Page 29 of Hunted By Valentine

Ruby’s expression tightens. “Selfish? Maybe. But isn’t survival a bit selfish too? If you were fighting for your life, wouldn’t you do whatever it takes?”

The pretend detective stands taller now, her hands clenched at her sides. “Surviving doesn’t mean you have to destroy others in the process. There’s a line you don’t cross.”

Ruby leans in closer, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. “And who decides where that line is? You? The system? The people who never had to face the same choices I did?”

Miss Latrell falters, her bravado wavering as Ruby’s intensity seeps into her defenses. “I… I just think there are consequences for every action. You can’t justify hurting innocent people.”

The air in the room is electric, the students on the edge of their seats. I lean forward slightly, watching the interplay with keen interest. “Mrs. Simmons, imagine yourself in this situation. Would you have made the same choices? Could you justify them?”

Ruby’s breath hitches as a flicker of vulnerability shines in her eyes. “I-I don’t know,” she admits, her voice wavering. “But I understand why someone might feel driven to those extremes.”

The classroom goes silent, the weight of her admission hanging in the air. Miss Latrell seizes the opportunity, her voice steadier now. “So you’re saying you would understand, but not agree?”

“Understanding doesn’t mean approval,” Ruby replies quickly, her hands now gripping the desk. “It means I see the shades of gray. The world isn’t just black and white; sometimes, you have to navigate the murky waters.”

I can’t help but feel a swell of pride at her articulation. She’s echoing arguments fromThe Psychology of Crime and Power, my own book, and it strikes a chord deep within me. Is she trying to beat me at my own game? The thought sends a thrill through me.

I watch as Miss Latrell’s expression shifts, recognizing the validity of Ruby’s argument. The tension in the room morphs, becoming a mix of admiration and discomfort. “Okay,” she finally concedes, her voice softer. “But what happens when you lose control? When those murky waters swallow you whole?”

Ruby meets her gaze, her expression unyielding. “Then you drown. But at least you went down fighting.”

The classroom buzzes with murmurs; the discussion igniting a fire within them. I take a step back, letting the students absorb the depth of Ruby’s performance. She’s straddling the line between fiction and reality, and I sense the power she holds in this moment.

As the exercise wraps up, I watch Ruby closely, her confidence radiating despite the vulnerability beneath the surface. She’s transformed, owning the role with a fierce intensity that captivates the room.

Chapter 12

The Prey

There’s an almost unnatural pep in my step as I step out of the classroom, doing my best to shake off the intensity of Valentine’s class. It’s like shedding a second skin, one that’s too tight and restrictive. I know it’s the role play I shed, but with the way he looks at me, it’s easy to forget it’s not real.

My steps quicken as I walk through the hallway, and my pulse picks up. I’m excited, happy even. Jack’s finally out of the hospital, and I can’t wait to see him.

A smile spreads across my face, one I don’t have to fake or control. I rush through the building, my movements quick and purposeful. The only thing I care about is getting out of here to be with Jack.

As I push the door open and step outside, the cold air hits me, and I greedily breathe it in. The busy sounds of people talking and walking and the sounds of the campus are becoming my new favorite soundtrack.

Every day I’m here, I’m thankful to be away from the oppressive atmosphere of Michael’s house. The only sounds there are my screams, the sound of my body hitting the floor or the wall, and the sound of my heart breaking a little more every day. Or the sound of the TV when he isn’t home.

Right now, none of that matters. My smile stays in place as I rush down the steps, heading for the car, waiting for me as always. I’m sure the excitement and happiness I feel are clear for anyone to see, and for once, I don’t want to hide how I’m feeling.

Luckily, traffic isn’t as bad as it is some days, and it barely takes an hour before I step into the high-rise building, my reflection rippling in the polished surfaces around me. Every time I’m here, I’m impressed by the polished, sleek exterior. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was normal for a bachelor pad to look like this. I know better, though.

The doorman gives me a nod in recognition, even dipping his head. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Simmons.”

I smile. “Good afternoon.” When he turns like he’s considering escorting me over to the elevators and waiting with me, I shake my head, and he dips his head again, staying put as I make my way over to the elevators.

Jack’s apartment is on the thirtieth floor, so there’s plenty of time for my anticipation to climb in sync with the elevator. The doors slide open with a soft chime, revealing a hallway of muted grays and blacks.

I approach his door, noting the lack of personal touches—no welcome mat, no decorations. Just sleek minimalism that whispers of danger. I knock, three sharp raps that echo in the silence. There’s a pause, then the sound of multiple locks disengaging. The door swings open, revealing Jack’s familiar grin.

“Took you long enough, Rubes,” he teases, pulling me into a hug. I melt into his embrace, inhaling the comforting scent of his cologne mixed with something distinctly Jack.

“Some of us have actual obligations,” I retort, but there’s no bite to my words.

I step inside, immediately noticing how the heavy curtains are drawn tight despite the afternoon sun outside. Where Jack always used to keep the curtains open, saying he loved looking over the city at night, they’re now closed.

Noticing my gaze, he shrugs. “Yeah, well.” For a moment, he looks like he’s struggling with himself, but then he moves over to the closest windowand draws the curtains back. He doesn’t say anything else, and I don’t need him to.

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