Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
I keep my head down, not wanting anyone to see my face. “Delivery.”
I’m buzzed in, and as I slip through the door, my heart pounds. What the fuck am I doing? This is so stupid.
Creeping into the building, I pass the elevator, and seeing it motionless on the ground floor, I assume that Hunter must have taken the stairs. I hurry toward them, trying to be silent. I’m there in no time, and I lean in toward them and glance up, but all I see is the concrete flooring of the flight above.
Well, that was stupid. This whole thing is stupid. Yet here I am, leading my ass up the stairs.
God, I’m such a moron.
I hurry up the first flight of stairs before stopping and peering around the corner, glancing down the long hallway, and when I don’t see anything, I pull back and fly up the second. I do the same for the third and fourth, only stopping when I reach the fifth floor. When I peer around the corner, I spot Hunter further down the hall. He stops by a door and raps his knuckles against the hard wood before discreetly moving aside so that the person within won’t be able to see him through the peephole in the door.
That’s not normal behavior.
As I watch him, an uneasy feeling settles in my stomach. He pulls something from the waistband of his pants, and then just as the door opens, Hunter adjusts his stance, lifts his hand, and pulls the trigger.
A gasp catches in my throat, and I slam my hand against my mouth to keep quiet, but any noise I could have made is muffled by the sound of the man hitting the floor.
What the actual fuck just happened?
Is Hunter the killer who’s been on the loose? The very man the whole city has been searching for? The one the people in charge are about to invoke a city-wide curfew to try and avoid? The very man who’s been obsessively messaging me?
Holy fucking shit.
I don’t wait around to see what happens next as I take off, flying back down the stairs as fast as I can, keeping my hand braced over my mouth, holding in the terrified, earth-rattling scream building in my chest.
I’m on the ground floor in no time, and I don’t wait around to see how close he is. I dive for the main entrance, flying through the door and out onto the street where I’m finally able to take a gasping breath.
But it’s not over yet.
Any second, he’s going to burst from that door, hot on my heels. I sprint across the open street to a dark alley and dive straight into the shadows.
My back slams against the brick wall, chest heaving as my mind races over everything I just saw.
Hunter Cole is a killer. A cold, hard killer. And I’ve got a feeling he wants me next.
I try to calm myself as I watch the building like a hawk, and sure enough, Hunter strides right out, hitting the pavement more relaxed than ever. I don’t take my eyes off him. I physically can’t, and as he heads back down the street the way he came, he pulls his phone out of his pocket.
He frowns slightly before his fingers rush over the screen, and not a moment later, my phone buzzes in my back pocket sending ice down my spine.
Pulling my phone out, I glance at the text, and my stomach sinks.
Hunter: I thought we’d talked about you leaving me on read.
Fuck.
I’m in trouble, and not just the kind of trouble I’d find myself in with Maddox. This is real trouble. The kind of trouble that could end my life.
But the question is, why the fuck am I so turned on by that?
11
LYRA
Okay, so apparently Sundays aren’t as great as I thought they were. At least, not this Sunday in particular.
It took me forever to get through my inventory, only to get caught up working on next week’s roster, and honestly, I’m almost certain I’m going to have to redo it. After seeing Hunter shoot a guy in his doorway, my brain hasn’t been able to keep focused. Naturally, it’s all I’ve been able to think about.
Turns out, I was spot-on when I accused him of being a psychopath or a serial killer the first time we met, but to his credit, he didn’t deny it. I just thought he was trying to be a flirt, that he was picking up on the banter I was throwing his way. How was I supposed to know he was serious?
Fuck. I knew there was something dangerous about him. From the moment I saw him, I could sense it, but this is definitely not what I had in mind. I thought maybe he was a bit of a player, the kind of guy who’s all about the chase, and the moment he had me in bed, he’d take off. But a killer?