Page 31 of The Hunted
He read the note over once more, wondering if the Reaper had been someone from his past, but he couldn’t understand how the connection made sense. He didn’t grow up with what he would call friends. Any acquaintances he had were all means to an end. Once he moved on with his life or they did with theirs, he never thought about them again. There was nothing that lingered in the space of his past. No animosity that would make him a target now.
That you know of.
“Maybe you don’t even know the truth,” he whispered, heading back to the cellar. His mind was riddled with ideas about who the Reaper was and how they were related and intertwined with him, but he kept hitting a brick wall. He felt like the answer was right in front of him but couldn’t see through the thick fog that blocked it.
Denise’s whimper made him look up. The fear in her brown eyes had him smiling. “Welcome, hopefully the temperature is to your liking.” He bowed slightly at the waist. “I like to keep the temperature at seventy-two. Only sociopaths keep it below that or above seventy-seven.” He walked around the table she was strapped to and went over to his work bench, dropping the box down. He’d deal with that part of the game later.
“Wha—what do you want, and what’s that smell?” Denise asked and he chuckled. Her voice shook, but she quickly fortified it as she continued to speak. As if proving she wasn’t terrified would help her.
He glanced over his shoulder and her eyes narrowed. Gone was the fear he’d seen when he first walked in. Her hands were in tight fists.
She was a fighter.
This was going to be fun, but looking at her made him think of Silva. He fully turned to watch Denise, his mind putting Silva in her place. Those mismatched eyes glaring up at him and her skin raw from trying to squeeze out of her chains. She would have fought harder. She would have made him work to subdue her and second guess his ability to knock her down. His cock twitched behind his jeans, and he reached into his pocket to pull his phone out, curious to see what she had texted back.
He pulled off one of his gloves to unlock the phone. His eye twitching at the multiple messages she sent. “If I get over my urge to kill you, we’re going to have to work on this form of communication,” he grumbled under his breath.
Silva: Why am I not surprised
Silva: your floors are filthy
Silva: So you know you
Silva: Even if you manage to win
Silva: You won’t!
Silva: But even if you do
Silva: You’re gonna have to make me get on my hands and knees for you.
Santino groaned. She was going to kill him, slowly if they kept this up. His gaze flicked back to Denise, wondering when she last had someone in her life. He could keep whatever this was between him and Silva, but wasn’t his game plan to pretend to opt for more? If for no other reason than he needed it to blend in with his peers.
“You’re going to help me.” He pointed to Denise and she scoffed. “Now, now don’t be like that, it can be mutually beneficial.” He could use her for the time he had her and peek into her mind when it came to what women needed and wanted in relationships.
Sure he could learn as he went. He could study Silva and those at his job to understand dynamics that he had no real use for, but having the source here could speed up his process.
Santino walked over to the table, impressed when she didn’t flinch and only continued to glare at him. “I have a question for you,” he held up his pointer finger cutting off her protest. “Ahh, ahh, don’t make me be a cliche and have to threaten you. It turns into this whole production and I don’t want that. I said this could be mutually beneficial and I did mean that. However, I don’t have patience on a normal day and there’s things going on that make me have to speed this up.” He let out a sigh and dropped his elbows on the edge of the table. She tried to jerk away but didn’t get very far.
He smiled at her. There was the fear he was looking for. “If you knew what was going on behind the scenes, you’d understand my urgency. So, be a doll and just answer the questions. Okay?” He snapped his fingers. “And don’t lie, I don’t like liars.” He folded his hands under his chin. “What do woman usually want when it comes to relationships?”
“Now I know something is wrong with you. Not only have you decided to come out with me after years of asking, but you keep checking your phone like it’s got the code for world peace on it or something.” Janelle slid closer to Silva. “And I’ve watched you look at your text messages with a goofy grin on your face since you got here. Honestly, it’s freakin’ me out.”
Silva snorted as she looked over at Janelle. Her blonde hair was up in a slicked back ponytail, and she wore a silky blue top and black shorts. Her long legs were crossed as she kept staring at Silva expectantly waiting for her to share the details of her life.
Janelle had worked atRitual Magazinewhen Silva first started but left after five years to start a family and a new business venture. Both things collapsed within three years after she leftRitual. Now she was working as a receptionist at a dentist’s office. But that was only until her new business venture got up off the ground, according to her.
Sure, Janelle.
The two had been somewhat friends, more so because Janelle hadn’t given her much of a choice. She was a social butterfly and never met a stranger. It was both exhausting and intriguing watching her navigate the world. Some days Silva wondered if it was all just pretend, a mask that she wore to hide the fact that she wasn’t happy. If she mingled and filled up space in her life, would that make her feel like she hadn’t failed?
Would that make her feel whole?
“No, but seriously, what made you come out tonight?” Janelle slid closer to hear her, though Silva wasn’t sure that was going to matter. The music was on full blast here. The bass made the couch they were on vibrate. This was supposed to be a low-key lounge, but the second Silva walked in it felt like a club. The dance floor was packed, and she could hardly squeeze herself past anyone to make it to the little section they had cornered off. Silva could barely hear herself think let alone have a full-blown conversation with Janelle who was plastered to her side.
She was already over her misguided attempt at not spending another evening at home, binge-watching some show she’d seen a thousand times.
And maybe not sitting around and waiting for someone to text you back.
