Page 24 of The Hunted
He turned to face her, even though it was probably a bad idea to egg her on. It would just give her more motivation to try and find out all his secrets. It was a mistake, especially if he needed to deviate from his list. The less eyes on him, the better, but he couldn’t help himself.
“You don’t have to be proper with me. It’s just us girls.” He winked. “Why don’t you speak freely? It’s beneath us to play the ‘ask a question in a certain way to see my response’ game. I have nothing to hide.”
“But don’t you?” she practically growled. “I’m sure there’s some skeletons in your closet you don’t even know you’re hiding.” She closed the distance between them. She was watching his face for slight tells, and oddly enough all he could think about was his reaction to her—or non-reaction, as it were.
He watched the men and a few women in here practically trip over themselves when she walked by. She was pretty in a conventional sense, and if he’d met her in his younger days, she would have found herself under his knife. When he moved on from blondes, brown hair was his next target. Hers was a little lighter than his usual marks, but he’d make an exception for her because she had checked off all his other boxes: small build, anti-social behavior, no real friends, and she always had her nose in a book or a phone, completely unaware of her surroundings.
He continued to stare at Amra. He felt nothing for her but the need to watch that smug smile slip off her face. If this had been Silva sitting so close to him, he’d be tempted to kiss her again, something that both shocked him and made his blood boil. Her taste still lingered on his lips, a mixture of coffee, chocolate, and something that was uniquely her. It was the first time he felt sexual attraction to a woman he hadn’t faked, but his desire to watch the life slip out of her eyes was just as strong.
Silva was a paradox to him, to his senses. He wanted to spend time with her. He wanted to get his hands on her, intimately. He could even picture the way she’d break under his touch, both sexually and violently. It made his cock stir.
“You know, it’s interesting,” Amra murmured, “everyone here is either intimidated by me or wants to fuck me, and yet you don’t fall into either category.”
Santino wanted to say he was shocked. It was intriguing that someone with psychology degrees and human behavior certificates would be so ego-driven and not even realize it.
He was curious which category she actually wanted him in. He shifted in his seat to fully face her and get into her space. The hitch in her breath and slight widening of her eyes before they dipped toward his lips told him it was the latter.
Human behavior was fascinating. She hadn’t removed her hand from where she kept her gun, but she was leaning forward, and her breathing was erratic. If he wrapped his hands around her throat, he’d feel the rapid beat of her pulse that wasn’t from fear, even though on some level she knew to fear him.
It made him think of Silva with her mismatched eyes. She was a ball of fire with a smart mouth. She didn’t give him an inch he didn’t work for, and while he was sure that kiss was a surprise to both of them, there was something calculating about how she moved. She was trying to distract him enough to pickpocket him, but it felt like she was pushing for more—dropping breadcrumbs for him to make the first move and make him think it was his idea.
Most women he was around were either aggressive to the point they spelled out what they wanted him to do to them or shy but not shy enough for him to miss the signals. But neither Amra nor Silva fit into those categories.
“To be intimidated would require a level of fear or insecurity that you don’t particularly entice.” He smirked when her eyes narrowed. “And you’re not my type.” He leaned back when he felt rather than heard Martin’s approach. He had someone else with him on his heels too.
Amra gasped and opened her mouth to speak, but Martin’s booming voice cut her off. “They didn’t let you go home yet, Alvarez?”
He turned his attention toward Amra. “What are you slumming it with him for? He’s not one for entertaining, especially now that he has a little girlfriend.”
Santino’s leg started shaking again. The sound of Martin’s voice was nails on a chalkboard, and him all but shouting his personal business to the room made him want to stab him in the neck with a rusty knife. He knew why he did it. It was a way to make sure he wasn’t in the way with Amra.
“A girlfriend?” Amra leaned back, looking skeptical. “You don’t date.”
Santino fought not to roll his eyes. This was precisely the reason he’d even entertained the idea of Silva. It would keep everyone off his back and out of his business. Because the idea that someone didn’t date or want to settle down seemed questionable to everyone.
“My dating life is no one’s business.” He turned toward, Alexi—Alex? No Allan, who’d come over with Martin, hoping he needed him or Amra for something so the conversation could stop revolving around him. “Did you need something?”
“Ah, yes, Bates is looking for you.”
Santino shot up from his desk, grabbing his files. He didn’t bother to say anything and followed Allan toward Bates’ office. He felt instantly better being out of their orbit, though he knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid Martin for long. He cracked his neck when he reached his boss’s open door and kept his breathing steady. He knew these questions were a formality, but his hope was they had found something, anything really, for him to begin his search, or at least find a pattern so he could navigate this game the Reaper was playing with him.
He hated losing. He didn’t fully understand the rules, but he was still intent on being the last person standing.
The Reaper pulled up the camera footage they had of Santino’s office building. It was almost painfully easy to hack into their server. They wanted to drop hints that Santino had been the one who killed the blonde and mailed the severed finger to his office, but it was too soon. He hadn’t gone home yet for his other present. It wouldn’t do the game any good if law enforcement got to his home first. The Reaper wanted him as a suspect not a victim, and these idiots would see the gift as the killer taunting him—and yes that’s what was happening, but they didn’t need to know that yet.
“Will you figure it out or waste both our time?” the Reaper whispered, wishing there was a way to get into Bates’ office. They wanted to hear the conversations. They wanted to see how Santino steered the questions and answers, no doubt trying to fish out what his boss had learned.
Which was nothing, of course, but they wanted to hear how his mind worked. They were still curious to see if he was going to play the game and go after Sarah Brown, someone on his list, or someone else entirely.
A notification popped up on the Reaper’s laptop, someone was trying to locate the breach. They smiled, knowing their location would ping to a foreign country. The initial location they used had been from a memory Santino should have known, but there was no way to tell unless they were in Bates’ office.
The Reaper looked at their list of names, wanting another but needing to wait. The blonde hadn’t been enough to sate them, and their need for more was growing by the minute.
“You need to pick already, Santino.” They ran their finger across one particular name and smiled. “Pick before I force you to pick.
ChapterEleven
Santino: You can’t kick my ass, princess. But I am willing to negotiate on giving you anything you want from me, for a price of course. Sorry about not getting back to you sooner or reaching out after our kiss. It’s been busy with work and every time I think I can catch a break something else pops up.
