Page 4 of Theirs to Hunt
“That’s not how this works,” I murmur. “Not with her. When she’s hunted, she’ll know exactly who is stalking her. And she’ll want it.”
His jaw tightens again. He will deal with Genevieve. She did what we needed, but she’s a liability now. She will be transferred back to our California headquarters, effective immediately. Far enough to be out of sight. Out of our way.
“She was never supposed to be here,” I say again, quieter this time. “Genevieve forced it. But we’re here now. She’s safe.”
For tonight.
Chapter four
Reagan, Friday 09:47 p.m.
Iheld a hand over my mouth as the man called Brooks approached. He had his father’s build but not quite his presence.
My skin pebbled when Spanish moss brushed my shoulder, like walking through a cobweb. I didn’t dare move.
The older man moved with lazy precision. The tiger his mask depicted, sleek and powerful, cut through the thick southern air without leaving a trace. He was lean, taller than Brooks, with just enough silver in his dark hair to scream take me, Daddy. Unfortunately, my exact type.
I stared at both of them, wondering if I’d hit peak TSTL, too stupid to live. They looked like they’d walked straight out of one of my morally gray romances. You know the ones: beautiful men, bad decisions, and you end up rooting for the kidnapping.
They were dark. Dangerous. Delicious. And there were two.
It took everything in me not to rub my thighs together and give myself away. Father and son. Naughty. The possibilities running through my head made me blush. My brain was already making excuses for them. They were obviously trying to protect me, based on what I overheard.
Right?
Right?
I bit my lip and listened to my inner idiot. Some people had angels on their shoulders. I had Dumb and Dumber sharing one brain cell and cheering me on.
Forget them.
I needed to make a choice for myself.
Because, yeah, my panties were damp. And judging by the cling of fabric against my skin, there was a wet spot on the back of my dress. Fantastic.
I waited. It felt like they were letting me go, judging by what I overheard and the way they walked off without doubling back. I’d puzzle it out later with Bobbie. Right now, I needed to get the hell home.
Glancing around, I started easing down the tree. Bark scraped my thigh. Damn it. I muttered a breathless curse and jumped the last few feet, heels clutched in one hand.
The second my feet hit the ground, I ran. I aimed for the hedge line, ducking into the shadows, and slipped through a break before dropping behind a row of trimmed azaleas. It wasn’t much cover, but it would do.
With shaking hands, I pulled out my phone and requested a Lyft. I didn’t want to bother Bobbie; she’d worked a double today. I just needed to survive ten more minutes without crying, screaming, or orgasming. In that order.
Chapter five
Brooks, Friday 09:56 p.m.
She doesn’t know I’m watching. That’s the point.
From where I’m standing, tucked in near the property line, my dark clothing blends with the night.
I have a clear view of where she slipped through.
She made it to the edge faster than I expected.
She’s smart. Scared. And more resilient than anyone Genevieve gave her credit for. That mistake is being corrected.
I watch as she ducks behind the azaleas, presses her back to the fence, and pulls out her phone. Her hand is shaking. I can see it from here. Doesn’t stop her.
