Page 7 of The Huntress and Her Hound

“Computers,” I say stupidly.

She nods, her thick lips pursing. “Right. Computers.”

“Here,” Henry hands me the rest of my bags. “I need a shower.”

I take the two bags and sling them over my shoulders, wincing as I do. “Got it.” Damn, I feel weak right now.

Cher watches me as I take on the form of a fucking pack mule right before her eyes. However, if she’s amused, she doesn’t show it. “This way.” She spins on her bare feet and leads me further down the hallway to one of two doors at the end. “You don’t have your own bathroom, so you’ll have to use mine or Henry’s.”

“That’s fine.” I ignore the image of Cher soaked to the bone popping up in my head. I can’t help but wonder if those tattoos cover every inch of her body.

“Great, so...” Cher mutters, opening the last door on the right. “This is you.”

I turn back to her, meeting her gaze. “Thanks.”

She narrows her eyes at me, like something I said is wrong, but then it passes—and she smiles. “You’re welcome. I hope you enjoy your stay.” With that, she steps away.

“Cher,” I call after her, catching my breath as she turns back and her hair bounces across her shoulders.

“Yeah?”

“It’s really good to put a face to name after all this time of hearing about you.”

Her expression stays unmoving, and her voice comes out flat. “Yeah. Same.”

I blink a couple of times in an intrigued stupor, watching her disappear into her bedroom. I’m not sure if she’s truly unwelcoming, or if I just read her all wrong. But either way, I’m bothered that it bothers me.

Chapter Three

The Huntress

My brother’s best friend reminds me of an ornery puppy, and I can’t decide if I’m intrigued or repulsed. He’s got this disheveled reddish-blond hair and soft, warm eyes that seem to widen a little when he looks at me. But at the same time, he’s got this failed frat boy air about him, too.

And I don’t know what to do with that.

He’s tall—maybe even a little taller than my brother. He definitely hits the gym, though I still easily peg him as a nerd. I can’t picture the guy in prison like all the articles spell out, but the fact he got out on good behavior makes so much sense now that I’ve met him. I bet he was a very good boy there. I shudder at what that probably meant for him. But then again, based on what I’ve heard, he might like being someone’s little bitch.

Good boy, Jude. Good boy.

I nearly let out a cackle as I shut my bedroom door, thankful for the quiet. I have my own set-up in here, though I’m sure it’s got nothing on Hacker Boy’s. I’m not technologically savvy really, but I do manage to fly completely under the radar, using aliases for bank accounts.

And other purchases.

My heart thumps unevenly as I pull up the screen of my computer, my search for parties going on in the area popping up. They’re prime hunting ground for me, though I’ll have to try and put it off for as long as possible. It’s risky with company here. I shift uneasily in my chair, aching for the relief of the chase.

And staring into their dead fucking eyes.

I purse my lips, running my tongue along the tightened flesh. This is the first time I’ve seen my brother since I started this escapade, and intrusive thoughts begin to creep in...

Would I kill my brother if he wasn’t my brother?

I shake my head. Of course, I wouldn’t. He was an idiot with Lydia, but he loves her like he loves me. He’s the only man in the world with the capability of loving someone. He’s the only man who deserves to live.

Well, as far as I’ve discovered. Maybe I just don’t attract the good ones.

I wonder if Jude is a misogynist.

“Probably,” I answer myself, as I roll through the events coming up. Cash, my black and tan Doberman, looks up from his bed, his brown eyes focused on me. He’s been curious about our guests since they arrived earlier, but I’m not up to the introduction yet.

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