Page 49 of Hunt

Those eyes followed me as I tried to steady my hands. I took the cover from the trolley and walked with it, praying that I didn’t drop it. Once it was out of my hands and on his desk, I walked briskly to the door, and even with my back turned, I knew he was watching me.

Once I was free from the intensity of his sauna, I cooled my breath and wheeled the empty trolley to the elevator. Ronan might be my Simmering Summer, but Mikael was my Smoldering Fall, a sea of reds and oranges that, on first impressions, looked hot but were cold to the touch.

No. Wait. He wasn’tmyanything—just a Smoldering Fall.

19

Iwoke about 8 AM, stiff as a rock, and rubbed myself in the shower thinking of Riley, my selkie, swimming naked in the forest pool. It’s fucking torture not being allowed to touch her. When I pinned her down on the baseball diamond, I wanted to fuck her so bad and when she delivered my meal last night, I tried to bend her over my desk and fuck her until she couldn’t walk.

But I couldn’t. Mikael had the last say, and if he ordered me not to touch her, then I won’t touch her. But fuck it was like dangling a carrot in front of a starving man, then whipping it away when he tried to grab it.

I didn’t want anyone else. No other girl appealed to me. And I’ve tried to create some heat by looking at the pretty dancers when they practice on stage, but I get nothing. The sweet scent of perfume or a flirtatious smile could get a rise out of me before I saw the selkie, but now I was useless, virtually a monk, wanking off in private while wearing a disguise of virtuousness in the public.

Honestly, I didn’t know how long I could keep this up before I cracked one way or another. I wrapped my towel around my waist and walked down the hallway past Gunner’s closed door and into the living room as the morning sun streamed through the window.

I cast my eye on the street for the metallic blue BMW as I hadn’t seen it since I approached the goons, offering caramelized popcorn. I doubted they were scared off that easily, and more likely returned in a different vehicle. But there weren’t any vehicles currently parked on the street that raised alarm bells for me.

I was about to head back to my bedroom when a figure in the apartment building opposite me caught my eye. It was just two seconds before they vanished into the room's shadows. Unless I was mistaken, someone held a long-lens camera and pointed it at my apartment.

It could be a bird watcher, or it could be your average pervert watching people in the privacy of their homes. Or it could be the cops or it could be the fucking Russians stalking me. There was only one way to find out.

I had a class in a couple of hours, but time was on my side to snoop around that apartment block to see who or what was taking pictures. I headed back to my bedroom, dried my body with a towel, and slipped on my sweats and sneakers to make it look like I was heading out for a run—except I was going out with a Glock tucked into my pocket.

I tapped on Gunner’s door and a croaky voice mumbled something, so I opened it to find a fucking pigsty, clothes dumped everywhere, stinking lime stale cologne and cigarettes.

“Bro, I need you to do something for me,” I stated evenly.

“What?” All I saw was the top of his dark head, messy hair, sleepy eyes.

“I’m checking out the building across the road.” I showed him my gun, and he immediately sat up to put some clothes on.

“The Russians?” he asked excitedly.

“Not sure. Could be nothing. Could be something. But I need you to watch through the binoculars, and I’ll signal you if I need backup,” I told him.

His gun was resting on the bedside drawers with the barrel pointing at his pillow, so I hoped like fuck he had the safety cap on. I waited in the living room for him to emerge, then left, taking the elevator to the ground floor.

I pulled the grey hood over my head and started jogging down the pavement toward the end of the street, then turned left. I was careful to notice if anyone was following me without seeming on edge or nervous. Instead, I kept my cool, but I would check behind me now and again. But it was busy already, with plenty of people heading to work in their cars or walking.

I came to the alleyway that led to the back of the building and ran down it, sidestepping dog shit and vomit, until I came to the fire exit and tried the handle but it was locked. With no other option, I ran to the front of the apartment building, back onto my street again, then slipped inside with the automatic glass doors as a couple was coming out. Inside the foyer, I found the stairwell and ran up four flights, so I was one floor below where the cameraman was.

I could hear footsteps echoing down the stairs, but they were two flights above my target. Once up onto the correct floor, I gathered my bearings to figure out which room it was and then pressed my ear against it. I could hear nothing and tried the handle, but it was locked.

Making my hand into a tight fist, I pounded on the door. I listened out for footsteps, which seemed to be only one pair. Good. I was dealing with a single person.

As soon as the door opened on the chain, I pointed my gun at his forehead, and his pupils dilated, his mouth dropped open as soon as he realized who was standing there.

“Open up,” I demanded.

He groaned, shut the door to release the chain, but didn’t open the door again. As far as I could see, the only way to get out would be the fire exit, down a ladder. I stood back and started kicking the door, hoping he wasn’t armed. It took two powerful strikes with my foot before the door was thrown open, and I ducked behind the wall for cover in case he fired a shot.

I waited two painstakingly long minutes and when there was no response I couldn’t hear a damn sound. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and when I checked it, it was Gunner.

Gunner: He’s escaping down the fire exit ladder.

Good. That allowed me to look inside, but I was disappointed when I stepped in. It was empty. I mean…no furniture, no trace that anyone lived there. I walked to the window and looked down the street to find the guy racing quickly down the ladder with his large camera on his back.

Me: The apartment is empty.

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