Page 8 of Hunt for You
I did as he asked, my heart trilling in my chest.
“Good girl,” he purred and a zing of need like I hadn’t felt for years jolted behind my navel. He leaned closer again and I swallowed hard, inhaling that scent deeply, crystalizing it in my senses, knowing for as long as I lived I’d associate that smell with him.
There was a pause, and the clunk of the car door handle. My stomach dipped, but he didn’t let me go even when he swung the door open and the cool morning air rushed in, taking some of his scent away and replacing it with the smell of warming cement.
He paused again, and I braced, expecting him to run and getting ready to turn and look as quickly as possible, see if Icould catch a glimpse of his face. But he gave a low, disapproving growl like he knew what I was thinking.
“You won’t see my face, Bridget. Ever. When we meet it will be darkness, and I’ll wear a mask. And if it’s the latter and you try to remove it, it will be the last thing you ever do… do you understand?”
I nodded quickly and he paused again, sinking down a hair behind me as if he might be about to leave, but then he froze.
“I almost forgot,” he whispered. “As the hunt progresses it will get… aggressive. I don’t expect you to submit. You can fight, you can resist, you can run—you can try to escape me any way you want. In fact, I encourage it. But our agreement involves no weapons. Everything that happens between us, happens organically. We use our bodies, and anything we find in the vicinity of wherever we meet. If I find you carrying a weapon, you’ll never see me again. And if you bring a weapon against me, it will be the end. Do you agree?”
I swallowed hard and nodded under his hand.
For a moment, he was still and quiet, then his thumb moved to stroke my cheekbone.
“You’re a very beautiful woman, Bridget. What a waste to take you from this world.” Then his other hand snaked around the seat, his fingertips stroking down my throat, then along my collarbone as he audibly inhaled. His hand over my mouth loosened just a hair.
“This is your one and only chance to prove you’ll play by the rules, Bridget. If you don’t, you’ll never see me again. I’m going to remove my hand from your mouth, and you’renotgoing to scream. You’re not going to move at all. You’ll keep your eyes on that wall in front of you and answer my questions. Then, when I leave, you will give a slow count of thirty during which time you won’t turn around to watch me go.”
I waited for the instruction on whether to blink or nod, but then he gave a little rumble in his chest and suddenly the deathgrip he had on my face loosened, then his hand was gone. But he was still there, breathing in my ear.
I froze, my heart hammering.
“Very good girl,”he whispered hoarsely.
My stomach thrummed. I swallowed and breathed through my mouth, gulping at the air, my heart pounding like it might actually break through my ribs.
“Now, answer my questions quietly, but quickly. Do you know the man who was leering at you in the gym today?”
I blinked. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but that wasn’t it. “No,” I said quickly.
“Have you seen him there before, or spoken to him at all?”
“I’ve seen him, but we haven’t spoken before. Except… like that.”
He was silent for a second. He cleared his throat and I thought I heard a hint of his actual voice, but when he spoke again it was still in a whisper.
“Why do you want to die?”
I blinked. “I told you, I have—”
“There are plenty of people in this world who would happily take every day of health that was available to them. There’s something else in your life that makes you want to die. What is it?”
My heart rammed at my ribs. I gripped the hem of the hoodie tighter. “Life is… empty,” I said. “Boring. Hollow. Whatever you want to call it. There’snothinghere. What’s the point?”
“A nihilist?” he asked, sounding a little amused, which pissed me off.
“My psychiatrist calls it fatalism, and says I confuse thrill with purpose.”
He hesitated. “Do you want to die? Or do you want the thrill of being hunted?”
“It isn’t a thrill if I can’t actually die,” I said without hesitation.
“That’s not the question—”
“Yes, it is,” I interrupted him, then blinked, wondering if that was breaking any rules. But he paused, so I swallowed and plowed on. “The only time I feelaliveis when I feel like life might be taken from me. For real. You said that the first day. You said you knew that.”