Page 79 of Hunter

It was always the same.

It started out at the cliff, where a faceless man twice my size had gotten a hold of me.

I tried to fight back. I really did, but he was much stronger than me, and I didn’t know how to escape. I didn’t know what he wanted—not at the time, not when I was still so naïve, so fucking innocent. Then a voice shouted out for the man to stop, and I turned toward it to see…

A shadow of a man, much larger than the faceless man.

I should have been scared of this shadow, much more so than the faceless man, but I had felt nothing but relief.

The shadow headed toward me, and suddenly, everything was just black. When the picture started to come in again, I was no longer on the cliff, but in the back of that alleyway of Club X. Only this time, I wasn’t an anonymous person listening to a murder taking place…

I was the victim.

The VP of the King’s Men MC came toward me, mostly hidden in the shadows. His eyes were the only thing I could see in the dark, and they had glinted with malicious intent.

And then…

I woke up feeling so out of it.

Slowly, I moved my limbs, trying to remind myself that I wasn’t in that horrid dream world but safe in my own apartment.

I reminded myself that I had a paid job, had dating prospects with a man I was insanely attracted to, and was independently away from my family.

If only I could just push the past away.

I climbed out of bed and looked around my room.

Something felt different about it, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

Not until I returned after going into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face did I realize my phone I had left charging on my nightstand last night was unplugged.

I frowned.

Had I forgotten to charge it?

I grabbed the phone and read the battery bar.

Eighty-seven percent.

Almost fully charged.

How odd.

Perhaps I had accidentally unplugged it in my sleep last night?

That didn’t sound plausible, but what other explanation could there be?

* * *

I was readingin my living room when eight o’clock hit, and there was a knock at my door.

My heart jumped, and I tried to refrain from smiling so wide or opening the door too soon and looking eager.

I counted to ten under my breath and opened the door, and there he stood.

He was in his signature black t-shirt that clung to his muscle, showcasing just how big and powerful he looked, dark jeans and black boots.

His hair on the top was a little messy, as if he had spent the entire morning running his fingers through it.

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