Page 20 of The Huntress and Her Hound

My stomach flips. “Are you trying to say I’m possessed or something?”

Her dark brows shoot up. “No, but I do think you have your demons. Anyone choosing to live and work in this city is battling a war of some sort—internally, usually.”

“Real deep, Sarah.” I down the rest of my water and reach for my purse. “Will it kill you if I go ahead and slip out?”

She shakes her head. “Nah, go ahead. I’m thinking about staying late anyway. I need the overtime.” She leans against the bar, her eyes scanning the thick crowd of dancing, mostly drunk patrons. They all probably think they’re having the time of their lives, grinding against each other’s sweaty bodies and putting their livers through hell. And as much as I’m disgusted by the sight, I wish I could cope with my shit in such a harmless way.

But it doesn’t work for me.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You mean later today.” I side-eye her as I sling my purse across my body.

She makes a face. “It’s exhausting when you say it like that.”

I laugh and slide out from behind the counter. “See you tomorrow, Sarah.”

“You got it, BW.”

Smiling a wretched grin to myself, I head for the exit, opting for the elevator. I step inside. However, before the door closes all the way, a hand stops it.

“Are you taking off for the evening?” The stocky young blond asks, suddenly hovering in the gap. His breath reeks of liquor, and I purse my lips in an annoyance.

“You should get back to your group,” I tell him politely. “I have places to be.”

“They don’t need me as much as you do.” He winks at me, and bile rises up the back of my throat.

“Not interested,” I spew at him, letting the viper out. I don’t have time for this inconvenience of a human being.

He takes a step toward me. “I didn’t have you pegged as a bitch, but it turns me on when you talk like that.”

Anger wails in my ears. “Get out of this elevator, loser. No one is interested in your little dick energy.”

He mutters curses under his breath and takes steps back, his cheeks reddening. The elevator doors close, and I fill my lungs with oxygen. The asshole almost signed his death warrant, and while part of me wanted to entice him, again, it’s bad etiquette to hunt at work. It’s used for connections only. I shake it off on the ride down, and once out of the building, I take a left.

My heels click on the pavement, and as much as I wish I could take Cash with me on all my runs, it would draw too much attention. I’m not unarmed though. I carry emergency protection in two forms: lead and a taser. Surprisingly, I’ve never had to use either of them. However, a sense of unease hangs in the air around me tonight, crackling and sparking with impending doom. But I brush it off.

It's just the weird dynamic at home.

I still have to take it into account though. I need a relatively easy target—one that won’t make it difficult to lure them away.

And I know exactly where I’m going.

Chapter Eight

The Hound

I shouldn’t be following her, but here I am, taking the long way down from the rooftop bar. I make it out to the street just in time to catch sight of her hanging a hard left—the opposite direction of her apartment.

I readjust my snapback, my entire look tonight an utter embarrassment. I’m not like Henry. I can’t slink around in a black hoodie and not draw attention to myself. So, I dress like any other thirty-something douche bag, sporting a button down half undone and dark jeans. I did switch out the Converse for Nikes.

Only because Cher spends way too much time staring at my feet.

Speaking of, her story about the blue-haired coworker checked out. I also heard the woman call her BW, which I made a mental note of. I tug the bill of my hat a little lower, keeping my eyes on my best friend’s sister. I don’t know how much time I have before Henry calls it a night. I don’t know if he’ll call me at all. He went in unconnected, and that’s normal for this stage—but it’s only a matter of time before I have to spend my evenings in front of the computer.

I shove my hands in my pocket, my mind replaying what happened between the two of us right before she bolted. I can’t decide if for a moment, she actually wanted me or if it’s just me projecting that belief onto the situation—because it was clear as fuck that she was repulsed at the end.

I scared her, and I never scare anyone.

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