Page 46 of The Prey

I use both hands to scratch his ears, and then I place a kiss on the top of his muzzle. It's a little dusty, so I bet he was sniffing around this place while I was gone.

Once I take a seat on the bag, he turns, scruffs his feet into the fabric to bunch it up, turns again, and then lies down right over my ankles.

All I can do is laugh. “You dork. Those are my feet. They will fall asleep if you lie on them.”

He regards me with steady brown eyes, and I imagine him telling me he doesn't give a shit. I snuggle into the sleeping bag, exhaustion pressing down on me.

If I lie here for a bit, I’ll feel better.

I can always go back into the house in a couple of hours. It’s not like I can sneak into the closet to sleep until everyone else is in bed, anyway, or at least retreating to their rooms for the night.

I tug Cobalt closer so I can nuzzle him. He obliges, curling his body against mine, and I stroke his back gently. With each stroke, my eyes grow heavier. It doesn’t take long for my exhaustion to overpower the caffeine roaring in my veins.

Okay, maybe I lied. I’ll just take a tiny nap.

20

Sebastian

Apologizing sucks dick, and not just any dick, but dick that’s been wrapped in razor wire. To apologize is to take accountability for your actions and admit you were wrong. If you ask me, I have no issue doing either, mainly because I’m usually never wrong.

Except in this instance.

I’ve fought against myself, agonizing over how I would approach Elyse and wondering exactly what she heard. If I apologize, it will mean that what I said was a lie, which might make things worse, but if I don’t apologize, then Bel may never talk to me again.

Okay, that’s a lie; she’ll probably talk to me at some point, but knowing she’s disappointed in me eats away at my resolve.

It makes me feel slimy and bad.

But being an asshole to Elyse isn’t the only place I went wrong. I missed the entire thing with Yanov. When she moved into the house, a house I still can’t really think of as mine, I checked her out.

Both on paper and in person, she’s everything that she portrays herself to be.

Kind. Studious. Never been in any type of trouble.

Everything lines up. The only issue I now have is where Yanov fits into the puzzle.

There’s nothing about him in her paperwork; nor did her father mention him. It’s like he appeared out of thin air, which makes me uneasy and feel like I’m missing something.

So while apologies might be outside my capacity, at least for now, maybe I can feel better if I find another way to fix things. To keep her safe and out of that sick fuck’s hands. I snag my phone off the bed and switch the drink into my other hand to scroll through my contacts. Information is king in the world that I live in. If you know things about someone, you can use it against them. When I reach Grady’s number, my PI, I hit the call button. It’s late, but for how much I pay him, he should be available to take my calls at any time, day or night.

The phone rings for a while, and when he doesn’t answer, I call again.

“What? For fuck’s sake, what?” the deep Irish voice barks through the line.

“You talk to all your clients that way, Grady?”

There’s a pause. “I didn’t check the name, but considering the time, I’m not fecking apologizin’.”

I don’t give a shit, so I press on. “I need all the information you can get me about a man named Yanov. Works for Sidorov, the flesh merchant.”

Another long pause. “You got anything else? Something to go off that isn’t a couple of names that sound like damn characters from Game of Thrones?”

I roll my eyes. He’s always such an asshole when I wake him up. “Yanov is a cop here in town, and he’s friends with…likely working under an officer named Silver…at the police department.”

“That’s better. I can work with that. How fast do you need the information?”

“As soon as you can get it. I’ve got this guy eyeing something that belongs to me, and I’m not about to let him blindside me when he tries to take it.”

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