Page 107 of Unwrapping Deviance

Christian turns his head, but I’ve already torn out of his grasp and am bolting into the woods.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHRISTIAN

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Little brat.

I stand on the edges of the woods, watching the pale shimmer of Mira’s shiny waves vanish into the murky depths.

A tiny, pale rabbit. Helpless. Scared. Thinking it can get away.

My heart thumps in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins. My palms itch to tangle in those silk strands and fist and pull. To drag her into the dirt and fuck her until her knees are bloody and my handprint is a red welt on her sweet ass.

I said I wasn’t much of a runner. I didn’t fucking say I wouldn’t hunt.

I pull out my phone and find Daniel’s text chain.

I type out,“Your baby girl is getting a fucking spanking before I fuck her in the dirt.”

I hit send.

I don’t wait for a response. I have a brat to catch, a pussy to wreck.

Phone stowed away, I set off.

If there was one thing Dad loved more than himself, it was anything manly. Anything that proved to the world that he was the man of all men.

He had to be the best in every sport. Had to catch the biggest buck or trout every time he went hunting. Anything less meant broken bones and bloody backhands for the rest of us.

But he taught us how to hunt, to track our prey. He dragged us to go camping with nothing but a pack of matches and acompass. The fucker was good for shit, but I almost want to thank him now.

Almost.

Tiny brat has a head start, but she can only go so far in those slippers. She wouldn’t change course. She’d run straight, so that’s where I head. I follow the direction I’d seen her last, keeping my footing light. The rules of hunting a deer apply here. Sound might spook her to run.

It takes an impressive amount of time before I spot her. I’m surprised by the distance she managed to put between us. She seems to have stopped to shake dirt from her shoes.

She’s breathing hard, one hand pinching the front of my top and shaking it for a breeze. Caramel brown strands stick to her temples. Her cheeks are pink with exertion. Her big, blue eyes scan her surroundings, skipping right over where I’m crouched behind a thicket.

Brat thinks she’s safe when she blows out a breath and drops back against a thick log nearly as high as she is.

It must be the reason she didn’t keep going. The width alone is the size of me and Daniel. Aside from turning back, the only way out of the small clearing is over the trunk and that’s a risky climb alone.

Mira reaches under my top, brows scrunched in irritation. She fights with something. A second later, she’s dragging her halter over her hips and down her legs. The scrap of fabric is folded into a tiny square and stuffed into the back pocket of her shorts.

I wait a moment longer, letting her think she’s safe. I wait until she’s darting anxious glances back the way she’d come. Until she has her lip caught between her teeth nervously.

Maybe she thinks I left her or can’t find her. Both ridiculous theories. But I let her stew a moment longer.

When her foot starts bouncing, I pluck up four jagged stones. When she glances left, I chuck one over her head. It hits somewhere far behind her with a muffled thump.

Mira straightens and whips around.

I wait three heartbeats before sending a second one to her right.

She yelps and pivots.

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