Page 48 of Hunted: Season Two

Good.

All those fucking bounty hunters are about to learnexactlywhy they picked the wrong woman to hunt.

Transitioning out of the vehicle occurs around the same time that my boyfriend and girlfriend arrive on my side of the truck, all sated smiles, which is a sight I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of.

I love it when they’rebothlike this.

Calm.

Peaceful.

Yeah, I know we’re here to pay our respects to November and listen to the town lie about what a perfect man he was when he was alive, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the two people who are alive and well beside me.

Or that I won’t.

“You both have sex hair,” I tease prior to locking the truck. “At afuneral.”

“No,” Rabbit playfully argues, fingers reaching for mine, “we have ‘Born to Be Alive’ hair.”

“Isn’t the song ‘Born to Be Wild’?” The Kid casually asks in return, arm draping lovingly around her shoulder.

“That’s by Steppenwolf,” our girlfriend informs and redirects her gaze to him. “And a completely different song.”

“It is?” he innocently ponders.

“Do you just wake up in the morning on a mission to age us, Kid?” I good naturedly goad, getting more chuckles out of him. “Is it calledMission: Most Likely?”

“Dad jokes?” The Kid freely laughs louder. “Really?” He shakes his head in amusement. “You’re aging yourself there, Sir.”

“Don’t make me put you over my knee,” slips out around my own airy chortles.

“Promises. Promises.”

“Can I get in on that promise?” Rabbit interjects along our walk towards the open doors.

Kid waggles his eyebrows during his questioning, “Being spanked or doing the spanking?”

Additional chuckles bounce around the three of us yet instead of letting myself fully succumb to them, something out of the corner of my eye catches my attention.

Glancing off to the left, I search for what moved, only to see nothing.

No one.

Not even a bird flying low in the sky.

Huh.

Maybe it was simply a leaf.

Or a bug.

It’s probably nothing to worry about.

It’s…most likely…nothing to worry about.

Uncertainty pushes me to grip our woman’s hand tighter as I slyly survey the area again, scanning foranythingthat can explain what I swore I saw.

What’s got the hairs on the back of my neck beginning to stand.

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