Page 7 of Thrill of the Hunt

Beating me until I couldn’t move, day after day. Breaking my bones until I couldn’t leave the house, controlling me over and over again. Keeping me here, never letting me leave to begin a life of my own.

He has no idea what it’s like to go from being someone’s entire world to the scum on the bottom of their shoe. His fatherlovedhim when he died. That’s the difference between us.

“You act as though we’re the same,” I say flatly.

Greyson stops walking and rotates his body to face me. “We aren’t so different.”

“We arenothingalike.” My voice raises, losing patience. “You’d lose the ability tofeelif you were beaten into submission.”

His eyes soften a little, and he almost looks stunned. “Your ability to feel nothing makes you that much more perfect for the job.”

A hysterical giggle leaves my throat. “I didn’t realize this was a job interview.”

Greyson’s words don’t waver as he says, “You certainly dressed for the occasion.”

Looking down, I find that I’m covered in blood and dirt. There’s moss on my dress, and it’s wrinkled now. A single tear falls down my cheek. I can’t hold back a small smile as I let out a laugh. I feel like I’m losing my mind.

Why am I feeling so many different things right now? I should be terrified and running for my life, but here I am, on the forest floor with one of the most dangerous men in the United States. There’s sadness and grief hidden behind my mask. He can’t see it, but I know he can feel it. The fear he instills within me leaves as quickly as it goes. How can he cut me from behind, breaking my skin as I flee, then make me feel the will to live?

Perhapsheisn’t the problem. It’s me. Iamfucked up. He’s fucked up in his own kind of way, his own kind of trauma. But no sane person could feel the slickness building between their legs while their life is in the hands of a monster. Maybe I’m further gone than I thought.

“Get up,” Greyson demands, losing the friendliness in his voice. “We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

I stare at him for a moment, not moving as he adjusts his mask on his face. He blends in so well with the dark forest. The black pants and button-up shirt were purposefully chosen for the occasion. They provide him with both camouflage and a fierceness no one could match.

The way he’s looking at me should be enough to get my legs going, but I can’t get myself to move. I’m stuck in his trance, suddenly feeling desperate to touch him.

He must understand my conflict, because he puts his knife back in his pocket and steps closer, sliding his hands through mine as he pulls me to my feet. I inhale as his musky scent washes over me in a wave, filling me with need.

Greyson’s breath is hot as he lowers his mouth to my ear. “There will be plenty of time for fucking, but right now you need to run, Isabelle.”

Chills run down my spine, making me crane my neck against his lips. My body presses into his, and I immediately feel the hardness in his pants. He’s so fucking hard. If we were different people, in another life or another time or place… I’d letthishappen. But we aren’t.

“Which direction?” I ask, pushing myself off of him as I struggle to stay in control.

His shoulders drop as I step away, and I realize he’s releasing a breath he’s been holding. Do I have more of an effect on him than I previously thought? Is he struggling with this as much as I am?

He can’t be. He’s Greyson fucking Matthers. People like him don’t let themselves catch feelings, not when they know firsthand how dark the world really is.

“That way,” he points behind me. “There’s over three-fourths of a mile left.”

“Okay,” I swallow, looking away from him. “You want me to run?”

His eyes immediately darken at the mention of me running from him. The muscles in his shoulders tense up, and he looks larger than he did a few seconds ago.

“You’ll run as fast as you can, and I’ll hunt you down. You’ll fight for your life to get away from me, but I’m going to catch you, Isabelle, and I’m going to make youdrown.”

The words come out as he intends, dark and malignant. Predatory instincts begin taking over, and he’s reaching for his knife again. His calm demeanor changes so quickly that I can feel the electric charge between us. My heart starts back up, beating faster and faster with each passing second. I begin backing up, feeling his wrath as it reemerges.

“Run, Isabelle,” he warns, flipping his knife open as he matches my backwards steps.

I’m losing control.

She’s fucking with me more than I thought she would. Those pretty little lips are so distracting I can almost feel my cock shoved between them, pumping down her throat.

This wasn’t the plan. I was supposed to chase her through the forest, then fuck the living daylights out of her. She’s supposed to bemine. Instead, she’s making me bend toherwill.

Wounding her was harder than I thought it’d be. I’ve had so much anger built up for her over the years that I didn’t even give it a second thought. It should beeasyto hurt a girl from the family who took so much from me, but I think it hurt me as much as it hurt her when I slid my knife through her back.

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