Page 76 of Hunt

“So…Betty told me rumors are doing the rounds,” he tensed his jaw. “Maybe the rumors started with her.”

“Wait. I got more,” I tried to convince him, but he had already decided that Riley was the enemy. “She said the two people who were talking mentioned Vladimir.”

Thunder burned behind his eyes. “And you believe her?”

“Yeah, I mean…” It dawned on me that he believed the story she told me was fabricated to make it look like two people were talking secretly, betraying us, when she was the one betraying us. It was a diversion. No one was speaking quietly about rats and calling the press.

It was all fiction.

She screwed me over.

I felt like a fucking fool. “I’m sorry, Mikky,” I leaned forward and laced my hands together, unable to look him in the eye.

“You let your cock do the thinking,” he pointed out. “Broke the number one rule. Never let women get in the way of business. Number two rule. Never let a woman destroy your senses.”

I felt so ashamed. “So what are we going to do now?” I asked him.

He shrugged his shoulders, then reached for his therapy stick, his expensive cigar, placed it between his teeth, and lit it. “I need to think it over.”

Shame and regret crawled over me as I lowered my head further and rubbed my hair with my fingers. As I glanced up with my head swirling with every conversation I had with Riley, I noticed something silver under the desk. I ran my fingers under the wood to feel the item, then dropped to my knees to take a better look.

I bolted to my feet, eyes wide, and pointed to the space under the desk as soon as I discovered what it was. Mikky pushed his chair out abruptly, crawled under, peeled it off, and held it between his fingers.

He tossed it down on the desk, then placed his hands on his hips and began to pace back and forth, his anger growing with every step. There was a short list of people who it could’ve been because Mikky doesn’t allow just anyone to enter his office. The accountant, the lawyer, Danny Lam, Betty, Freddie, the cleaner andher, Riley. Fuck.

In suppressed rage, Mikky stepped to the door, swung it open, and strode down the hall to the stairs.

“What are you going to do, Mikky?” I called after him, but he was too angry to reply.

I ran after him, hoping like fuck he wasn’t going to do something stupid as every cherished emotions I had for Riley Laws, the selkie in the water dissipated with every breath replaced with something more sinister.

She fucked me over and I was too stupid to see it.

30

My first task whenever I started a shift was to ensure the kitchen was free of trash, food scraps, and the stainless-steel benches were spotless. There were four black plastic bags of rubbish by the door, and I opened the exit into the alleyway, grabbed two bags, and threw them into the large dumpbin.

Parked horizontally at the end of the alleyway was the familiar unmarked police car waiting for me to notice. Damn. I wish Bitchtective would stop doing that. It’s difficult to be discreet when the cops keep turning up to talk to me.

As the window wound down, I started walking toward the vehicle, and I could see her blond hair in the dark. But then something changed. The car engine revved, and the window was buzzed back up again as Bitchtective sped away, and I stood there confused by her behavior.

When I turned back, I slammed into a solid brick, stumbled backward to find an imposing figure towering over me, two black and soulless eyes glaring at me as if I were dirt.

“S-sorry, Mr. Kaiser. I didn’t see you there.” I stepped aside to go around him, and then spotted Ronan standing at the door blocking my way.

The devil had come to collect. This was my end. Something had changed. They knew that I was not who I seemed and the devil was pissed.

I had no choice but to run. I took two steps forward before a hand grabbed my wrist and yanked my back, and my body smacked against his solid body.

“What’s going on?” I asked for fear that I was mistaken. I had to keep up the pretense right until the very end.

“Pat her down,” he ordered Ronan. “Check her pockets.”

Ronan stood behind me, sandwiching me between two towering men. Cologne infiltrated my senses, heat blistered my skin, and guilt burned my soul.

His hot hands brushed along my sides, then over my butt cheeks, then finally stopping at my pants pockets where he discovered a small hard disc. I tried to wrestle against them, but it was no use. They overpowered me, not interested in listening to my pleas, nor were they fooled by my tears.

Ronan’s hand plunged into my pocket, and I swallowed over a lump in my throat as my entire body froze. He took the disc out and held it up to the light. “It’s the same,” he stated dryly, disappointed in me.

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