Page 94 of The Hunted
“So invested in someone,” he continued. “He usually discards people as quickly as he shows them off. It’s cute when you think about it. I’ve never seen him so sprung.”
Silva looked up at him, confused. It was an odd way to phrase things. She looked him over, trying to remember how overly confident he seemed when they first met. He’d been the same way when they met up at Luther’s too. He had a devil-may-care attitude about him and an over-inflated self-importance, but now he seemed off.
It was hard to describe. He physically looked the same, but his shoulders were bunched up and close to his ears. There was a slight twitch in his eyes, and his knuckles were turning white from the grip he had on the chair.
Maybe it’s because of the case?
Multiple serial killers on the loose had to be weighing on him. It would weigh on anyone.
“Whelp,” Silva started, stuffing the last of her things in her bag. After today she wouldn’t bring so much crap out with her. “Sorry I ruined boys’ night out.” She made an attempt at a joke. “But I feel like this isn’t a conversation you should be having with me. If you’re worried I’m distracting him from anything, maybe you should bring that up with him.” She shrugged, hoping this would be the end of the conversation.
“Boys’ night out?” He chuckled. “Not exactly. But don’t worry your pretty little head. You didn’t ruin anything.” An unspokenyetseemed to linger in the space between them. She fought to keep her body still when a cool shiver slithered down her back. She couldn’t explain it, but everything about this encounter felt like she was seconds away from being kidnapped. She kept glancing at the door, hoping Santino would waltz right on in and put some space between her and his partner.
“I’m just a little curious is all. I want to see how this all plays out.” He ducked his head and his eyes narrowed. He looked like a predator who had just seen his prey cross his path.
“How what plays out?” She threw her bag over her shoulder. She grabbed her laptop and pulled that up toward her chest, like a shield. This guy was making her nervous. The way he was leaning over the chair, staring at her as if he had some secret knowledge he couldn’t wait to hold over her. She wanted to run out the door and not look back, but her body stayed put.
This café was the safer option, even though she was starting to feel like she was locked in a cage. Leaving meant there was a chance he could follow her. She didn’t care how irrational she was feeling, she didn’t trust him.
He went to open his mouth but stopped at the sound of a voice coming from behind him. If Silva had blinked, she would have missed the way his face changed. Or the ease in his posture that hadn’t been there before. His shoulders relaxed. His grip on the chair loosened, and that slight twitch was completely gone. She was looking at the man she first met at the gym with Santino. It was eerie how quickly he slipped into whatever role this was. She no longer felt weird by his proximity, and that terrified her even more.
“Are you following me?” He turned around and angled his body so Silva couldn’t see exactly who had interrupted them. Now, she was annoyed for a whole other reason.
“Following you would require keeping tabs on you, Martin. I’m just here for coffee.” Amra’s eyes shifted toward Silva. There was nothing kind or friendly in her gaze. “I see you found Santino’s little girlfriend.”
Little girlfriend? Silva scoffed. “Are you always such a bitch? Or is this your way of throwing a little temper tantrum because you’re not used to not getting what you want?” Silva’s claws were out and aimed at Amra. Everything about this woman made Silva want to throttle her.
“I’m sure you know this,” Silva continued, “given your profession and all, but there’s therapy for that. You don’t need to keep your animosity aimed at me.”
It made zero sense for Amra with her fancy degree and job to be behaving like she was still in high school. She acted like she’d been turned down by the popular jock and couldn’t understand what he saw in the girl he was dating now.
Silva would never fight over a man, but Amra’s dazzling personality was making her want to tussle—at the very least, hit her one good time so it could knock some sense into her. If Santino didn’t want her, there was no reason to take it out on Silva. He wouldn’t entertain her regardless if Silva was standing next to him or not.
“Ignore her,” Martin turned toward Silva. “He doesn’t feed into her need for attention. Her ego doesn’t like it,” he mocked whispered. “It’s not you, it’s you by proxy.”
And this conversation has officially turned weird. I want no part of it.
“On that note.” Silva saluted, grabbed her tea, and walked around the table. “Enjoy your coffee.” She hustled out of the café and ran right into Santino.
“Umph.” The grip on her laptop tightened. She couldn’t afford for it to hit the ground. It was as old as dirt and wouldn’t make it if hit the concrete.
“Princess,” Santino’s grip on her was secure and sure, “we gotta stop meeting like this.”
She laughed, looking up at him. “Holy shit.” Her laughter abruptly stopped when she saw the bruising around his jaw and under his eye. “What the hell happened to you?”
He shrugged, but the movement made him wince. Silva pulled out of his hold, afraid if she touched him she would cause him pain. “No, seriously, what happened to you? Is this a job injury? Is this why you haven’t seen me?” Her eyes narrowed. “Who did that to your face?” Her mood had soured. She wasn’t sure if this was a job issue or some random stranger on the street, but she didn’t like that he was hurt at all.
“Did you go to the emergency room? Does it still hurt?”
Santino chuckled, grabbing her chin between his hands. He tilted her face up toward his. “I’m fine, princess. Hazards of the job sometimes. But look at you? All this anger on my behalf? I’m honored.”
There was an edge to him, one she’d only seen one other time and that was during one of their intimate moments. It had sparked fear in her, but it mingled in with her pleasure. This time the edge was met with only a warning. She wasn’t safe.
“Did you know when the light hits your eyes—the sun, or any lighting really….” He angled her face toward the sun and she winced against the brightness. One of the downfalls of her eyes, besides having shit eyesight, was that the sun always hurt her.
“The blue is like staring out into the tropical waters, but the brown?” His lips hovered over hers. “Turns to liquid gold. They really are impressive.”
She wanted to close the distance between them and taste his lips, but her stomach was still tumbling. The whispered warning of caution kept her rooted in place.
