Page 107 of Hunt for You

Font Size:

Page 107 of Hunt for You

She dropped her wine, and tried to turn to look at me, but I caught her too fast.

But as I dragged her off that table and over towards the shadow of the trees, well-outside the cone of light from the streetlights that had flickered on as the sun went down, she didn’tfight.

I growled, tightening my grip around her so she couldn’t budge, until I had her deep in the shadows and no one was going to see us from the road.

If she screamed, there were dozens of houses where they’d hear if they were outside. But the moment I took her, I could tell she wasn’t going to.

Something was wrong.

When I got her under the trees, I leaned her forward, hunching over her, checking the street, listening beyond my own panting to make sure that no one had seen me take her.

But except for a dog barking down the street, and the rush of cars on nearby roads, there was nothing.

“Thank God,” she breathed, bent forward over my arms. “Thank God you came. I was losing my mind.”

My chest tightened at those words. I blinked, uncertain how to respond to that. But she just sagged in my grip so I was taking all of her weight, and sighed like it was a welcome hug.

“Bridget,” I rasped. Except, I didn’t know what I was going to say.

“My friend died,” she said in a very small voice. “And my mom died when I was little. And I think it’s just hitting me and that’s making me want—”

It was instinct, becauseshe couldn’t say those words.I clapped a hand over her mouth and pulled her upright so her feet dangled, but her ear was next to my lips. “Shut. Your fucking. Mouth.”

She tensed and that predator in my chest went on alert.

“Now…run,”I snarled and threw her away from me with such force that her arms pinwheeled and she stumbled when her feet found the ground, falling almost completely to her knees.

But even though she caught her weight and got her feet under her, she didn’t do as I’d instructed and flee.

She just stayed there, crouching like a runner about to start a race, her shoulders rising and falling quickly.

And she didn’t look at me.

“Fucking run, Bridget,” I spat.

“But—”

I stepped forward,furious,and grabbed her hips, throwing her forward again with a snarled curse. “I saidrun.That is the game. That’s why I’m here—that’s whatyouasked for—”

To my relief, when she caught her balance, she looked back once over her shoulder, then took off like a hare, and I was surprised again at how quick she was on her feet. But the rush of the hunt was on me, and as she darted along the line of trees, staying in the shadows, the monster inside me came alive and I took off after her with a stifled roar of joy.

I got lost in the strawberry scent of her, the blood pulsing in my veins, and the delicious sound of her panting breaths tearing through the falling night.

She almost reached the back of the grounds before I caught her—cackling as she sidestepped my swipe, then squeaking when I caught her around the middle and took her to the ground. My shoulder was grateful for the soft-earth and grass, but I would have taken her anyway, even if it was cement.

I curled one arm around her head as we went down, making sure she didn’t get beaned by the force of my tackle, rolling us until we were on the ground and she was hissing like a cat and trying to keep her arm free because I’d only managed to pin one of them to her side in the tackle.

There was an awkward struggle when she planted that hand on the ground and tried to push me back at the same time I reached for that wrist and we struggled.

But then I had her… on her belly with one of my arms around her and my weight pressing her down hard so she couldn’t get her right arm loose. Her other wrist was in my grip and I held it almost at her shoulder so she couldn’t get any leverage with that elbow.

“You’ll never win, Bridget,” I growled as I braced and then rolled us over so I could get to my feet without losing my grip on her.

She struggled again, cursing under her breath as I kept her to my chest and got us up, pulling her right to the back of thatlittle park where a six-foot, solid-wood fence rose behind the trees, offering both darkness, and a place to pin her.

She called me every name under the sun as I carried her, even getting a couple good shots at my shins with her heels, but we both knew her heart wasn’t really in it.

And it was pissing me off.




Top Books !
More Top Books

Treanding Books !
More Treanding Books