Page 25 of Hunt for You

I didn’t even hesitate.

Skin-tight jeans. Heels. A low-cut, figure hugging top that showed my shoulders and hung off my boobs and made them look bigger. Then I grabbed my phone and wallet, the one with the long shoulder-strap, and practically ran out of the house.

Because if Cain hadn’t seen my post and wasn’t hunting, Ineededsomething to distract me.

And if he had, and he was coming for me, well… it didn’t matter where I was as long as he could find me.

So that meant going somewhere public. But not easily predicted.

And I knew just the place.

The garage door rattled up and I stood in the glaring light of the automatic light for a minute, wondering if those shadows outside already hid him.

He’d said he knew where I lived.

For a minute I forgot about everything except that somewhere in the dark in this world there was a monster who knew my name, and my address, and my car. He was bigger, stronger, fiercer than me. And even though I was going to fight a lot harder than he thought, I also knew the odds.

Eventually, he would win.

And I experienced the strangest sensation at that thought—half of my heart zipping up into my throat, leaping with joy. The other half plunging to my toes and screaming at me to run.

But I didn’t run. I wouldn’t run.

Not until he was there to chase me.

I swallowed hard, staring into the darkness outside my garage. “Are you there, Cain?” I whispered. But there was no answer.

There was nothing but a neighborhood street and a night stretching in front of me that made me want to slit my wrists.

And I wasn’t going to do that. Ever.

And that conviction put wings on my feet, and a jiggling kind of panic in my chest. I darted to get in the car, firing the engine, and tearing out there, praying Cain was on my heels.

Twenty-five minutes later, deep in the city, I made it to the dive bar owned by Kash, my ex-boyfriend. But I didn’t park in that awful lot across the road where most of his patrons left their two-bit dusty, dented rattletraps until they decided to drunk-drive home. Instead, I sailed past, took the next corner, turned up the narrow alleyway behind the building to the cracked cement and dumpsters where the staff parked.

Kash hated it when I did this, but if I decided to drink I needed the car under the security cameras. And not where some drunk would piss on it.

It would make it harder for Cain to find me, too, if he showed up. If he was hunting he wouldn't want to risk getting caught on camera. So he’d have to get more creative about how he was going to intercept me.

I smiled.

And I hoped.

I fuckingprayedhe showed up tonight.

Then I shook off a new wave of panic, got out of the car, locked it with abloop,and trotted up the handful of steps to the staff entrance at the back.

When I swung that heavy, industrial door open, the glaring light of the service hallway washed over me and made me squint at the same time the thumping bass, which had been little more than a dull thunder outside, became a pounding that vibrated in my ribs.

And as I hurried forward, towards the noise and distraction, I only cast one look over my shoulder towards the shadows near my car outside.

But nothing moved before the door swung close on its hydraulic hinge.

Cain, where are you?

9. Burning Up

~ CAIN ~