Page 88 of Red Hunt

59

MILLI

Hours later I was still floating on cloud nine. What we did in the middle of Max’s kitchen/living room, in broad daylight… I could feel a sudden flush of warmth spreading from my neck toward my face.

“Everything okay?” Max asked.

I nodded against his chest. I wouldn’t have thought that level of happiness was even possible, but being snuggled against Max on his couch made it all real.

“There’s some things we need to talk about,” Max said and mussed my hair with his lips.

“Yes?”

“Your little side project.”

“Yes. I’m not giving that up.”

“I would never ask that of you.”

I sighed and snuggled more firmly against him. He wouldn’t, which was a relief.

“I’m red_hunt.”

A wash of cold hit my core, and I straightened. “You’re what?”

He clasped his hands in his lap. “Red_hunt, Goofy is Mickey, and Peaches Fury.”

I rubbed my forehead and shook my head. “All the newbies.”

He nodded. “I didn’t know you were part of the group. Didn’t know it at the time. Not until you mentioned your team.”

I went into the kitchen, grabbed myself a glass of water, and looked outside, over the deck and at the mountaintops in the distance. “So, you chatted me up. Why?”

“We didn’t know your group, didn’t know who you were or if you were any good.”

“Why me?” I turned back to him.

“You?” He looked at me as if he had no clue.

“Did you chat me up because I was an easy target?”

Understanding dawned on his face.

But I shored up my feelings. I refused to be a victim, a target, or any kind of weak.

“You’re radical_angel?”

Okay, I didn’t expect the surprise in his expression. I nodded. “Why did you approach me?”

He chuckled, then shook his head. “Because you seemed like the most normal, friendly, and approachable. I’m not a computer whizz like Peaches and you. I can barely follow when you geek out. Radical_angel seemed like the safe choice for me.

The safe choice for him? For Max? For overprotective, cool-when-getting-shot-at Max. The thought alone made all the anguish, all the insecurities go away. He was, after all, only human. Thank God. There was a scratching sound coming from the glass door leading to the deck. Spittle was demanding her way in.

“That’s the other thing we need to talk about.”

I turned back around. “What?”

“Spittle.”

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