Page 55 of Hunt

“It’s probably the most excitement I’ve had in years,” she stated dryly, and I wondered if she was joking.

She was an introvert and didn’t like people much, so I doubted she had that much drama in her life. But her expression’s default setting was blank, so sometimes it was hard to gauge her emotions.

Her dark eyes were fixed on my phone as I turned it on and wiped the dust off the screen. “My last one broke,” I reminded her, since she took great interest in it. And I can’t go too long without one.”

She nodded thoughtfully, chewing her bottom lip, flipping the page in the textbook, then glanced up at my phone again. “So, he wanted to know who you broke your glasses and of course, the phone, but…was it those jock losers?”

I wasn’t sure if I could trust her completely, and I didn’t want to drag her into my mess anyway. Wedged between two sides, I had to be loyal to myself first and look after my little brother's welfare.

“I went into the basement under the library looking for Gunner and those two ‘jock losers’ as you call them came in and were unhappy with me being there. I think they thought I was snooping.”

It was a lie. I went into the basement, knowing Gunner wasn’t there because he said he was out of town. And it did that by snooping around and planting hidden cameras for Bitchtective. I regret telling Ronan I found a hidden camera in my room because I suspected Gunner had put it there. But I had to play the victim so he’d feel sorry for me, which gave me the upper hand.

I assumed a device was planted in the back of the phone, so I didn’t bother opening it, but I’d have to get Gunner’s and Ronan’s numbers tonight when I see them. All of this bullshit to please Bitchtective who’ll eagerly track my messages and calls. It was so stupid. Gunner and Ronan were never going to tell me when they would organize a hit or some other illegal activity, so it was a waste of time, and I suspected the real reason the bug was there was to control me.

“So, they broke your glasses and phone?” she persisted, cross-examining me.

“I dropped the phone and my glasses were knocked off,” I told her, but I could tell that she didn’t believe me. An ominous cloud passed over me, and the temperature seemed to descend, making my skin prickle. “Gunner is a loose cannon.”

She nodded in agreement. “I noticed. Kaisers are not nice people. You should watch your back in that club.”

“They have a reputation,” I told her. “But they’re not interested in me.” She shot me a horrified look as if I were stupid, so I corrected what I was trying to convey. “I mean…they’re not interested in me in that way. I’m not their enemy, nor someone for them to be concerned about, am I?”

“I guess,” she sighed doubtfully, then shot me a sharp, knowing look that was out of character for her.

She didn’t believe me, but it didn’t matter because it was my life, not hers. And she didn’t have both the police and the criminals on her back, like I did.

“Anyway, let’s work on that assignment together,” I stated, eager to move away from this topic.

She agreed and pointed at the page number in her textbook as I hauled out the thick text, pleased that we were getting back to schooling. There was nothing like science to bring us back down to earth again. I had a marine biology class in an hour, one of my favorite classes. We studied live specimens in glass tanks to prepare us for our trip to the ocean next month, where we’ll be scuba diving.

My mind drifted to the depths of the ocean and the creatures that lived within, and it uplifted my heart, making me smile. Water was my happy place, but diving deep into wild water and exploring was a different level altogether. It was exhilarating yet like a caressing and therapeutic spa for the soul.

Ronan’s handsome, clean-shaven face entered my mind. Water was the Irishman’s element, and when I think of wild waterways, Ronan wasn’t too far away in my mind. We met in the freshwater spring in the middle of the forest, and I wished he stayed an enigma, a man who appeared from the foliage with no name, past, or connection to the Kaisers.

Cheetos said something, and I shook myself out of my little dream state. “Sorry?”

“Do you have notes on this?” she asked, pointing to the page in her textbook. “The tutor was supposed to go over it last week, and you know, I don’t like going to that class because there are too many people in it.”

“Oh, sure,” I breathed, hunting through my bag for my notebook. “Here.” I handed it to her, hoping she could read my scribbly writing. “I’m a fast writer and often miss words, so hopefully you can read it.”

She pushed her glasses back on her nose, lowered her head, and perused my notes. “You seem a million miles away,” she mumbled as she picked up her pen and copied my notes.

“I was,” I chuckled. “Thinking about the good ol’ days.” I was lying again.

Lying had become my norm, but with every lie, there was another lie to cover it, and sometimes, I’d forget what the original was. This was why I avoided making friends: It was exhausting retracing my lies to ensure I didn’t trip up on fabrications I’d forgotten I said in the first place.

“In Luton?” she pressed without looking up from her notes.

“Yep,” I declared. “Good ol’ Luton. I miss that town.”

I couldn’t recollect telling her that I was from a small country town called Luton, hundreds of miles away. But that was my problem. I sometimes lose track of what I said to whom. A problem that wouldn’t exist if I were living my life as Annika, not fake Riley Laws.

“It’s a good place to be,” she yawned, then slipped her fingers under her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “A million miles away.”

“It is.”

“How did you become interested in marine biology when you come from a small country town?” This was a reasonable question, but it annoyed me that she asked it.

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