Page 43 of Hunted Obsession

“Understandable,” I murmur when it’s clear they expect a response from me.

Victor and Asher share a glance, but I could give a fuck if they think I’m one of them or not. I know I am, without a doubt, not. Thankfully, they don’t ask me for details of any kind. Instead, I watch as Victor walks toward another door. This one, like the others, is painted the same color as a wall in an attempt to hide it.

I suck in a breath, holding it as two men walk from the doorway and then ten girls. If they are women, they are only just women and possibly eighteen years old. This, I did not expect. They’re all wearing bikinis.

My eyes widen as I flick my attention to Asher. He jerks his chin, then lifts his hand and motions for me to follow behind him… through that door. It’s the last place I want to go, but when I dip my head and walk through the door and into the next room, my whole body stills.

I shift my gaze around the space. It is not what I expected. It is not women or even men up on the auction block, which is what I half expect. Instead, there is nobody in the room, just tables with scales, plastic baggies, and pills that look like candy.

They’re fucking packing up drugs here. Turning my head slowly, I look over to Asher. He smirks. “What did you think was going on here?” he asks.

“I honestly had no idea,” I lie.

I know exactly what I thought this shit was, but it was not this. I walk over to one of the tables and feign interest in the product. “The girls out there package?” I ask.

Victor hums. “They’re employees,” he murmurs.

“Employees who will do anything,” Asher says, his insinuations fucking disgusting.

Turning to face the men, I tilt my head to the side. My gaze searches theirs. I wait for them to say something, anything, but they instead stare at me. Pressing my lips together, I try to think of something to ask that doesn’t sound too… interrogating.

Because right now, that’s exactly what I want to do—interrogate some motherfuckers—and I want to know where Ravet is. His name was mentioned. He was supposed to be here, but he wasn’t.

He isn’t fucking here.

I want him dead.

“So you’re selling it in the club?” I ask.

“Along with many other places,” Victor murmurs.

“And you need me?” I ask.

It’s Asher who moves forward, his gaze focused on mine. “We need security set up for this and some other events.”

Events.

That sounds ominous.

And it is.

Because it’s the darker side of things.

“We have some transports happening. You won’t have to do any heavy lifting. We just want to ensure that the product is safe as it travels to its drop-off point.”

The product.

Fuck.

LUCILLE

My high heelsare too loud as they click around the room. I’m not sure who is watching me or what is happening. I’m alsofeeling sick to my stomach. Like I am, without a doubt, in the wrong place.

Slowly, my feet begin to move, and I back up until I hit the door. Reaching for the handle, I tug it open, making sure to keep an eye on the room.

I take a step up and then another backward, then wait until I am able to close the door, and when I do, I turn around and hurry up the rest of the staircase until I reach the second door, and I throw it open before I stumble forward.

Thankfully, the hallway is empty, but I can’t shake the bad vibes that room gave me. Something is happening down there, and I’m too chicken to find out myself. I could stay around and try to, but that sounds scary and almost menacing.

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