Page 2 of Thrill of the Hunt

His final note was delivered by hand three days ago. His lips were silent as he approached, catching me in the middle of a routine jog around the property. My mouth was dry like cotton as he gently placed the folded paper between my fingers, leaving as quickly as he came. A shudder ripped through me as I opened it, reading the black, inky words.

“It’s almost time to play. Die, or join us. See you soon, my sweet gazelle.”

He no longer needed to count down the days until the Reckoning. He saw the intensity of my training pick up each day. The words on the paper were accompanied by a small portrait.

The face of his father was the final piece of the puzzle.

He isn’t doing all of this because of somethingI’vedone, but for what my father did before he died. It’s been six years since my father slaughtered William, Greyson’s father, on the front lawn of their family estate. William had been trying to separate himself from The Exodus for quite some time, but The Exodus doesn’tletanyone go. Tasked withremovingthe problem, my father handled it. Greyson was bound by rope and beaten senseless, forced to watch as his father was dismembered. William’s blood was transferred into champagne flutes, which my father and his men toasted with and passed around to share. It was certainly among his favorite murders and he spoke of it often with his men, laughing as though they hadn’t inflicted a trauma too deep to heal from.

Greyson wasn’t seen around town for months, likely taking time to heal from the wounds and broken bones inflicted upon him by my father and his men. During his absence, I felt sorry for him. We’d both been forced away from the world to heal from my father’s wrath, and I was able to relate to him on a deeper level than most without ever exchanging a single word. I understand what it’s like when you can’t face the world, tooashamed to show the bruises covering your face. People change their perception of you all too quickly when the black and purple flesh is exposed.

Like you’reweak.

Not good enough. Youletsomeone do that to you.

I’d assumed Greyson was the man responsible for my father’s death, but why would he continue to seek revenge after killing him? I now believe I was wrong, and it was more likely a drug deal gone bad.

Whoever it was, it wasn’t Greyson Matthers, and he’s still out for blood.Myblood.

The night of the Reckoning is here.

Ican smell her perfume before she comes into my view.

Her first mistake of the evening.

Her scent has always been alluring to me. It’s luxurious and easily the most divine fragrance to hit my nose, but the light berry notes are playful, making me feel alive as I inhale her. My eyes flutter closed as I momentarily let myself be consumed by her presence.

She’s so fucking sweet.

I’ve resisted the urge to take her every day for the last year. After my father’s death, so much of my time was spent plotting a thousand different ways to destroy Carlos Garcia, Isabelle’s father. The options were limitless, which felt overwhelming at the time. I toyed with the idea of torturing him slowly, makingIsabelle watch in the same wayheforced me to watch my father bleed out before me. I was completely and utterly useless as the tight ropes they bound me with tore into the flesh of my broken wrists.

All he wanted was to leave The Exodus, but once you’re in, there’s no escaping. The Exodus sinks its claws in as deep as they can go, making it impossible to remove yourself from its grasp. My father knew that, but he couldn’t justify this way of life anymore. I pleaded with him time and time again, begging him to lay low and ride it out, but he couldn’t. He was tired of the killings, the senseless murders and kidnappings. The drugs, the political meddling.

The monster I was becoming.

He hated how far I got sucked into the secret society. It didn’t take long to climb the ranks. The most elite members have the dirtiest hands. Whether they do the work themselves or hire out is questionable, but we’ve all sinned beyond the point of return. Weallhave a seat in Hell.

I’ve grown to enjoy the ways of The Exodus for the most part. The political meddling doesn’t interest me in the slightest, but I’ve enjoyed the endless line of needy girls begging to suck my cock. The money buys me just about anything I could want. I’ve dabbled in cocaine more than once to take the edge off my stress. There are so many benefits to being an elder in The Exodus, but it has its price.

Ironically, I’ve been tasked with keeping our members in line, ensuring no one gets out, and only those whoearnit get in. I kill who I have to, fuck who I need answers from, and hunt down the few who make a run for it. It’s the same story over and over again. They don’t make it far before I’ve caught up to them, and they’re always so surprised when I make my appearance. Whendeathmakes an appearance. The only way out is death.

Once a decade, we hold the Reckoning. It’s not only a staggering show of power and wealth, but also a clever way to recruit new members, keeping the society alive. The rules of the event are simple. Each member brings a guest, willing or unwilling, and that guest either passes a series of games and sacrifices chosen for them by that member, or they die. It’s ten hours of madness and chaos, driven forward by drugs, sex, and bloodshed. With law enforcement on our side, everything is legal tonight. There are no boundaries to be broken. Identities are kept confidential for the most part, so all members are required to wear masks.

This year’s Reckoning is extra special. I’ve chosen Isabelle Garcia as my guest of honor. The vision of how I want tonight to play out came to me last fall as I chased a rogue member through the woods. His ending was long, drawn out by my imagination running wild with possibilities for Isabelle. After Carlos pissed off the wrong dealer and got himself killed, I had no choice but to turn my sights on her.

Isabelle has always intrigued me. Her long, brown hair flows in the prettiest waves. The way she carries herself, like she hasn’t had the weight of the world on her shoulders since her mother died, makes me wonder if she has any emotion at all. After Carlos died, I watched her to see what she’d do, but she stayed. No one expected her to remain in that big, empty house by herself, but she did. She carried on with life, keeping to herself most days, but she seemed more free than ever.

I’ve questioned how Carlos treated her, to leave her appearing unaffected, but then I remember back to the days when we were younger. She was his entire world. A real daddy’s girl. Her ability to remain unphased when she lost her entire family is admirable, and it makes her the perfect candidate for The Exodus.

I was further impressed with her when she hired personal trainers within weeks of picking up on my hints. She’s smart. She’s been preparing for this night, even though she has no idea what’s in store for her this evening. I’ve had ample time to plan out every fucking minute of the next ten hours.

Sacrifice or die, she’smine.

There’s a warm breeze drifting through the yard when my eyes finally land on him. Dressed in all black, he’s hard to see through the shadows of the trees, but he’s there. My heart drops into my stomach, and I can feel my pulse quicken. I swallow hard, trying to convince myself I’ve been training for this night for months. No matter what he throws at me, I’m more prepared now than ever. My chances of surviving the night are slim, but if I play it smart, I might just walk out alive.

He steps out from the trees and into the driveway, letting the moon light him from behind. His eyes are on me, more predatory and dark than I’ve ever seen. Greyson stands there, scanning my entire body as I rise from my spot on the cementstaircase. Fixing my dress and flattening any wrinkles, I raise my eyes to his, holding his glare. I can feel my chest rising and falling faster than I want, but I can’t get it under control. My breathing is too erratic, completely unstable as he takes a step toward me.

Greyson’s stride is long and cool, like he’s out for an evening walk and nothing more. But we both know that’s not the case.