Page 111 of When He Hunts

Luna glanced up from her desk. All of her students had cleared out, and she’d just been finishing the final details on the programs for Friday night’s events. She hadn’t even heard her door open.

But Grayson stood there. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his black pants. His eyes were on her.

Luna exhaled. “That business was a little too high risk for me. I came back to teaching.” For a time.

“Heard that you had some offers to sing at clubs in Miami and Key West.” He ambled closer to her. “Harris Croft and his wife told me—just two days ago—that they were hoping you’d change your mind and come work for them.”

She shut her laptop, pushed back her chair, and rose to her feet. “I’m afraid Key West holds too many painful memories for me.” The school day was over. She should get going. Head back to her empty home.

Two months.Two months had passed since that last, terrible night.

Two months that had left her heart broken.

“Understood.” He stopped in front of her desk. “We found the trophies.”

Her brows lowered.

“Marcus’s? We’ve kept the details from the media because we’re still trying to ID all the vics. But I searched all the boats that Marcus owned. Found pay dirt at one docked in Pensacola Beach. In the bedroom of his yacht, I discovered his mementos. Realized I should search all his boats because of his damn obsession with chumming waters. Figured he must have killed plenty of his enemies out at sea, and I was right.”

Her stomach rolled.

“Wanted to give you that news personally. Wanted to check on you and…” An exhale. “I actually wanted to hire you.”

He could not be serious. “Excuse me?”

Grayson reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. “I’ve got this friend…A real melancholy asshole—uh, I mean guy. He lost the only woman he’s ever loved, and he just hasn’t been the same since she left his life.”

Her fingers were shaking when she reached for the card.

James Turner.

An address was neatly printed beneath his name.

“Thought he could use a little sunshine. You know, of the singing telegram variety. I can promise, you won’t witness a murder if you stop by his place.”

She dragged her gaze off the card and up to Grayson’s face.

“Though you might just come face to face with a dead man.” A murmur from him. “The choice is yours, though. Maybe you don’t want the job. Maybe you changed your mind in the last two months. Maybe it was the heat of the moment and adrenaline and a thousand other things making you feel the way you did.”

Luna shook her head.

“Is that a no? You don’t want the job? Completely understood.” He reached for the card.

She snatched it back. “I think I can handle one final job.”

“This friend…he may be leaving town fairly soon. He has plans to open a night club. He’ll probably need a top-notch singer for a place like that, though. If you’ve got any ideas on who he can hire, be sure to tell him.” A faint smile curved his lips. “Tell him that he’s one lucky bastard, too. Fresh starts and second chances are hard to come by.” With that, Grayson turned and walked away.

He hadn’t even reached the door when she blew past him.

“Luna?”

She didn’t stop. How could she? She had a very important job to do.

She might not come.

Ronan stared through the massive window and out at the night. A temporary home. A condo in a high-rise that belonged to a friend, of sorts.

She might not come.Two months had passed. He’d thought about her every single day, but maybe Luna had changed her mind. Maybe she’d decided she didn’t really love a grumpy asshole who knew too much about death. Maybe she’d already found some other lucky bastard who wasn’t so well acquainted with darkness.

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