Page 34 of The Hunted
Silva: though I’m almost regretting it. It’s too peoplely in here
Santino’s eye twitched, but his smile widened at the fact that she wasn’t too big on people either, which only made him wonder if she wore a mask like him when she was out in the world, trying to fit into a mold society deemed appropriate. Where she was just pretending for the sake of fitting in, he needed to pretend for the sake of not being committed or sent to prison.
Did he even get a glimpse of the real Silva Hunt?
He remembered the slight accent she had, how it came and went in waves. He hadn’t figured out if it was real, if the ebb and flow was a product of it never fully going away or if it was fake and her brain had forgotten or was so exhausted with who she was trying to be that she never kept up with it.
His phone buzzed again and his smile died.
Silva: Hey do you know an Amra Benson?
“What the fuck are you doing, Amra?” he grounded out. There was no way this was a simple coincidence. The world was small, but it couldn’t have been that small. Had she been watching him and wondering about the girl Martin had boasted about?
Santino: I’m sure that question is for a reason and not some random thought that popped into your head. Is your old friend Amra?
Whatever internet search he pulled up on Silva hadn’t linked the two of them together.
Silva: Interesting that you didn’t answer the question
Silva: but she’s not my old friend
Silva: she just happens to know my old friend
Silva: and either this Amra Benson knows another Santino or it’s you
Silva: and I can’t tell if she actually hates you or is secretly harboring feelings for you
Silva: And considering you’ve had your tongue down my throat.
Silva: I figure I should have asked at some point
Silva: You are single? Yes?
Santino cursed under his breath. What the hell was she doing there? What he’d known about Amra suggested that she would rather stay home with her nose in a book than go out and mingle with people she viewed beneath her. Had he misjudged her? Could she have truly been the Reaper, and if she was, what did she want with Silva?
His grip on his phone tightened, and his body warmed at the thought of the Reaper getting anywhere near Silva. She was his to do with as he pleased. If anyone was going to watch the light drain from her eyes, it was going to be him.
“Oh, I get it now,” he mumbled under his breath.
This was possession he felt coursing through his body. He hadn’t viewed Silva as anything more than a means to an end, well, and to figure out whatever pull she had over him. But now that there was a threat that someone could take her away, he felt like she belonged to only him. He didn’t like that Amra was not only in her ear probably filling her head with doubt, but if Amra was the Reaper, how safe was she and how the hell did she find out about Silva?
“Martin,” he groaned, and it clicked so fast, he wondered how he missed it originally. Martin and Amra had been or were intimate. The chuckle that slipped free echoed around him. “My, my, my how the mighty have fallen.” Amra might have liked the attention she received from the men and the few women in their department, but that was as far as she was willing to go.
Or so I thought.
He made a mental note to ask Martin about his time with Amra, maybe he’d get more information out of him that could either tie her to the Reaper or officially drop her from his list of suspects.
Not that he had many.
Santino: Yes, I’m single and as you so eloquently put it, since I’ve had my tongue down your throat I can assume you’re single too? If that is the Amra that I work with I’m glad I’m not the only one to pick up on the hate/like vibes she gives off. Truthfully I don’t think she likes anyone but it can’t be the same Amra. How small would our world be if it is?
Silva: You’d be surprised
Silva: how small the world really is
Silva: Is anyone really a stranger?
Silva: how many people have you forgotten about
