Page 127 of The Hunt

It was more than just the physical scars Jessica left behind—it was the way her cruelty had shaped how he saw the world, how he saw people. How he saw himself, too.

“I think you felt like you never got any real justice when it came to her, especially after the way she tortured you for so long,” I said, searching his face. “That’s why you’re so relentless about seeking your own idea of justice, right? You don’t want other bad people to get away with the stuff they do. You don’t want them to walk away unpunished.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s right,” he muttered.

My brows knitted. “Do you have any idea what happened to Jessica after she got out?” I asked. “Did she ever try to track you down?”

“There was a permanent restraining order in place. She couldn’t go anywhere near my family.”

“So she’s just out there, living her life? Free as a bird?” I asked, anger flaring in my chest.

“No, I don’t think so.” Rhett steeled his jaw and sat up straighter. “For a long time, I thought that was exactly what was happening, and I was fucking furious. But just after I finishedthe final trial for The Wild Hunt, my dad said something to all of the new members. It was a comment about certain people getting what they deserve during the Hunt. He looked right at me when he said it, with a weird expression on his face, so I got the impression he was hinting at something.”

“You think he arranged for Jessica to end up in the Hunt after she got out of prison?”

“Yeah.” He dipped his chin in a curt nod. “That’s exactly what I think.”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“I did, afterwards. But he said he didn’t know what I was talking about,” Rhett replied. “I guess he can’t admit it, because then he’d also be admitting that the Patriarchs can bring in whoever they want as players, overriding the regular recruitment process. And none of them want to admit to any sort of corruption, becausethatwould open a whole fucking can of worms.”

“Like all the stuff Jake was telling us about,” I murmured.

“Yup.” Rhett sighed and ran a hand across his face again. Then he frowned. “Sorry to change the subject so abruptly, but I just thought of something.”

“What is it?” I asked, tilting my head.

“Talking about my dad just now… it reminded me ofyourdad. He worked for Peter Jennings, didn’t he?”

“Yes. Still does.”

“What does he do?”

“He’s a civil engineer. He has a whole team working under him.”

“So he could know about the shit that goes on here, then,” Rhett said in a low voice. “He could be the one designing, building, or refurbishing all the stuff on the island.”

I sat up straight, heart suddenly thumping again. I’d been under so much stress over the last two days, my mind whirlingthrough so many things, that it hadn’t even occurred to me to consider my father’s potential involvement in the Hunt. But Rhett was right. Dad worked here on Wildercliff Island for a few weeks—sometimes even a few months—every single year. He had to knowsomething.

“You’re right. Maybe he could help us in some way,” I said. “Although… I have no idea how.”

Rhett got up and rifled through his bag, pulling out his cell phone a moment later. “It’s only half past nine, so he’s probably still awake,” he said. “I think you should call him. Tell him you’re here. See what he has to say for himself.”

I stared at the phone. “You get a signal here?”

“Yeah. It’s only jammed on the hunting grounds, just in case one of the players somehow ends up with a phone,” he said. He held his cell out to me. “Here. Call him.”

I swallowed hard. Then I took a deep breath and dialed my father’s number. It rang out the first time, but when I tried again, he finally answered, sounding sleepy. “Hello?”

“Hi, Dad. It’s me,” I said, switching the call to speakerphone so Rhett could listen in.

“Honey!” My father sounded wide awake now. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you all day!”

I frowned, confused. We didn’t talk on the phone very often—both of us had always preferred texting. “Why?”

“I got a call from a friend of yours this morning. Tessa something-rather. She said she received a strange phone call from you a few nights ago, and she hasn’t seen or heard from you since,” he said. “She tracked me down and called me to ask if I knew where you’d gone. She’s very worried. Relentless, too. I think she’s called me five times now.”

“Oh.” Another hard lump appeared in my throat as I thought about my beautiful, sweet friend. “That definitely sounds like something Tessa would do.”

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