Chapter 8 Hunter
EIGHT
HUNTER
“Beer?”
Leo holds a drink my way, and I shake my head.
“Nah. I’m good with water tonight.”
“You’re going soft on me, Wilder.” He sits next to me on the couch and sighs.
“You know I love our scare actor gig, but spending an evening with my best friend watching playoff baseball is my idea of a good time. How you convinced Janey to give us a Saturday night off, I’m not sure, but I’m not going to argue. ”
“Sold my soul to the devil. I consider it being a team player. There are guys who aren’t getting a ton of shifts, while you and I are pushing fifty hours a week. Now we’re sharing the love.” I grin. “Dropping the dreaded overtime word helps too.”
“Such a generous mother fucker compared to the multi-billion dollar company who is terrified to overspend.” He flips on the television and yawns. “They should be giving you the Nobel Peace Prize any day now.”
“I deserve it for losing the hearing in my right ear over the years. And putting up with your ass.”
“Easy, Hunt. If you want me to tell you about your haunted house girl, you’ll have to be nice to me.”
I sit up straight. I grab the remote from him and mute the baseball game. “You found out who she is?”
“Brennan in security is a sly asshole. I only have a license plate number, but it’s a start.”
“She came to see me again last weekend.”
“She came here? And you didn’t tell me?” Leo hits me in the face with the decorative pillow he purchased to make the living room look homier.
There’s a throw blanket draped over the back of the couch to add to the cozy ambience he was going for.
A fresh candle on the coffee table and a picture frame of the two of us at high school graduation.
I’m afraid they’re going to be the next projectiles.
“Some best friend you are. I could’ve made cookies. ”
“No, she didn’t come here. It was at Fright Nights. She found me in the house.” I rub a hand over my jaw, wishing my face was buried between her legs again. I’ve been thinking about her pussy nonstop. “I got her off. Twice.”
“You did what? And you didn’t get caught? You’re shitting me.”
“Nope. Hottest thing I’ve ever done, and nobody had a goddamn clue. Fuck. I wish there were security cameras back there so I could play it on repeat.”
“I’m feeling very single and miserable and lonely.” Leo scowls. “It must be so nice to have such a wonderful life.”
“It is.” I smirk. “Zero complaints.”
“Well, since you’re in a bragging mood, tell me about this girl.”
“She’s so… innocent. Like this pure, sweet woman who probably feeds the birds in the park and bakes dozens of cookies to hand out over the holidays. And I want to corrupt her so fucking bad. I want to find out what her limits are and push her there. It’s been years since I’ve been with someone so—”
“Vanilla?”
I level him with a look. “Unaware of their fantasies. I started to tap into some when I was with her, and I want to do it again.” I grab his phone off the coffee table and shove it his way.
“I can’t do that without knowing who she is.
After we get her full name, you’re in charge of using your background check database to find out as much information as we can about her. ”
“Do I have to?” he whines.
“You know I’m shit with computers. Remember that time I downloaded porn to my mom’s desktop because I clicked on a suspicious link in my email?”
“Oh my god.” Leo bursts out laughing. “She was so fucking pissed at you.”
“I’ll make it worth your while.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “You know that girl who works in the house next to ours at Fright Nights?”
“The redhead?” He smiles shyly. “She’s nice.”
“That’s the one. Janey is friends with her.
I’ll talk you up next time she’s around to try and get her attention.
I also promise to let you have a front row seat the night I invite Maxine over—as long as she’s comfortable with being watched.
I don’t want to push her to do anything she’s not fully onboard with. ”
“But you want to invade her privacy? I can’t wait to be there when she realizes you broke a dozen laws to find out who she is.”
“It’s romantic.”
“I’m sure every creep in history has said the same thing. I’m going to need more than that as a reward. I’m a good guy, Hunt. Cyberstalking isn’t in my wheelhouse.”
“What else do you want?” I ask. “Money? I have plenty. You know my side gig pays well.”
He raises an eyebrow. “How much does a body disposal earn you, exactly?”
My lips twitch at his curiosity. Leo has always wanted to know the bare minimum about what goes on behind closed doors. He’s aware of some of the logistics: the planning. The extensive cleanup to make the death look like an accident, but he doesn’t want to be too involved.
I’m convinced he’d fold in a second during a police interview. He can’t lie to save his life.
I don’t walk around killing random people who cut me off in traffic.
There’s a vetting process. A waiting period between someone applying to the program to the target being taken out.
We need probable cause. A motive for the violence and assurance the world would be better without the deceased in it.
Proof that their behavior is beyond fixing and no one would miss them if they were gone.
Only when all the boxes are ticked do we go in and perform the extraction.
Our discretion comes with a heavy price tag, and I haven’t told him about my compensation.
He knows the pay is good because he’s reaping the benefits of it.
We’ve been in the six-bedroom, four thousand square foot home sitting on five acres for a few years now, and he didn’t bat an eye when I paid it off fully in cash.
“You really want to know?”
“I need to make sure I’m offered fair compensation if I take the money route.”
I smirk. “A hundred thousand a kill. Bonus if we leave the body, stage the crime scene, and no questioning is involved.”
“And you’ve done—” Leo figures out the math in his head. “Damn. Here I was thinking I’d ask for a thousand bucks for my troubles. I need to add a zero or two to that.”
“Alright, fine. Ten thousand? It’s yours.”
“Nah. I want something better, money bags.” He pauses, an idea coming to him by the way he grins. “The keys to your motorcycle so I can take it for a joyride. Without being your fucking backpack,” he finishes before I can interrupt, and I scowl.
“No one is allowed to ride Ralphie except me.”
“Looks like you’re going to have to find someone else to help you.”
“Fine.” I hold out my hand and he shakes it, fucking delighted. “But you only get one afternoon with her.”
“That’s more than enough.” Leo pulls up a text message and takes a screenshot. “You must really like this girl. Ralphie is your most prized possession.”
Mentioning that I’ve been dreaming about Maxine would probably earn me a restraining order, but it’s true.
She’s consumed all of my thoughts, and while I want to know everything about her, I also want to be respectful.
Busting down the door to her house and demanding she give me her attention because I’ve missed her borders on extreme, so I’ll have to get creative.
Luckily thinking outside the box has always been one of my strengths.
“I do like her,” I say, and I have to adjust myself over my gym shorts when I remember her jean skirt hiked up to her waist.
“Dude. Are you getting fucking hard right now? While I’m sitting next to you? Absolutely not.”
“You would too if you had let her come on your hand.”
“Tomorrow night I’m putting you at the exit and I’m taking all the house positions. The good stuff always happens to you.”
“What can I say?” I tousle his hair. “The ladies love me.”
“Love your dick is more like it.”
“That too.”
“I have her license plate, and I need to input it into the background check system so we can verify who exactly your mystery woman is.” Leo grabs his computer off the coffee table and clicks a few keys, whistling. “Stop breathing down my neck.”
“Sorry.” I laugh. “I’m anxious.”
“What’s your plan here? Are you going to show up at her job? Randomly bump into her at the grocery store? Hope she comes through the line again?”
“I doubt she’ll do that. She was nervous to visit the second time. The grocery store? Now there’s a good angle.”
“I read romance books. I know all about meet cutes. Bingo.” He cracks his knuckles. “I really am letting my potential waste away by working in entertainment. My brain is fucking genius. I could crack nuclear codes in ten minutes.”
“Wow. Someone thinks highly of himself.” I scoot closer to Leo. “What did you find?”
“Maxine Walters. Twenty-eight years old. No criminal record, no prior arrests. Wait.” He looks up at me. “What does your record say?”
“What do you mean what does it say? It shows me being a model citizen because every person I’ve killed has been taken care of under the radar.” I scoff. “Come on, dude. I’m not an amateur.”
“Forgive me for being inquisitive. Okay, let’s see. Maxine is currently employed at Orlando Elementary School where she teaches first grade. She’s been there five years. Her last known address is 2586 Woodview Road in Orlando.”
“Woodview,” I repeat, pulling up Google maps. I plug in her address and look at the surrounding houses, glad to find a modest neighborhood in a good part of town. “Who does she live with?”
“Skyler Buchanan. Why does that name sound so familiar?”
I switch over to my Instagram page. I’ve stepped away from posting so frequently after some Fright Nights videos went viral two years ago.
People found my social media accounts, and this time of year brings a constant bombardment of comments and requests for NSFW videos.
I’ve had to turn off the ability for anyone on the internet to tag me in content they create. There’s some scary shit out there.
My DMs are flooded with men and women shooting their shot for my attention, and for as much as I admire their hustle, the C-level fame doesn’t do anything for me.
I’m more of a homebody. Someone who will share parts of his life but not give everyone the full picture, because I want to keep some things to myself.
“She’s the main performer in the Fright Nights stunt show.” I look at Skyler’s profile boasting over forty thousand followers and a perfectly curated feed of filtered photos. “Shorter, blonde woman. Good smile.” I turn my phone to Leo, and he hums.
“Oh, yeah. I’ve seen her backstage. She’s hot. Those curves are sexy.”
“The internet has too much information readily accessible. I don’t like that anyone could find all of this out about Maxine. She wouldn’t know if someone was following her until it was too late.”
“And by someone, do you mean you?” Leo ignores me when I flip him off. “Doesn’t say anything about a partner, but maybe you can do some more stalking—sorry, I mean research—when you see her Instagram page.”
“You are a genius, Leo.”
“I know I am.”
Finding Maxine through Skyler’s following list is easy. I click over to her page and smile at the public profile showing dozens of images of her.
I swipe past a photo of her volunteering at the food bank with gloved hands and a hairnet.
I see another of her sitting in the middle of a classroom on a colorful rug, a wide smile and wrinkles in the corner of her eyes.
A selfie at the beach with Skyler, the pair sitting under an umbrella and shielding their faces from the sun.
There’s not a single man in sight, which is great news for me.
It only takes me a few minutes to put together an idea of who Maxine is: loyal and a good friend. A hard worker and someone who goes after what they want. I didn’t think it was possible to like her even more, but here I am: grinning at my phone and happy as can be.
“Oh, no. You have a dopey look on your face.” Leo sighs. “For real, Hunt. Can you promise me you’re going to treat this girl right? I don’t want you to go all in on something to break her heart three months down the road because you’re not interested in her anymore.”
“Hey.” I frown. “I’m just fucking around. I mean, yeah, I’m bordering on obsessed over this woman, but if she tells me to fuck off and leave her alone, I will. Until then? I’m all in.”
“I know you’re not a monster. I’ve just never seen you so interested in someone before, and it’s throwing me off.”
“Because I’ve never been so interested in someone before.
” I drag my fingers through my hair, careful not to accidentally follow Maxine on social media.
We’ll get there, but for now I only want to observe.
Carefully, and from the sidelines. “She’s made of magic, dude.
My heart’s been broken since Mom passed, but I think she might be the cure. ”
“Damn. Okay, Shakespeare. You tell her that and there will be a wedding by Christmas. I’m glad my romantic ways are rubbing off on you.”
“Yes, Leo. This is all because of you,” I say, and he gives me a thumbs up. “Enough flirting. What else can you tell me about her?”
He spends the next twenty minutes reading off where she graduated from college (the University of Central Florida) and her majors (early education and educational management).
He shows me her Pinterest boards and action shots of her playing soccer in the NCAA championship, her gold jersey and black shorts showing off muscular thighs and long legs.
There are photos from a pole dancing class he finds on a website, her beaming face front and center with a matching biker shorts and tank top set.
The more I learn, the more I want to know.
What’s her family life like? What’s her favorite food?
How many pillows does she sleep with? The questions linger long after Leo shuts his laptop, grabs a beer, and turns up the television so he can root for the Tampa baseball team having their best season ever.
One day, I tell myself.
I’ve always been a determined motherfucker. Someone who goes after what he wants, and right now, the only thing I need is Maxine Walters. I need her like I need air, and I’m not going to stop until she’s mine.