Page 73 of The Huntress and Her Hound

Me: You can’t prove anything. Leave me alone.

I drum my fingers on the table, and then smooth out my Rolling Stones T-shirt. Being too disheveled after Jude, I didn’t have the fucking nerve to dress edgy—and so shorts and T-shirt it was and is. My phone pings, and I stare at the screen. Another picture of Sarah and me in the alleyway...

Months ago.

Unknown: GHB and Fentanyl.

Okay, now I’m just getting angry.

Me: What the fuck do you want from me?

Unknown: My little girl back.

I drop my phone, the screen shattering as it hits the tile floor. I slap my hand over my mouth to stifle a sob and shove out of the booth. I sweep up the broken device, the screen glowing an eerie white as I shove it into my purse. My eyes are burning as I head straight for the bathroom and bust through the doors. I rush to a stall and vomit up my coffee. I thought going to prison was my worst nightmare.

No, this is.

Why would he be in Vegas? How would he have found me? Everything is under aliases. There’s no way. My stomach continues to churn as I heave once more. My eyes water and my throat burns from the acid.

‘He’s coming for you, little girl.’

‘You’ll always belong to him.’

I drop the lid of the toilet and sit on it, the seams cracking as tears roll down my cheeks. I thought I was finally getting my shot at being normal, my chance to feel pleasure and maybe something more with Jude. But clearly, nothing is going how I hoped.

Turning to my watch, I set a timer for five minutes—and I allow myself to lose it for the duration of that, bawling my eyes out and gasping for oxygen like I’m suffocating. However, when the timer chimes, I clear my throat, wipe my eyes, and pull myself together.

I’m the fucking Black Widow.

I can take him. I just have to find him.

After I fix the smeared mascara on my face and dab away the remaining evidence of my breakdown, I pull out my busted phone. I try to reset it and bring it back to life. Nothing works. Fuck. I’ll have to get a new one. I check my watch, realizing I don’t have time. I have to meet with Henry and go house shopping first.

And maybe I should let him buy the stupid fucking house.

It would be the perfect place to lure someone and not ever let them leave. The desert is a harsh place, and decomposition can happen quickly, right? I’ll look that up. Nodding to myself, I slip out of the bathroom, scanning the coffee shop. I don’t even know what Dr. Nile would look like these days.

Old and fucking decrepit.

That gives me minimal relief, and as I walk through the coffee shop, I keep my eyes peeled for a familiar face—but there isn’t one. I push through the front doors and head to the meeting spot with Henry. My legs feel weak, but I ignore it. That’s what I’ve done my entire fucking adult life. Ignore it.

‘But you don’t ignore me.’

I wince at the sound of the voices. Someday I’ll mourn the twenty-four hours Jude made them all disappear. But for now, I have to be a big girl. My demons are here to stay, I guess. I keep my chin up as I walk, as if only to signal to the creep following me that he doesn’t get to break me. However, as I reach the meeting place with Henry and my eyes land on a tall, strawberry blonde god of a man, my confidence wavers.

“He decided to show up,” Henry greets me through a terse smile.

I can’t meet Jude’s eyes. I can’t even look at him.

“Security systems are important.” Jude’s tone is difficult to read. I feel his eyes on me, but I still can’t look at him. I know it’s probably over between us—and I can’t risk the heartbreak of seeing the face that made all the hurt dissipate.

“Let’s go,” Henry gestures to a black rental SUV parked at the curb. He heads for the driver’s seat, ripping the door open with a fucking vengeance. Jude snorts from beside me, but I only stare at his beat-up converse. My heart aches at his nearness.

“You can ride in the front.” Jude’s voice is like a knife to my chest. It’s not kind, but it’s not cruel either. It’s...indifferent.

“That’s okay,” I mutter, heading for the backseat. I don’t want my brother’s scrutinizing gaze right now. As I reach for the back passenger door, Jude beats me, opening it. Keeping my head down, I slide in, shifting until I’m sitting behind Henry.

Jude then climbs into the passenger seat, and I steal a quick glance at him, hating how fucking handsome he is. His hat’s on backwards, and his black T-shirt clings to his body in a way that causes my heart to flutter. Even with the devil in town, closing in on me like a fucking nightmare, I still feel better when Jude is in my vicinity.

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