Page 56 of Dark Little Game

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I need something to defend myself.

Hunter’s desk is beside me, right outside the closet.

I see the edge of one of his knives.

I reach up in a flash and grip the end of the knife, standing up and holding it straight out in front of me as I turn to the door.

The door of the room suddenly swings open.

And Hunter is there, staring back at me.

“You really are the one trying to kill me,” I whisper.

The knife is shaky in my hand.

I know he can see that it’s shaking, too.

I also know that I could never hurt him, even if I tried. I’m strong, but he’s quicker, and he’s used to fighting whereas I’m only used to running on a football field.

“Rayne, what’s going on?”

“I know you have something todo with it,” I say, not hiding the anger from my voice. “Whoever it is. Trying to put another dart into my neck.”

Something hits the window again.

And then, suddenly, the sound becomes constant.

A hard pattering on the window every few moments.

“There’s a hailstorm,” Hunter says.

And before I can move, he reaches out and clutches my hand, easily pulling the knife away from my grasp.

It’s in his hand now.

I look back over to the window and fear drains from my blood, replaced with shame.

It’s hail.

And now I look like a fucking paranoid freak.

“Hey,” Hunter says, tossing his knife back onto the desk with a loud clatter. He comes closer to me. “It’s okay. After what’s been happening to you, this is a normal reaction.”

My blood is hot.

I’m fucking livid at myself for being so stupid.

He puts his hand on my arm and gently rubs my skin.

I want to rip his fucking hand off.

I also want more of his touch.

I’d bolted out of bed earlier without any time to put on clothes, and now I’m in my boxer-briefs that I sleep in, feeling completely exposed.

I bat him away a moment later. “Get your fucking hands off of me.”

Something’s molten in my chest now.

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