s on edge about what we may find out at the doctor today or having me “exposed” in unfamiliar territory or perhaps it’s just the fact that Nolan’s back to missing for long stretches of the night for tow work leaving Kipp left to worry that something horrible is going to happen while he’s gone.

It could be any of those things.

It could be none.

It could be one or twoplussomething else.

I have no clue.

For the first time since I moved in,he’sholding back.

I don’t know what.

And I don’t know why.

And I don’t like it.

It’s almost like having a sick puppy that youknowis sick but can’t tell you what’s wrong.

Or in this casewon’t.

Maybe the dark and vile shit we’ve done is simply catching up to him.

Maybe it’s eating him alive.

Maybe he’s starting to regret how far we’ve gone.

How far he’s willing to go.

Maybe he’s regretting his relationship with me.

Us.