Chapter 9 Hunter
“You know, for hating this place, she sure is coming around a lot lately.”
Alex sets another beer in front of me, giving me a questioning look—like I’m supposed to know why Bunny has suddenly decided to bring her dates to the one place I frequent more than anywhere else outside of work.
“She doesn’t hate this place,” Vixey chimes in. “She just avoids it when she can’t trust herself around Hunter.”
Alex and I trade a look, both wondering how the tall honey-blonde has that much insight into Bunny’s feelings. My girl isn’t exactly her biggest fan.
“Is that so?”
Vixey shrugs, balancing a pitcher of beer and a stack of frosted glasses on her tray. “I’m observant. I don’t understand it… You two seem to want to be together, and I don’t think anyone understands what her hang-up is—except maybe Dove—but it’s just what I’ve noticed since I started working here.”
She spins away without waiting for a response, clutching the tray tightly to her stomach as she weaves through the crowd.
Alex watches her go, lips quirking despite himself. When he catches me looking, the smirk drops and he shrugs. “What?”
Chuckling, I shake my head and sip my beer, gaze sliding across the bar to where Bunny is laughing at something another carbon copy of me just said.
Since I went down on her at her place, she’s been avoiding me harder than usual. I’d be pissed about it, except when I went to leave, she almost asked me to stay—something she hasn’t done in a very long time.
The vulnerability in her eyes that night burned into my retinas, a permanent screensaver every time I close my eyes and remember how she tasted on my tongue.
So sweet. So perfect. So fucking mine that I have half a mind to do what I always do—interrupt her date, derail her plans, and make her remember who she really belongs to.
Only, tonight seems different.
Bunny seems to be enjoying herself.
Her forest eyes haven’t searched for me. The rosy flush on her cheeks—the one only I can coax from her—has appeared more than once. And her body language screams that she’ll let this fucker kiss her if he tries.
Doubt trickles through my bloodstream like a slow bleeder. The kind that doesn’t seem deadly… until it’s drained the life out of you.
Bunny Katherine Jones confuses the ever-loving fuck out of me.
I know what she went through with her husband was a nightmare, and I know she’s terrified to give her heart away again. But deep down, she knows I’d never hurt her. And what’s worse—she wants to be with me. It’s just all the red tape on both ends.
She doesn’t want to commit.
Even if I tried to make this work on her terms, I’d always be waiting for the other shoe to drop. Always wondering when I’d wake up to find her gone again—just like last time.
I wouldn’t be able to submerge myself in a non-committed relationship with her…
And I’m afraid I’d come to resent her for keeping me dangling on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the moment she decides to step on my fingers and watch me fall to a gruesome death.
Okay… so maybe I’m being a little melodramatic.
At the end of the day, we’re at an impasse.
Neither of us wants to move forward unless it’s on our terms.
And neither of us wants to let go.
I check my phone—still nothing from Wrenley, who’s upstate on a lead.
Since he’s been back in town, he’s been my unofficial ear for all things Bunny, helping me stay grounded as we’ve fallen back into our easy friendship from childhood rhythm.
But with him gone, my anxiety swells unchecked.
No one to talk me down. No one to validate my growing frustrations.
Vixey flounces back to the bar, slamming her tray down and blowing a rogue curl out of her face. “She’s so mean.”
“Who’s being mean?” I set my phone aside and glance around, ready to pick a fight if someone’s upset her. Alex has a soft spot for the girl, and I could use the distraction. Maybe the “she” in question has a boyfriend I can verbally dismantle.
Vixey’s amber eyes are glossy, her bottom lip trembling as she tries not to cry. “Bunny! She’s never going to let me forget that I spilled a drink on her, is she?”
Ah. Wrong “she.”
I have no interest in fighting with my girl tonight. I don’t need to do anything that will push her into the arms of the douchebag she’s entertaining.
I turn back to my little rabbit—who’s watching us now with thinly veiled annoyance.
Interesting. Especially since she hasn’t looked my way once since I got here.
Without breaking eye contact, I reach over and pat Vixey’s back, savoring how Bunny visibly bristles as her gaze flicks from me to the distraught blonde.
“Bunny’s a grudge-holder. Don’t let her see you cry. She hates weakness and can smell fear from a mile away.”
Vixey huffs a laugh, grabbing a cocktail napkin to dab at her eyes. “I just want them to like me.”
“Bunny and Dove? Why do you care if they like you? Not that they aren’t great girls—I love them both—but why does it matter so much what they think?” Alex asks as he reappears to make a round of fruity-looking shots.
“I don’t know.” Vixey shrugs, then fixes him with a melancholy look. “They just seem like the kind of women I want to be around… they just don’t want me in their circle.”
“You’re still new, Vix. Don’t let it get you down. Those two have been inseparable since they met, and I’ve never seen another woman breach their circle of salt.”
“Isn’t a circle of salt for keeping danger in?” I ask, trying to follow his logic.
“Or out,” they reply in unison.
I realize I haven’t stopped rubbing Vixey’s back.
And Bunny’s attention hasn’t returned to her date, who’s now glued to his phone.
Smirking, I lean closer—about to say something—when Vixey suddenly jerks away.
“Are you trying to get me killed?” she demands, wide-eyed, putting distance between us and nearly tripping over her own feet.
“I was trying to console you!”
“You are trying to make her jealous, and I’m just collateral. I don’t think so, Detective Dick.”
“Hey now, that’s reserved for people who actually know me.”
“I know you well enough.”
A shrill ring cuts through the noise as my phone vibrates against the bar. The tone is reserved for work, pulling me upright. “Remington.”
“Yeah, we got a body. Looks like the Shadow Siren’s work.”
Fuck.
It’s been a while since she’s struck—or at least left us something to find. “You sure it’s her?”
“Small puncture wounds in the groin, feet, and hands. Stomach slashed. Throat crushed. Found him in a club near where the last victim was.”
“Shit.”
Across the bar, Bunny flips her hair over her shoulder, turning back to her date. He’s off his phone now and inching closer, arm draped across the back of her chair in a way that makes my teeth grind.
“Send me the address. I’m on my way.”
I consider asking her to come with—just to see if she’d choose me over him.
But I stop myself.
I’m already itching for a fight, needing an outlet for the jealousy burning holes in my chest.
The last thing I need is to get suspended for punching a man she clearly wants to spend her night with.
With one last glance, I push away from the bar, clinging to the fleeting flash of disappointment that crosses her face as I leave her behind.
Bunny
“Sorry about that. We just got a wave of new residents.”
My date, Mark, tucks his phone back into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He’s dressed for a Michelin-star restaurant but didn’t even blink when I suggested we come here instead. His apology sounds as genuine as it looks in his warm brown eyes.
“It’s okay. Is everything alright?”
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying myself. He hasn’t pressured me once all night. He’s polite, steady, considerate—probably a great guy.
He’s just not the one I want.
The one who made me see actual stars in my entryway with his tongue… and then left with my juices still glistening in his beard.
That guy is currently pissing me off. The least he could do is not flirt with Vixey of all people.
Mark swings his arm around my chair, leaning in. “Everything’s fine. But I might have to cut the night short. I should really get back to the hospital.”
He bites his bottom lip, eyes dipping over my face, tracing my freckles and the purple foil stars dusted across my cheek. “Why don’t you come with me? I shouldn’t be that long.”
An incredulous laugh escapes before I can stop it. “You want me to come with you to the hospital?”
My gaze flicks across the bar just in time to see Hunter leaving.
I know why—and where—he’s going.
I have half a mind to tell Mark I can’t and run after him, just to watch them all scratch their heads and wonder how I pulled off killing a man in a private room of a strip club and slipped away unseen.
It’s why they call me the Shadow Siren.
Well… they have since Dove graced me with the moniker, anyway.
Before her, I targeted easy kills in their own homes, none of them ever linked to a single perpetrator. It wasn’t until my tiny death-demon best friend convinced me to niche down that it became more of an art.
A carefully crafted match.
A game of cat and mouse.
Another way to keep Hunter interested… even if he doesn’t know it’s me he’s looking for.
“I know, that’s awful, isn’t it?” Mark hangs his head as he signals Vixey for the bill. “The last thing anyone wants is to sit around at the hospital while I do a consult.”
“Maybe another time,” I offer weakly. My mind’s already out the door, chasing the only man I’d actually wait around for. “I had fun, though.”
Vixey returns with Mark’s card slip, giving me a wide berth as she drops it off, though I don’t miss the quirk of her brow when Mark leans in and kisses my cheek.
“I did too,” he says softly. “I’d like to do it again sometime.”
I nod, mute. Not from anticipation… but because another man’s lips haven’t touched me in years. My body recoils at the contact, visceral and sharp.
Craving Hunter.
Wanting to get as far from anyone else as possible.