The Hunted (Sleeping With Monsters Book 2) (7 page)

She shook her head and
her eyes went even wider. Vincent hugged her close. “Tell me who planned it and
I let you go. Don’t, and I keep you here overnight, and say you tipped me off.”

I looked over to him as
she gasped. Even intoxicated, my alpha was in control.  

“It was Jimmy -- but
you can’t tell him I told you –“ she turned in his arms, from escaping to
clinging. “You have to give me some money, help me to run.”

Vincent shrugged, cold.
“You don’t deserve anything, after selling me out. Go –“ he pointed towards the
broken door.

“But –“ she whined.

“If you talk to me
again I’ll have Max kill you.”

She looked over at me –
and at the bodies on the floor, downed by my hand.
That’s right. I’m the the
big bad wolf.
Furiously pissed but more frightened, she took off with just
the clothing on her back. Vincent watched her go then turned to me. “Give the
other girl a couple of hundred, and get her out. I need to make some calls.”

I got the money out of
Vincent’s petty cash drawer and rousted the blonde, who was too high or drunk
to care. By the time I’d gotten her to the elevator and back, Vincent was done.

I knew he had bosses
who had bosses, and he himself had men beneath him, other soldiers -- they gave
me curt nods when our paths overlapped. What I didn’t know was that there was a
cavalry for situations just like this -- within thirty minutes, our penthouse
was like an Amish barn raising. People showed up to change the door, clean the
floor, take the one body away to dispose of, take the other man in to
interrogate, and threaten or bribe neighbors on other floors into silence.
Thirty minutes after that, Vincent and I were alone again.

He was sober now and I
noticed he hadn’t shared the information the brunette had given him with the
boss or the workerbees that’d shown up. I knew from living with him that his
revenge would be personal – and hoped I’d be lucky enough to get involved in
it.

He was sitting on his
couch much as I had earlier, elbows on knees, his head in his hands.

I went to the bar and
made him a drink, the last of his whiskey and two ice cubes, the way I knew he
liked it. “You’ll have to move now.”

“I know,” he said, taking the
drink from my hand.

It wasn’t that where he lived
was a secret, but there were too many neighbors here – and not enough brick to
catch stray bullets.

“This is not how I thought
things were going to go. Tonight was going to be my night.” He rocked back into
the couch and looked up at me, giving me a sly smile without taking a sip of
his drink.

“I’m sorry your celebrations
were interrupted.”

He shrugged one shoulder,
still eyeing me. “They hadn’t really started yet.”

It was times like these that
made working for him worthwhile – when my wolf’s tail beat in hope -- until I
caught myself and realized that I was just projecting, and reality dashed me
against the rocks.

“You knew there’d be trouble
tonight. And –“ he hoisted his drink up in a kind of a toast. “You know me
better than I know myself.”

“Sir,” I said, looking away.

“Vincent,” he corrected
softly. “You’re so obedient, Max. Sometimes I get the idea I could ask you to
do anything.”

My stomach tensed and my chest
started to rise. If there was ever a time to be brave, to tell him the truth
about me, this was it.

“You could, if you wanted to,
Vincent,” I said, without daring to look up.

He made a thoughtful sound and
I waited. For him to throw me out, for him to yell, for him to laugh it off,
brush it under the rug and blame too much to drink.

When he didn’t I let my gaze
rise, from his feet to his chest to his face, where he was watching me with his
dark eyes. He slid one hand to rest between his open legs.  

“Come here and suck my cock,
Max.”

I fell to all fours and
crawled over to him, to do as I was told.

And from then on all of
his celebrating took place in private -- with me.

#

I woke to discover the prior
night had not been a dream – I had indeed come home with a strange woman – and
we had fucked, I could still smell it in the air. More than that, I could smell
him
.

No wonder I’d dreamed of him
last night. My erection was still straining.
God. Even after all this time.
I stood up quietly, walking over to her. She smelled so like him – I leaned
over and breathed her in, the scent making my heart and balls ache. I quickly went
outside, locking the door behind me.

I leaned against one of the
timbers supporting the porch. I’d been living like a hermit, and now, after
last night – it was like a genie’d been released. My wolf rose up in me with
needs
– there was no way I could hunt like this, not when I wanted to fuck so badly.
I opened up my jeans and pushed them down to reach for myself, imagining it was
Vincent’s hand, not mine, stroking me. The way he’d reach down during sex, to
finish me off, the nights with his hands, his mouth, his tongue – I gasped,
shooting my load out, taking a step forward, falling into the past, for a man
who wasn’t there. I sagged against the timber and collected myself. I just –
had to keep her safe – I just – needed to
run
and
hunt
. 

I stumbled towards the
treeline, and the freedom of four legs.

Chapter Five

I sat up in bed when I
heard the door close and it all came rushing back. I was here in Redneckania
alone – for real, because Max wasn’t on the couch. Maybe he had to pee or
something.
Or go out to get us bagels.
I sighed.

How long could I keep
this up, not telling him what’d happened? Another day or two at most. He had a
truck, he could go into town, Vincent’s death would have made the newspaper at
least. Just because he lived in the middle of nowhere didn’t mean he was dumb.

And then what? I leaned
over the bed and looked to where I’d stashed my bag underneath. Maybe a few
days were all I needed to get away safely. Ask him to drive me to an airport,
bribe him with a bundle of twenties or a blowjob. I curled up on the
uncomfortable mattress, knees under my chin.

I saw a movement out of
the corner of my eye, through one of the windows. I crawled over carefully and
peered out. He was outside. Just standing there, leaning –
oh ho ho
.

Taking care of himself. I
recognized the hand movements.

I bet he had to do that
a lot out here. Probably fucked the holes of trees for fun. I watched him
shamelessly, getting to see what I hadn’t last night, the length and girth of
him as he worked himself over. Last night had been good…on the scale of things
to distract me from my newly dead boyfriend. I closed my eyes and put my head
against the windowpane. The next time I opened them, he was gone.

Good. I stood up and
stretched, and went for the front door. I’d walk around outside some, get back
into touch with nature, pretend I was at some sort of spa. I grabbed the handle
and turned – and it wouldn’t give. What?

 “Hey – hey!” I rattled
it back and forth in its frame. The bastard had locked me in. “Hey!” I slammed
a fist into my side of the door. Why did he do that? Was he already selling me
out?

“Let me the fuck out of
here!” I shouted. No one came in response.

I spent what felt like
an eternity with my legs crossed. When he came back, I shoved my way out the door
and ran to the outhouse – and when I came back, I made sure to stand on the
porch and not go inside.

“Where were you? I had to pee
so bad I almost died.”

“I left you a bucket,” he
said, pointing to one side.

“Are you kidding me?” His
expression said that he was not. “Why the hell did you lock me in?”

“To protect you.”

“From what?”

“Bears. Mountain lions.”

His face was so serious, I was
inclined to believe him, even though I was still royally pissed off. 

“No tigers?” I suggested,
sarcastically. His eyebrows rose. “You know? From the Wizard of Oz? Lions and
tigers and bears, oh my?”

He shook his head. “No. This
is dangerous country.”

I crossed my arms, unwilling
to forgive him. “So where were you?”

“Hunting.”

I looked at him. “With
just…you? No gun, no bow and arrows?”

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Did it work?”

“No,” he said, shrugging
again.

I calmed down slowly. If he’d
sold me out, the Carminos would have been here already, three hours was more
than enough time. I didn’t believe anything else about him further than I could
throw him, though.  

“Is there someplace in this
godforsaken forest that I can take a bath?” I felt dirty after last night – I
wanted to wash everything away.

“There’s a creek. I can take
you there.”

“Good.”  

I followed him down the ridge
in my robe and shoes. Even though it was almost noon, birds were still chirping
overhead, and squirrels were jumping from branch to branch. Fat rabbits raced
away in the underbrush, and we startled a deer with a doe, pausing to watch
them both leap away. All this exuberant ‘nature’ made me feel like a low rent
Snow White.

The cabin was over a creek, if
you walked far enough out in a straight line. And some person had dammed a
portion of it, creating a little watering hole that was lined with rushes on
one side. I stood at the edge of this, my hand on my robe’s tie, and looked to
him.

Despite last night he turned
around so he wouldn’t see me. I appreciated that. I carefully set my robe down
and walked to the water’s edge, gasping as it touched my toes.

“What?” he said, turning fast.

“It’s cold,” I protested, arms
crossed over my breasts. The locket swung between them, the only thing I wore.

“Sorry,” he said, and returned
to steadfastly looking away from me.

I grit my teeth and slowly
walked in, waist deep, my feet slipping over rocks on the bottom, worried about
snapping turtles biting off my toes.

How did those old timey
baptisms work? You dove underneath the water a sinner, and afterwards came up
clean? I held my breath and tried it. It didn’t feel like it’d changed
anything.

I untangled my wet hair with
one hand, body mostly hidden by the water. With the sound of the cicadas and
the rippling of the creek – everything was peaceful out here, except for me. I
looked up at him, still angled away. “How did you know Vincent?”

He was silent for so long I
thought maybe he hadn’t heard me. “It’s hard to explain,” he said at long last.

For seven years, I’d known
Vincent inside and out, and I’d never once heard him mention knowing a mountain
man. He had to have been one of Vincent’s old employees, back from when he ran
fights, someone who’d then decided to go native.

But why? Who was he hiding
from out here? Who’d hurt him this badly? His fingers pulled three pieces of
grass up and I watched him braid them rather than talk to me.

“You haven’t even asked me
what my name is.”

“What’s your name?” he asked,
without looking up. 

“Sarah,” I lied.

“Nice to meet you, Sarah.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Max,”
I muttered under my breath, and dipped under the water again.

He followed me back to the
cabin – to see if I’d find my way back, I thought – and then we stood at an
impasse on the porch.

“I don’t have dinner yet – you
need to go inside.”

“Why?”

“Because I have to go out
hunting again.”

“With your bare hands. Like a
ninja.” He glowered at me. It might have worked on other women, but I was used
to Vincent, so I held my ground.

“I set traps earlier.
It’s not humane to leave animals in them – plus if I don’t collect them, other
predators will.”

My eyes narrowed at him
including himself among their number.
Lions and tigers and Maxes, oh my.
“You can’t lock me in again.”

“You don’t understand –“

“I may not,” I interrupted.
“But I don’t want to be trapped.” He didn’t look like he would break, but I
wanted to see how far I could push him. “What if there’s a fire?”

His strong jaw clenched as he
held words back. “Stay on the porch then. But don’t go walking around. I can’t
protect you out there.” He gestured behind himself, and I got the feeling he
meant all of the civilization past the trees too.

“Okay,” I promised.

He sighed deeply, giving me a
distrustful look, but then turned and stalked back into the woods.

I watched him go more closely
than I should have. He was handsome underneath his gruff exterior. He walked
the land like he was born to it, with competence that made him instantly
attractive, and I knew that underneath his shirt and jeans he’d be lean and
muscled. If he really did live off the land up here, he probably didn’t have an
ounce of body fat on him.

Vincent would’ve liked him. My
man sometimes had things for other men.

#

“I just don’t want to scare
you off,” he said, smiling down at me.

We’d moved in together, in a
way – he’d bought me a hotel room to live in, and he had the only other key. It
wasn’t quite like being Suzie Homemaker, but it was close enough for a whore.

“All right,” I said,
reluctantly. I was in a short black dress and tied to a chair, my legs spread
wide, ankles lashed to chair legs, with my arms behind my back, making my chest
jut forward. I knew I was beautiful like this, in that way only he and I could
appreciate.

“Only two things left. Three,
really.” He knelt down, and I could feel his heat and smell him as he leaned
over me, putting something small and round into my hand. “If you want this to
end, you just drop that, okay?”

“Okay,” I nodded. “But why
can’t I –“

Vincent held up a small
ball-gag, before I could ask. He proffered it out to me, like asking a horse to
take the bit of a bridle. We’d done this before. I opened my mouth and let him
place it inside.