Chapter 9
Hunter says the most disturbing things, yet every single time, my belly flutters. He stretches his arm out, and I grab his hand—his larger one cocooning mine. I should focus on the lesson, but I can’t forget how it felt with him on top of me. He was hard—everywhere. Heat breaks out on my skin. I could brush it off as exhaustion, but I know better. Even though he’s a tyrant as a fighting instructor, I’m still hot for him.
I said I trust him—an irrefutable truth.
He comes behind me and locks his arm around my neck. My heart pumps an erratic beat. The dose of adrenaline flooding my insides makes me want to fight him off. My eyes sweep around the room, trying to find a safe place to run. While I trust him, my brain is still on high alert. The fight-or-flight button was thoroughly smashed.
He presses down on my esophagus, and I dig my nails into his hand.
“You’re safe with me. I’d bleed out anyone who even thinks of hurting you, Bailey.”
That knowledge soothes my frayed thoughts. I believe him wholeheartedly.
“Now, breathe in and out, slowly.”
I follow his instructions, and he adds, “If you’re ever in this position, you jam your elbow in his stomach, twist his arm, and take him down with a hard kick to the balls. Then you run. You don’t hesitate.”
“Okay.”
Pressing his elbow into my neck, he asks, “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
Whether I like it or not, he’s going to teach me this hard lesson. I stand perfectly still, calm because I trust him with my life. He squeezes until dots dance before my eyes. I don’t react but accept what will happen. I’m safe with him. That’s my last thought before everything turns black.
A soft slap on my cheek wakes me up. I am seated in a chair, my ankles and wrists bound with zip ties. Panic makes me forget it’s not real, and I thrash in my bindings. But then I peer into a pair of gray eyes and calm down immediately.
“Free yourself.”
I try, but the restraints only bite tighter into my skin. “How? I can’t.”
“You must be ready for every scenario possible.”
Taking a moment, I focus on my surroundings. I have my shoes on, which I didn’t have at the beginning of the lesson. So, he put them on to help me. But how?
“Any ideas?” he says, leaning against the opposite wall and observing me.
“Any tips for me?” I smile brightly, trying to charm him.
He gives me a pointed look, remaining serious, but I am cracking that hard exterior. He is the reason I feel more like myself. Hunter and danger unleashed a side of me I kept trapped inside. I like this bolder version of me more—it’s liberating.
“Laces.”
I try to rack my brain, getting frustrated. “Shouldn’t you show me the first time? You suck at this.”
“You’re going to be late for your date.”
“Hunter, you’re not serious.” His face remains impassive while I wiggle in my seat. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“As long as I can’t kill him and you insist on going on with this idiotic plan, then yeah—free yourself, and you can go on the second date.”
I am so taking him down, and I won’t hesitate this time.
While my thoughts go on a rampage trying to figure this out, silence ensues.
Staring at my laces, I think he means to use them to free myself. But how, when my hands and ankles are bound? He won’t help me, so I am on my own here. Bending down, I pluck the lace ties with my mouth and wrap them around the zip tie. Then I rub them together, trying to cut them free. It takes some time, but I do the same with my wrists once my legs are free.
He hasn’t moved from his spot, but that awed look on his face sends a spark of delight through me. Led by pure instinct, I sashay over to him, so damn proud of myself that I might burst any moment.
“I basically exceeded all your expectations.”
“You must be bloody keen to go on that date.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”
His jaw clenches as he stares at me. Usually, he would have denied it. He doesn’t, and my mouth parts on a gasp.
“Close that mouth, Bailey.”
“Or what?” This guy has taken everything in me apart and reassembled the scattered pieces so that I am put together differently now.
His thumb rubs along my bottom lip, and my breath hitches. My heart pounds a merciless rhythm, threatening to explode. Pushing it inside my mouth, I poke my tongue out, sucking on it. His pupils dilate, and a vein throbs in his neck as he swallows hard. I affect him—the rush of endorphins is so potent it exhilarates me.
What is happening right now? And can it never end?
His eyes flit to mine. “Kitten, you’re playing with a panther…”
With that, he rips his thumb away, leaving me empty and aching for more.
On shaky legs, I go upstairs and take a lukewarm shower, but I still feel the warmth of his presence, his body rippling with contained desire. Butterflies twitch along my ribcage as I remember sucking his thumb.
I take a seat at my desk and open my laptop. On the other screens, various cameras run an identification program and a live map.
My phone rings, and I almost fall off my seat when I see who it is. I blink, thinking I must be imagining things, but my father’s name lights up my phone.
I press accept, and he says, “What took you so long?”
I remain silent, not dignifying his question with an answer. I thought we had an unspoken agreement to stop pretending unless the Family has its gatherings. We’ll act civil, but in private, there’s no need.
“Dinner, Monday at the house.”
“I’ll be there.”
I hang up. Inhaling deeply, I remind myself that I am not the girl desperate for their scraps. I’ll listen to what they have to say, and then I’m gone.
A knock at my door pulls me from my thoughts, and Mia walks inside, followed by Celine and Abigail. It’s almost time for my date.
“You look like you could pass out at any moment,” Abi says.
“Wouldn’t be the first time today.”
“What?” Celine shrieks.
“What did Hunter do?” Mia asks, her face paling.
“He was getting me ready.”
“I’ll talk to him. You’re not ready for those lessons,” Celine says.
“No. I’m fine. It has to be like this.” I like that he challenges me to be better and learn faster.
“Are you sure?” Abi asks, and I nod, one hundred percent sure.
I pick a pair of jeans and a shirt with puffed shoulders, and we move to the Lady Boss Lair. I comb my hair, doing the minimum.
“I hate that you’re doing this,” Abi sighs, helping me with the makeup.
“We’ll be there as well,” Celine reminds me.
“There’s more,” Mia says, looking intently at me.
“I’m having dinner with my parents Monday night.”
Abi’s brows furrow. “What do those assholes want from you now?”
I shrug. “I’ll find out tomorrow.”
“My dad wants Hunter and me to come for dinner soon too. I’ll tell him we’ll be there Monday night. I’ll bring Blake along, so come join us afterward.”
When I am ready, we walk downstairs. This feels oddly familiar, with the girls accompanying me downstairs while the guys wait.
“Just so you know, this will end when I go on an actual date,” I warn them.
“After we vet him, sure,” Celine says, and I roll my eyes at my overprotective friends. But I couldn’t imagine life without them.
My phone vibrates with a text from Eric.
“He’s here.”
Feeling strengthened after today’s intense training, I open the door but turn my head, and my eyes find Hunter. His stiff posture must be straining his muscles quite a bit.
Eric waits outside, and I inhale deeply, forcing a smile. He is a handsome guy—classic features, thick brows and hair, dressed immaculately in slacks and a polo. At least I know what I am dealing with. He can’t fool me with his looks.
“I thought we’d watch a movie and then go for a drink,” he suggests.
I breathe a sigh of relief. After the movie, I will come up with an excuse for wanting to go home.
“I’d love that.”
As he opens the passenger door for me, I get a glimpse of Hunter’s Audi parked in his designated spot. It looks just like him, a dangerous silver beast. I imagine it’s him who opens the door for me; it’s him with whom I have a date. Snapping out of that impossible dream, I slide into the seat and buckle myself in.
“How have you been?” we both ask at the same time. He looks so pleased that I force my mask to stay in place. He answers first, talking about his lacrosse training and classwork, and I try to stay focused, nodding occasionally.
“Sounds busy.”
“I always make time for the things I want,” he says, winking at me.
He must have quite the free time then.
The moment we reach the theater, he tells me to choose the movie. I am into violent and gory films, but I don’t want to share that with him, so I pick a Disney movie instead.
“I figured you’d pick that one. Sweet like you.”
Keep thinking that.
Armed with popcorn and sodas, we take our seats in the dimmed theater. I instantly calm down when I see fellow students are there as well.
Eric fills the silence with incessant blabber, which makes me wonder if he ever tires of hearing himself talk. But then I remember he was outgoing in high school as well. Eric always tried to chat me up, but I was even more of a recluse back then.
When the film rolls on the big screen, I lean back, eating the buttery, salty kernels. He sneaks a hand around the back of my seat, trying to play it smooth. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I catch a shadow. Hunter’s so stealthy that I doubt anyone else notices—but I do. I always sense him.
When Eric finishes his popcorn, he digs into mine. Our fingers brush, and I snatch my hand away. He grins, obviously doing it on purpose. It’s not that I don’t like to share, but it gets to be too much, so I just slam the popcorn on his lap, smiling back at him. It’s faker than the holes in the cheese of the animated movie.
I laugh when everyone in the room laughs and keep my eyes on the screen, but I couldn’t name one character. When the animated movie finally ends, I stand up, rubbing my temples.
I am about to open my mouth when Eric beats me to it.
“I know this great place on campus…”
“Actually, I have a headache.”
“Nonsense. I’m hungry, so we’ll go eat. I’m not ready to bring you home yet.”
He’s not ready to—the nerve of this guy.
With a strained nod, I gesture for him to move, but he places his palm on my back, leaning in to kiss me on the cheek.
“Now that I have you, I won’t ever let you go.”
Should that sound alluring? Because a shudder crawls down my spine—and that’s worrisome. I look around the theater, but Hunter’s nowhere in sight. Still, he’s here somewhere, and that knowledge eases me.
The moment we step inside the bar on campus, I understand what Eric is doing—showing me off. His friends are not subtle, giving him thumbs-up and approving looks.
We’re taking our seats at a table when my friends walk in too.
“What are they doing here? Can’t I have you just for myself? How would they even know where we are?” he asks, an accusatory bite in his tone.
I brush my hand over his to distract him. His hand feels too soft, too refined—not like Hunter’s, hardened and calloused, the kind that makes me feel safe. “It’s just us.”
The smile he gives me is one of pure satisfaction, and I pull my hand away.
My group of friends does a fantastic job of pretending they didn’t know I was here when they come over. After a few short greetings, they move on to the next booth. I want to join my friends. Yet here I am with the enemy.
“Next time, I’m taking you to town for some privacy,” Eric says as the food arrives.
Hunter has his back to me, but I know he heard; his shoulder blades look tense enough to snap.
“It’s early in our relationship, but I know I will be your first. You’re not mine, but you’re the one that matters.”
I think I just threw up a little bit in my mouth.
I expel a long breath, heavy with frustration. “We’re not there yet.”
He leans back. “Playing hard to get. Don’t worry, I am up for it. It will be worth it.”
When he excuses himself to go to the bathroom, I consider bashing my head onto the table.
“The bullshit that asshole spews. You have more patience than I do because I was considering stabbing my fork into his head a few times,” Abi mutters.
“Thank you for being here, guys.”
“You’re doing fantastic,” Blake says, assuring me he has my back.
Hunter is the only silent one, but when our eyes meet, his are blazing. He glares at the seat Eric occupies with an intensity that could incinerate it.
“Find an excuse to leave, or I will fuck him up.” Hunter’s tone is cold, edging on threatening.
When Eric returns, I finish my salad quickly and say, “It was lovely, but I still have a headache.”
“Come to my place and let me take care of you.”
A low groan erupts, and I recognize who it belongs to. Standing up hastily, I say, “Another time. I really don’t feel well.”
The moment we’re in Eric’s car, and he’s driving me back to the house, I relax slightly. I kiss him quickly on the cheek and reach for the door handle, but he grips my elbow, stopping my escape.
“Just a kiss on the cheek? Come on, Bailey, I deserve more.”
“If you want me, you move at my speed.” I yank my arm away and shut the door behind me.
He rolls the window down. “I’m not fooling around. I want you. You’re safe with me.”
As safe as with a cobra.
I am aware I can’t keep holding him off. Bile rises in my throat at the thought, leaving a putrid taste behind. Finally inside the house, I lean against the wall next to the front door.
Hunter is the first to burst through. He rushes up the stairs, and I call after him.
“Worried about me?”
“Did he do something to you?” he asks, jogging back to me.
“No.” What I don’t say is as clear as if I did. Not yet. I push myself off the wall, and we move to the living room. As he paces around, I sit on the couch.
“You’re not equipped for this type of mission.”
“But you would be, right? Maybe I should just channel you then.”
He comes to an abrupt stop, chest heaving. “This is what you want? A date that means nothing, the enemy kissing you, fucking you?”
No, I don’t want that. But if that’s the only solution, then so be it. I’m definitely braver in my head. My heart clenches as I look at the one I want.
“He’d have my firsts…”
His features harbor a sharpness that could slice diamonds. Whatever he would have said is cut off when our friends stride into the living room.
“Who wants a drink?” Abi asks, and we all groan in agreement. She pours each of us a tumbler of whiskey. Mia puts on some music, and I join them in the middle of the room after I knock my drink back. This has been our outlet when things spiral out of control—being together, drinking, and dancing to let loose. Here, the outside world can’t touch us.
Nothing could except him.
His silver eyes.
His broody nature.
His tempting presence.
He can’t corrupt me. He already did.