Page 58 of The Hunted
“They’re supposed to protect us and look at what they make us do.” Small hands balled into tight fists. They were bloody from punching the wall of the room they were kept in.
“We need to tell someone,” one of the other kids spoke up. Their voice was a whisper, doing nothing to hide the tears running down their face. They were on their stomach because it hurt to lay on their back.
“We have, they don’t care. They’re all monsters. Every last one of them. We need to find a way to fight back.”
Santino shook the image from his mind, feeling a sense of heaviness fill his lungs. It hurt to breathe even though he still wasn’t sure if those memories had even belonged to him or if his mind had blended in a mix of what he’d seen as an agent and from those he’d hunted. But they felt real now, watching those little girls play, unburdened by the darker parts of life. It made him want to go after that Mark guy even more, especially if he’d been here to watch them, trying to figure out which one he wanted to alter and irreversibly change.
He felt Silva’s hand back on top of his own. The weight of it grounded him. He sucked in a sharp breath as if he’d been swimming underwater and finally had a chance to come up for air. He looked down at their joined hands, marveling at how right it felt seeing them intertwine. He really hoped his need to kill never truly focused on her because right now he couldn’t imagine not being connected to her like this.
He brought their joined hands up to his lips, kissing the back of her hand. He heard her sigh and felt her body scoot closer to his. “What’s that for?” She rearranged herself so her legs were now draped over his lap. He had the urge to pull her even closer, make her straddle his lap instead, but he curbed that need, remembering they were in a park filled with children.
“You want to tell me about why you went on the run?” he asked.
She shook her head and he didn’t pry. She was allowed to have her secrets. He had his own he’d never be able to tell her about.
“I see no complaints about the coffee this time.” He nodded toward her cup, not bothering to hide his smirk when she scowled.
“You are not all-knowing, Santino Alvarez. If you are,” she cut him off when he went to speak, “it’s because you are a stalker and we should really get you some help for that. It’s creepy.” She shuddered.
He barked out a laugh. He saw her lips pull up on the corners but quickly took another sip to hide the smile trying to break through. “You’re never going to give me an inch, are you?” he shook his head, loving that she still gave him shit.
“You’re going to have to work a little harder than that.” She pulled her body closer to his. He dropped his hold on her hand to bring his arm on the back of the bench. It let her sit up under his arm and he marveled at the way his body relaxed at her proximity.
He shouldn’t be surprised at this point how she had control over him, but this was a new facet to how she got his body to respond to her. His breathing slowed, his shoulders relaxed, and he didn’t feel even an echo of the gnawing in his gut anymore. He felt content, sitting with her in the park.
“Thanks,” her voice was barely audible, but he felt it against is neck.
“For what?” He kept his gaze toward the entrance of the park, scanning anyone who walked by or in, looking for anyone who seemed out of place and to see if Mark had kept close.
“For coming. I didn’t mean to pull you from whatever you were doing, but I just needed someone, and that someone happened to be you. I’m glad it was. For your company and helping with that dipshit Mark.”
The fire had returned to her voice when she mentioned Mark, and it scorched his skin. His pulse spiked and whatever calm he had reached had been obliterated by her words. He didn’t do any of this for her gratitude, but hearing her say she needed someone and it was him made his knees weak, a sensation that should have alarmed him considering he was sitting down. It was overshadowed by the way his chest was puffed out at her praise.
He turned toward her, reaching his hand under her chin to tilt her face up toward him. Those mismatched eyes on him was a sucker punch to the gut. Both the blue and brown pulled him in and bathed him in a comforting warmth he wanted to always experience.
“You don’t have to thank me. You need me and I’m there for you, period.” He heard the conviction in his voice. There were no lies, no word games he needed to speak to pretend to blend in and be normal with someone. He wanted to be there for her.
“Can I kiss you now, princess?” He waited for her consent. He needed to taste her, pour into her, and make her understand he wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how this ended between them. If her instincts finally caught on to how dangerous he was, he’d always find a way to watch her.
Even if he needed to wrap his hands around her pretty throat and watch those eyes of hers dim, he’d leave but keep himself close to make sure no one else got the chance to do the things he wanted to do to her.
“Please, Santino.” The words were barely out of her mouth before she was closing the distance.
The kiss wasn’t as crazed as their previous ones but still consuming. Her sigh opened her up to him, and he slipped his tongue inside, teasing and tasting the chocolate and coffee he was growing accustomed to and hungry for.
He groaned as something else clicked into place for him. He understood why men burned the world down for their significant others. He finally understood what need and desire could do to someone, and for the first time in his life, he understood the need to hurt and kill someone who dared to touch what was intimately his.
He was going to find Mark. Find out if he was the Reaper or not, and if he wasn’t, he was going to hunt him down for making Silva have even a single moment of fear.
ChapterTwenty-Five
Silva sighed into Santino’s mouth. Her free hand curling into his shirt to tug him closer. She felt both at peace and ready to climb into his lap and fuck him senseless. The need he enticed in her left her breathless and greedy. She couldn’t seem to get enough of him even as she logically knew she should slow down and pace herself. The reminder of the dream teased her subconscious, and she knew she was looking for something extra to chase the past away.
It happened with Mari. The first time Silva had her nightmare, she practically begged Mari to fuck her—to replace the unwanted touches with those of someone she craved. It was happening now with Santino, though she was sure she’d be this eager to climb in his lap regardless of the dream or not.
She wanted him with a desperation of a starved animal finally finding sustenance.
Pull back.
