Page 108 of Hunted: Season Two

There’s definitely a fucking connection.

No matter how much we wish there wasn’t.

No matter how fucking hard we keep trying to cut those break lines to make them crash into a fucking tree.

Post makes another attempt to settle the situation, “Bunny-”

“No!”

“Give me a sec with her,” I express, walking the same direction she is. “Alone.”

He reluctantly nods prior to redirecting his attention back to the medical professional that’s rising to his feet with either new questions or new information.

Her fleeing stops on the opposite side of the road, a few feet away off the paved path, in the middle of a dirt one that looks recently taken. As soon as I’m directly in front of her, she quietly barks, “How the fuck does he keep doing this?!” Frantic hand movements accompany her whispered screeching. “Why can’t anyone fucking find him?!” Pacing begins.“Or see him?! Or stop him?!” She runs her hands down the side of her face, scratching at her own skin, clawing for freedom I’m starting to fear we’ll never find. “How the fuck are we supposed to have a child with him out there?!”

Unmatched honesty is attached to a small shrug. “We can’t.”

At that, Rabbit abruptly stops.

Finds my gaze.

Tilts her face in question.

“We have to kill him before our son is born. End of story.”

“Not end of story.” She lets her shoulders slip a little lower during an impish scolding. “It could be a girl.”

“Then before our little Letty is born.”

“We’re not naming her Letty.”

“Fine,” I join her in the teasing smiles, “but at least we’re on the same road about the other thing, right?”

Bunny doesn’t hesitate to bob her head in agreement.

McAdams will, absolutely fucking, meet his death date before our child receives their birth one.

Preparing to close the gap between us has me initially stepping forward; however, the gust of unexpected cold air leads to me turning my head away from it, an action that results in something small capturing my attention. “Is that a tooth?”

“Huh?”

“There.” Pointing to the ground about a foot over occurs next. “Is that a tooth?”

The woman I was moving towards lets her frame bend that direction to inspect the object. “Maybe?”

“Is that another one?” My gesturing moves a couple inches further away from the road. “And another?” Our eyes momentarily lock. “Did he leave a trail of my mom’s fucking teeth for us to follow?!”

Her mouth barely has time to twitch in response before I’m grabbing her hand to guarantee we don’t get separated during our pursuit.

Because we’re gonna fucking see where this shit goes.

Like my favorite film franchise, we’re in this shit until those final credits roll.

More teeth are found closer to the wooded area but eventually are replaced by bones.

These are smaller than most of the ones by the road.

Perhaps they’re from an ear?

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