Page 35 of Hunted: Season Two

Both of our bodies propel themselves in that direction only to be abruptly stopped by a weapon drawn, pale, round faced man. We both halt in our tracks; however, instinctively, I hold out an arm in front of The Kid, preparing to use my body to shield his.

“Glad his plan to draw you here worked,” the platinum blond, curly haired male vilely announces. “Now…” he keeps his position steady, aim wisely on Kipp, “where’s the bitch?”

A loud, unexpected cracking sound echoes throughout the area as his frame unpredictably crumples to the ground at our feet.

Our attention instantly shifts to where our girlfriend is holding a shovel like a bat while leering over his body. “She’s. Right. Fucking. Here.”

Chapter 7

Kipp

Guns are loud.

For your ears.

For your neighbors’ ears.

Pets.

Strays.

Wildlife.

Plus, they have kickback, and they jam, and they misfire, and they have safety measures or levers you gotta remember to turn off orknowhow to turn off in order for them to be effective.

But tools?

Tools arequiet.

They don’t make a fucking sound for anyone other thanyouand the person or people you’re with and that’s exactly what we need in this situation.

The pale man from the cemetery whips his face wildly back and forth forcing me to grab a fist full of his damp hair to hold him steady.

Guy’s dripping more oil than an old pinto.

I get him having the sweats.

Getting caught, captured, and tortured when you’renottrained for it is terrifying shit.

That would make anyone leak engine fluid from both ends.

And he has.

First, he pissed himself the second he woke up in our shed.

Again…who could fucking blame him?

Opening your eyes to my boyfriend’s hand around your throat to help pin you in place while me and my girlfriend zip tie your ass to an old chair in a toolshed where no one can hear you scream or beg for mercy or forgiveness is…pretty goddamn horrifying.

But so is a surprise attack at a fucking graveyard.

The same graveyard you stole my mother’s corpse from because you work for a sick fuck.

Post successfully pissing on Nolan’s shoes – mine barely stayed out of the splash zone – he gurgled on his own vomit, further proving he’s probably in a bit over his head.

Like I said, both of the leaks make sense.

It’s whatever shit he’s got pouring from his curly hair and slathered all over his Jesse’s Jetta white skin that’s fucking me up.

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