Page 59 of The Huntress and Her Hound

“Right, because helping Luca was such a fucking betrayal. Get over it. It wasn’t about you.” I don’t hold back my anger, mostly because I’ve now lost sight of Cher—which is concerning. She’s only been at her shift for thirty minutes.

Maybe she’s just going to the bathroom...

“You did all of that, and hid Emma—”

“And did she die?” I cut him off. “No. And for fuck’s sake, Henry, that was months ago. You would’ve done the same for him had roles been reversed. I’m tired of this coming up constantly.”

“It doesn’t come up constantly.”

“Whatever. I’ll head back, so we can divert from the plan.”

“Good, and then you can answer why you have a penthouse directly across from my sister’s job.”

“Can’t see her from where I’m at,” I lie, dropping the scope onto the couch and shoving it between the cushions of the white leather. “But even if I was watching her, it’d be less creepy than skulking around in the fucking woods.”

“Get the fuck back here.” He hangs up on me.

I tip my head back and run a hand over my face, frustration boiling up in my chest. I’ve done nothing but be a loyal dog to Henry for fucking years. I just want a chance to explore my own fucking urges. I mean, he did it without asking. He just ordered me around like always—and I did as he said.

So fuck him.

This one is for me.

But also...duty calls. I exit the penthouse, and ride the elevator down, now knowing that Henry is probably clocking my every move. It’s fucking annoying, but I can block him—and will if I need to.

When I step out onto the street, it’s busier than before, with all the club goers out and about, sipping their drinks and laughing obnoxiously. I’m in a ripe mood thanks to Henry, and the piercing laughs only serve to agitate me further, so it comes as no surprise that I don’t hear the person speaking to me.

“Excuse me, sir?”

I keep walking as the guy calls out, and until a hand lands on my shoulder. I spin around to see a man a couple of inches shorter than me. “Yeah?”

“You dropped this.” He holds out a phone—and it’s not mine.

I shake my head. “Uh, nope.”

“Yeah, I think so.” His hazel eyes meet mine and hold them too long. “I’m sure it is.”

I furrow my brow but take it from him. “Okay. Whatever you say.” Before I even can look at the screen, the guy disappears into the crowd. I stare after him, and then glance down at the phone. When it lights up, my heart drops.

I’m staring right into familiar ocean blue eyes. It’s clearly Cher. But it’s not my Cher. It’s a version of Cher I’ve never seen before. She’s young. Very young. Maybe high school? She’s smiling. It’s genuine.

And so different than the smile she wears now.

Before I dig further into the contents of whatever the fuck has just been handed to me, I race in the direction that the guy came from, searching for him. What the fuck did he even look like? What color was his hair? What was he wearing?

My mind fucking fails me. I usually have an incredible memory, but I’ve been way too distracted lately.

My gaze searches the sea of faces, and none of them look familiar. I was so caught up in my fucking self that I mentally checked out of the interaction. I’ll have to search the CCTV footage. My phone begins to buzz in my pocket, and I swap phones, pulling it out to see Henry’s name on the screen.

Good fucking riddance.

“I’m on my way back,” I snap as I answer. “Give me longer than five minutes to get there.”

“I’m on him now,” Henry ignores my jab.

“Okay,” I grunt, picking up into a jog. “I’m like ten minutes away, so don’t do anything stupid until I can get eyes on you.”

“He’s almost home now. I think I’ll just take him out there.”

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