Page 69 of Hunt

“What is it?” I hesitated, peering in there because this girl acted strangely.

She mouthed something, but when a group of students walked past on the path, chatting, she dipped back further into the bushes, still with her hand inside her bag.

I followed her, and once she was sure it was okay, she opened the bag wider so I could see an object wrapped in blue fabric. “It’s a gun. A handgun.”

An exhilarated gasp escaped my mouth, and she shrank down in horror at how loud I was. “Shhh. Oh my god. No one can know about this,” she whispered.

“You did? Oh my gosh. Let me have a look,” I was about to plunge my hand into her bag when she pulled away from me.

“Two hundred dollars. Cash,” she proclaimed, terrified someone might hear.

“I need to see it first,” I whispered. “Before I pay. I need to try it out to make sure it works.”

“It works. Trust me,” she hissed impatiently. It was clear that she wasn’t impatient with me, but with the situation.

“Um, Cheetos, I’m not going to take two hundred out of my bank account for a gun that I don’t know if it works,” I told her.

She sighed, bereaved. “Okay, one hundred.”

“Cheetos, Kat, seriously, I need to try it out first,” I stressed.

“Forget it,” she snapped, taking the gun from her bag and shoving it at me. “Take it. Pay me later. I don’t want it in my bag anymore because it’s freaking me out.”

“Oh my gosh,” I panicked, snatching it from her and shoving it in my bag. “Where did you get it from?”

“Make it fifty,” she replied, stepping away from me as if it were suddenly made of poison because I was now the dangerous one.

“Thanks,” I called after her as she dropped her head down and walked quickly away. I stood alone, wondering what to do with the weapon in my bag. Was it loaded? Did it have the safety cap on?

The only option was to head back to my dorm room to study it privately and then take it with me tonight when I have to plant the bugs for Bitchtective for protection.

Feeling the gun's added weight in my bag, I wanted to get rid of it fast, so I ran back to my dorm room. Once inside, I discreetly checked that the camera was covered over the blind before I took the gun out of my bag and removed the fabric. Then, I searched social media for instructions on how to use it.

But the question plaguing me as I checked to see if it was loaded was: Where did Cheetos get it from?

***

With two tiny devices in my pants pocket, I arrived for my shift at the club, nervous as hell, as if everyone could tell that I was guilty and up to something, even when I hadn’t done anything. Yet.

My hand patted my pocket throughout my shift to ensure the bugs hadn’t fallen out. And when it was time for me to push the dinner trolley to Ronan and Mikael upstairs, I had to calm my racing heart by taking deep breaths.

I stepped out of the elevator and pushed open the first office door. “Ronan,” I whispered, “I mean…Mr. Byrne. Your dinner is here.”

Ronan swung the door open and stood over me, frightening me. “Remember, don’t say anything about what happened last night, will you?” he warned, brushing the back of his hand against my side.

“Absolutely not,” I promised, handing him the silver tray with the covered plate, hoping he hadn’t noticed how much I was trembling.

He tilted his head to the side, strong eyeing me. “Are you okay?” Damn, he noticed me acting weirdly. Calm your shit, Riley.

“Yes, I’m fine.” I nodded my chin toward Mr. Kaiser’s door. “He makes me nervous.”

“Oh,” he declared quietly. Yeah, he’s starved of warmth unless you’re a wealthy, high-paying member, then he manages to crack a smile. He treats me well. He saved my life.”

“Then he must have a heart somewhere,” I chuckled nervously, eager to do my job and leave.

“He does. He’s a good man,” Ronan said under his breath as if trying to convince me.

I hadn’t seen a kind side of Mikael ever. Even back before he was arrested, I hadn’t noticed him being an altruistic figure. I viewed him as the dangerous sidekick of my foster father, and therefore, I tended to keep away from him.

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