Page 4 of Hunt for You

Cain was coming for me.

Life just got very, very interesting.

Thank God.

2. The Scent of You

~ BRIDGET ~

The next morning I woke up to the usual hollow emptiness in my chest—until I remembered what had happened the night before and adrenaline began to thread through my system, making me shiver.

I knew it was unlikely, but I couldn’t resist logging on to the dark web forumjust in casehe’d messaged again, or was giving me some clue of when or how he might show up.

But of course, there was nothing.

Then I decided to check my email because I hadn’t done that for a couple days, and it was time for my monthly payment.

I immediately regretted it.

---

FROM: Asshole (Jeremy Haines)

TO: Bridget

SUBJECT: You agreed to the rules

---

Ugh.I hovered the mouse over the email for a moment, considering opening it. But the truth was, I knew what it was about, and I didn’t want to think about that yet.

Muttering a curse under my breath, I marked the email as “read” knowing he’d get a notification of that. It would hold him off for a time.

Jeremy was an asshole, but a fairly patient one. He believed in letting people think about stuff. If he thought I’d read it, he’d give me a couple days before he’d decide he needed to up the stakes. And by then I might feel differently.

Or I might be dead.

I giggled as my skin goosebumped and sparkled and my heart raced. But then I put Jeremy out of my mind, closed out my email, made sure my computer was logged out of everything before disconnecting the VPN and turning it all off.

Looking at that blank screen made my skin itch, so I slapped the lid of the laptop down and pushed out of the chair.

I’d go to the gym. Then at least I’d feel shaky from tiredness instead of anxiety.

I also smiled at the idea that Cain might already be coming after me. And when he found me at the gym he’d be pissed.I thought you weren’t supposed to raise your heartrate?

Shouldn’tandwouldn’twere two different things.

Some things were worth the risk. Namely, my sanity.

I liked living on the edge.

So I dressed quickly, shoved my black hair up into a ponytail that, because it was cut in a blunt bob, was really just a sticky-uppy top-tie that made me look about six years old, but kept most of my hair off my neck, then jumped in the car, watching the rearview eagerly for any sign of a car following me as I drove the fifteen mile route to the only decent gym in the area.

A heavenly scent assaulted me the minute I walked into the actual gym, but there were already dozens of people there, andlots more than half of them were men. I considered taking a quick circuit of the room and seeing who’d picked the gorgeous cologne, maybe asking him what it was. But he’d think I was hitting on him, so I walked over to the weights praying that whoever he was, he’d walk past at some point and maybe he wouldn’t be a dickhead. He smelled good enough to lick.

In today’s world there wasn’t enough licking outside of preschool in anyone’s life, in my opinion.

Then I was at my first machine, and I had to pretend I was totally casual about messing with the hardware on my body. At least I could just slip my arms inside the big hoodie I wore and do it out of sight. Let them think I was messing with my bra straps or whatever.