Page 61 of The Huntress and Her Hound

I don’t fucking budge. “Why are you snooping on me? You’re not my fucking keeper, Henry.”

“Just tell me what you’re doing.”

“I need my own space—away from you, the dog, and your sister.” It’s a partial truth, and partial truths are easier to maintain.

He narrows his eyes at me. “Uh huh. And I take it that’s where you’ve been going?”

“Yep,” I answer him. “Sometimes I just want to decompress somewhere other than here with the Bayne siblings.”

“Hiring prostitutes or something?”

Okay, that was an unexpected jab.

“Uh, no. You know me better than that.”

“I know you’re obsessing over a bunch of dead guys—and I’ve read on the dark web someone thinks the Black Widow is doing it.”

I freeze. Where did I miss that? “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I was curious about the dead bodies showing up all over the city.”

“I figured maybe you’d hit the trail while looking into Jaxton Banks. I thought about borrowing the MO on Jaxton Banks, but it wasn’t worth it. Too close of contact.”

“Says the man who cuts throats,” I snort like I’m not internally wigging out over this newfound fact—one that I should’ve found. Fuck, I’m slipping.

“So is that what you’re chasing?” Henry holds my gaze.

“Yeah,” I answer him. It’s close enough to the truth that he won’t question it. “Seems intriguing.”

“And dangerous.”

“I need a little danger in my life,” I snap back at him, the unsearched phone burning a hole in my pocket.

“Now that this is over, if you want to stay at your penthouse, I would prefer it.” Henry’s voice is cold—so cold it’s almost startling. “I don’t want you to bring any of this to my sister’s home.”

I glare at him. “You’re being stupid right now.”

“So are you.”

My jaw sets so fucking hard it hurts. “You’re holding grudges tighter than Lydia’s throat, and you’ll be lucky if you still have a partner after this.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he snarls. “And I see how you look at my sister. I’ve killed for less.”

“Wow, okay.” I huff, pushing myself up from my chair. I grab for my suitcase in the corner of the room. “This was never about my internet searches, was it?”

“She’s too good for you, Jude.”

“Probably.” I don’t meet his gaze as I toss it on the bed and start filling it with my shit. I could argue that his sister visits sex clubs and flirts with men who end up dead, but I don’t. I wouldn’t throw Cher under the bus like that. I’ll let her maintain her pretty little façade.

“Why don’t you just fly back to California?” His voice is less cruel—probably because I’m fucking packing, but it’s still annoyingly angry. He has no idea either. If he knew I’d been two fingers deep in his sister, I might be dead right now.

“You are not my mother.” I zip up the first suitcase and toss it to the side. Then, I pull out my phone, scheduling an Uber. He has no idea that running me out is giving me a leg up with Cher. I’ll no longer be under his supervision. And I can do whatever the fuck I want.

“You’re not even going to argue with me.” Henry’s voice is flat. “What the fuck?”

“What do you want me to say?” I turn to him. “You want me to sit and confirm that I have checked your sister out? Would that make you feel better? You want to know that I thought about her underneath—”

I don’t get to finish. Henry’s fist hits my nose with a sick thud. Pain sears through my entire face, but I deserve it. I do. But at the moment, I don’t care. He can go fuck himself.

“Get the fuck out of this apartment,” Henry sneers as he staggers back.

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