Page 35 of Hunt for You

“I’ve seen enough.”

“Are you s-sure?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because,” she gasped, giggling.“You’re going to need it.”

I frowned. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I snarled.

Then she took her hand away to look at me. I was literally breathing down the back of her neck, far too close for clear sight, and I was wearing a silk mesh over my face that obscured my features, but let me see. With my hand on the back of her neck and her temple pressed against the car, she could only look at me from the corner of her eye—those startling, sparkling eyes that were light blue with a jade rim around the outside of the iris. I knew she couldn’t see my face distinctly, but our eyes locked.

“I g-gotchu,” she breathed.

I raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I don’t think that word means what you think it means,” I rumbled.

But she smiled. “I called the cops when I was driving up the block. Told them I suspected I had an intruder in my house.”

She bit her lip as adrenaline flooded my system.

She was lying.

She had to be.

I leaned into her ear, letting my voice drop into the abyss. “Youtryingto piss me off, Bridget?”

“No,” she whispered. “You said I could fight. In fact… you encouraged it.”

Then she lifted her right hand, the one that had been clenched into a fist when she was on the path outside, and something metallic flashed in it.

Instinctively, I shot my free hand out to clamp her wrist and slammed her hand into the car.

She gasped with pain, but even though the little remote tumbled out of her grip, it was too late.

A warm light flickered on overhead and I ducked my face against her shoulder as the garage door creaked, then began to rattle slowly down.

I was still cursing about being in the light when she started squeezing words out of a clenched jaw because I still had her head pinned against the car.

“If you studied my notes on the plans you know all the external doors in this house are combination locks. You w-wont get in or out without the code. You’ve got about twenty seconds before the gap under the big door gets too small for you to fit,” she said through her teeth, because I had her head pressed against the car. “You could break a window, I suppose. But there’s only about a minute before the cops show up. I dialed the number, but didn’t talk after I told them someone was here, and didn’t disconnect the call. Their procedure is to send a unit no more than five minutes after the start of an open call.”

“You’re just trying to—”

“Look at my phone in my pocket.” Then she arched her back a hair, bumping me with her ass. “It’s right there.”

Vixen. I growled a warning to her, but slid a hand between us slowly, I reached into her back pocket to find the phone locked, but there was an active-call notification at the top with the scrolling words…

EMERGENCY CALL

My blood ran cold as I hurriedly hit the end-call button, then pressed her harder against the car.

“Tell me you’re joking, Bridget,” I hissed.

She shook her head, then snorted again and there was an edge of hysteria in it. “Not joking. Just fighting. The best way I know how.”

I stood there, frozen in shock—and admiration—for about three seconds. The garage door was about halfway down, and she wasn’t joking that pretty soon the gap under it would be too small for my frame.

Then the soft glow of car lights appeared, growing closer from somewhere down the street.

Shit.Shit.