Page 79 of Hunted, Season Three

Iknew she’d come sooner rather than later for me.

She always has.

She’s always backed her precious, overgrown child’s decisions.

Enabled them.

Mentally.

Emotionally.

Physically.

Financially.

Beloved baby demon wants for nothing.

Correction.

Wantedfor nothing.

The only thing I’m sure he wants now is to be alive and stalking versus ripped to shreds by bears.

Or wolves.

Or hungry, horny vultures that start at his mutilated balls first.

“I want her extracted!”

Slight thrumming in my head convinces me to momentarily keep my eyes closed.

Shield my face further with my shoulder.

Pretend the drugs are keeping me dormant and docile the way they used to.

“I want her extracted.Now!”

Mumbles of rebuttal are faintly heard this time.

They’re low and unclear.

Seemingly uncombative but then again everyone in comparison to that Aristocunt is nonhostile.

“The weather?!” she hisses, words eerily echoing around me, sending a chill up my spine.

More muttering.

“No!That’s unacceptable!”

There’s barely a beat before she’s yelling again.

“No!I wanna talk to the fucking pilot!”Audible stomping can be heard.“We’ll see if he doesn’t change his mind for the right price!”

Slamming of a door – or what I envision is a door – definitively precedes a meek male voice stating, “She’s gone.”

Much like the shrill shrieks, I recognize the mousey masculine one.

Curtis.

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