Page 62 of The Huntress and Her Hound

“Gladly,” I mutter as he leaves the room. The door slams, and I glance down at the blood dripping onto my shirt. Even had I not made the comment, it was coming anyway. I spend the next thirty minutes repacking all my shit—including my computers. After that, I lug it all down to the Uber without a single offer of help from Henry.

Not that I expect or deserve it.

The driver doesn’t question my nose or the ice pack I carry as I climb into the backseat. My head is fucking pounding, and as the car pulls away from the curb, my phone starts to buzz. I sigh, pulling it out to see the notification.

Cher stopped sharing her location with you.

I breathe in a long, deep breath. She’s either fucking with me, fucking someone else, or someone is trying to fuck up her.

And I have no idea which it is.

But this night is about to get interesting.

Chapter 22

The Huntress

I wait for Jude’s response, running my tongue along my bottom lip. I’ve spent the entire shift toying with the idea of him punishing me. A part of me is terrified he’s going to destroy me, and the other part argues that’s exactly what I need. It’s been long enough. Maybe I need a change.

And just as I expected, a text comes through my phone.

Jude: Where are you?

I giggle to myself as I step out into the night. Just like I assumed, he’s been watching my location the entire time—and that’s exciting. I quickly type a text back, and it’s instantly read. He’s waiting.

Me: None of your business.

Jude: If you’re fucking with me, you’ll regret it, kitten. I swear. Tonight is not the night.

I hesitate, my heart pounding with a mixture of fear, arousal, and excitement. I’m dying to know what he’ll do with me when he catches me, and the chase is nearly as exhilarating. My phone chirps again.

Jude: I’ll find you. No matter where you go. I will fucking find you.

Me: Then come find me, hound.

I slink off down the street, my eyes watching the screen. It shows he read it, but there’s nothing else. No response. I swallow hard, my pulse thrumming in my ears. I can assume that he’s at the apartment with my brother—and that’s all I can assume.

Swiping to my brother’s contact, I hit the call button. By the time I put it to my ear, Henry has already answered.

“Hey.”

Oof. He sounds mad.

“Um, everything okay?” I ask, keeping an eye out around me as I head toward the same coffee shop Jude and I visited the first night we kissed.

“Yeah, sure. When will you be back?”

“I don’t know. Why? Are you and Jude hungry or something?” I normally wouldn’t give a shit if either of them were hungry, but for the sake of tracking Jude, it’s helpful.

“Jude isn’t here. He’s staying at some penthouse he rented out.”

My heart actually sinks. “Wait, why?” And what penthouse?

“I knew something was up with him. I knew he had a thing for you the moment we walked through the fucking door.” The anger in his voice is startling, so startling I stop in the middle of the street.

“What are you talking about?” I play it stupid, not admitting to anything. I highly doubt Jude would’ve told Henry we had messed around. He’d be dead.

“Has he come onto you?”

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