Page 5 of Hunt for You

As a concession to the doctors, and because they really wouldn’t let me doanythingif I didn’t have some kind of observation, I wore a heart monitor while I worked out, or any time I thought I’d be walking more than a mile. Because my resting heartrate was sixty-five, I wasn’t allowed to let my working heart rate exceed one hundred or the fucking monitor would start screaming louder than a church lady at an R-rated movie, and everyone at the gym would look at me.

It was a royal pain in my ass, because it meant that between sets on the weights I had to sit there like an idiot while it lowered—which inevitably invitedcommentsfrom the gym monkeys who thought I was a princess who didn’t want to break a sweat.

“You need a towel over there, sweetheart? I’d be happy to come wipe you down.”

Fuck around and find out, douchebag.

“I’m good.” I didn’t even make eye-contact. There was no point. I might actually topple him off his too-high center of gravity with the force of my disdain.

When I’d done all my sets, I went to the bank of cardio machines andalmostjumped on the stair-stepper. But thatreally would get my heart rate up too fast. And besides, those machines had their back to the room and the pitbull was still glancing my way once in a while. I didn’t want him leering at my ass.

So I stepped up to my usual treadmill. But just as I was turning the machine on, I took a quick glance out the big window to the street three levels below in case there was any sign of a dark, probably homicidal maniac following me.

My heart rate jumped high enough for the monitor to give a faint beep when I saw a guy leaning in a doorway across the road, smoking a vape. He had hair as black as mine, shaved on the sides and long enough to fall into his eyes on top. He was pierced through every visible orifice and protrusion, and he wasstrong.Athletic and muscular without the ridiculous bulk of the body builders in here.Thatwas a body that had been honed for moving and dominating, not just to impress the eye.

He was frowning at the doors into the gym and for a moment I stopped breathing and my heart rate jumped up another notch. But then another guy trotted up to him and they kissed briefly, then disappeared into the apartment building.

Oh well, maybe not.

My heart monitor gave one more warning beep before I snapped out of the thrill-trance, took two or three deep, controlled breaths, then turned on the machine and started a slow jog that I could sustain for an hour at a heart rate of ninety-five. I wouldn’t though. Just five miles today. I needed to preservesomeenergy, just in case Cain really did show up.

My heart monitor peeped at me again, but I was smiling that time.

~ CAIN ~

She was more aware of her surroundings than I would have anticipated, but pretty soon it became clear why.

Every time she turned her back in this room, the fuckers that were supposed to be here working out, but had really come here to see and be seen, were following her with their eyes, murmuring to each other—slapping chests and snorting as they said things that I would cut their tongues out for actually speaking if I got the chance.

And yet, a part of me understood the allure. One particular part of my anatomy, understood a great deal. And that wasnotgood.

I had learned years ago that any kind of emotional, or sexual attachment beyond the hunt itself not only complicated the game, but threatenedmysafety. It influenced my objectivity.

For that reason, I’d almost left the moment she walked in, turned my back and never contacted her again. Because the first time I clapped eyes on her it was like the air in the room shifted.

I’d positioned myself strategically behind a few weight machines so I could see her, but wouldn’t be easily seen myself. I knew roughly what she looked like, but it still punched me in the solar plexus when she actually showed up.

I almost laughed at her raven-black hair sticking straight up on top of her head, like a five-year-old’s. Especially since she’d hidden the rest of her trim body in a thick, black hoodie that would have been big enough for me—was it her boyfriend’s? Did he know what she was doing? Who she was talking to at night while he slept?

Or maybe he was behind this?

The hair on the back of my neck stood up. Maybe it was something they did together? It wouldn’t be the first couple I’d met that were into dark shit together. And she wouldn’t be thefirst woman who pretended to be single and was actually looking for someone to help her make it a reality.

But as she strode into the gym with a little bag over her shoulder, swimming in that massive hoodie, her skin-tight shorts hugging only the top half of her tight thighs, my entire body went still and my heart began to thud against my ribs.

Despite the fact that she’d done everything she could to hide it—she wasstunning.When she turned her head to look through the glass doors behind her, her eyes were so big and penetratingly bright, for a second I stopped breathing.

The handful of photos I’d seen online didn’t do her justiceat all.They were all from college, before she was really a woman.

Her hair was shorter and a lot more severe now. And her skin, while unblemished except for what appeared to be a scar on her forehead, lookedtoopale. Like she didn’t get enough sun. Which was probably true, considering what she’d told me about her health issues. Yet, not only was she a member here at the gym, I’d found an old archive clipping from her childhood hometown in which the local newspaper showed her and a dozen other high school students who’d received belt promotions at their local Karate dojo over a decade ago.

She definitely moved like someone who knew her own body. But then, a lot of women did—especially when they knew men were going to be looking at them. It didn’t necessarily mean she’d kept up with her training.

I was both fascinated, and frustrated.

Records of her had been easy to find after she was ten years old, which was about the age most people started leaving a trail online. But while I could dig up school records and sports teams and even what appeared to be a college degree earned online, it was like she had only existed in the most shallow ways.

No social media at all, not even old ones. Not even an oldFacebookaccount that uneducated parents might havesuggested and then monitored while she was in high school. Which was shocking in this day and age.

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