Page 44 of The Hunt

Safe.The word felt loaded. I’d never felt less safe than I had last night. But then, in the aftermath, Rhett was there. Protecting me, helping me, taking charge like it was second nature.

I was still beyond confused about it all. Why on earth did he help me? The guy utterly despised me. He’d made that very clear. Especially now that he’d admitted thathewas the one whobroke into my old dorm, smashed up my laptop, and left that threatening message on the mirror.

I let out a shaky breath, leaning back against the plush headboard.

Rhett Sinclair. What the hell was I supposed to think of him now? He was infuriating, arrogant, and an absolute asshole most of the time. And yet, he’d stepped up to take care of me when I needed it. He’d supported me when my entire world felt like it was collapsing, even stayed with me until I fell asleep last night. And damn, if he wasn’t the hottest guy I’d ever met…

Stop!

My head dropped back against the headboard as I groaned softly. What was wrong with me? One second I was mentally cursing him out for being such a prick, and the next I was thinking about his stupidly sharp jawline and those intense eyes of his.

Then again, none of that really mattered, because I had much bigger things to grapple with. The events of last night were still raw, sitting heavy in my chest like a cold stone.

The break-in. The man, who I was still certain was Jake. The way he’d pinned me down...

My hand trembled slightly as I dragged it through my hair. The terror from last night was rushing back now, making my skin crawl, but mixed in with it was something darker.

Guilt.

It was stupid—ridiculous even—but I couldn’t shake the thought. Did I somehow manifest the attack with my fantasies?

I hated myself for even thinking it. I’d always had these fantasies. The things I’d never dare say out loud. They were nothing like the horrible reality of last night, and yet some twisted part of me still couldn’t help but wonder.

I groaned and pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, as if I could physically block it all out. It wasn’t my fault. I knewthat. But knowing it and believing it were two very different things, weren’t they?

I exhaled shakily and lowered my hands, forcing myself to focus on the present. I was still here in one piece, still breathing, and for now, I was safe. Whatever Rhett’s reasons, he’d made damn sure of that.

I looked over at the clock on the other nightstand. It was 1:08 p.m.

“Damn,” I muttered. I’d slept half the day away.

Today was Thursday, which meant I had a two-hour lecture in the morning; one I’d obviously missed by now. That was okay, though. The professor always posted her lecture recordings online, so I could catch up later.

I picked up my phone and saw a voicemail notification. It was the detective I’d spoken to last night, letting me know I could come into Havenport PD anytime today to give my formal statement about last night.

Now was as good a time as any.

After I’d showered and dressed, I headed to the police department and picked up my temporary visitor badge at the front desk. A young officer greeted me and escorted me down a hallway to an interview room.

Detective Harris, the one I’d spoken with last night, entered a few moments later. “Ms. Marlowe. Thanks for coming in. How are you feeling?”

I clasped my hands tightly in my lap. “My mouth hurts like hell, but I’m still alive.”

He gave me a faint smile. “I know this can’t be easy, but it’s important that we get a detailed account from you about what happened last night. We can go as slow as you want, and if it starts to hurt too much to talk, we can take a break until you’re ready to continue.”

“Thanks.”

“Before we begin your statement, I wanted to let you know what we’ve discovered so far.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Did you find the guy?”

Please tell me you found Jake lurking in the bushes outside Ashcroft with a bite mark on his arm,I silently prayed.

Harris shook his head. “No, unfortunately not. But here’s the good news—we found a partial fingerprint on the side of your desk. It’s in blood, so we’re assuming it’s from the man who attacked you.”

“It could be Rhett’s fingerprint, couldn’t it? Seeing as the two of them fought.”

“We already asked him to come in earlier and submit a print profile, and it wasn’t a match, so I’m quite confident that it belongs to your attacker.”

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