15. Chapter 15
Chapter 15
The Huntress
Jude hasn’t told Henry. They’ve been here two weeks now, and he’s still kept the information to himself. I don’t even know why I told him about Ben—maybe it was to get ahead of what I knew he’d find if he looked into it. I mean, I needed to get ahead of his search, but also...
I just wanted to.
And now, I’m so fucked up from that, I’ve avoided him outside of necessary interactions, which thankfully isn’t much. I leave for work in the evening, get home in the early morning hours, and we never seem to cross paths much anymore. They’re immersed in their hit, and I’m biding my time before the desire to hunt strikes again.
‘Or to fuck Jude. We know that’s what you really want.’
“No,” I say to myself as I dab the lipstick on my mouth. He tried to kiss me, and I turned him down. It doesn’t matter how much curiosity has been building beneath the surface. There’s no going back from that. I saw the look on Henry’s face when we walked in at the same time. He’d murder Jude for touching me.
And I might, too.
I drum my freshly painted black nails on the top of the bathroom counter as my phone buzzes. I glance at the notification, seeing the costume party later tonight. I should go to it—it’s an easy hunt, and I never miss one of those...
‘You’re not acting like your normal self.’
I roll my eyes, unphased as I stand to my feet. I know I’m not normal, but for the record, neither is anyone else staying in my apartment. My phone buzzes again, and I blow out a sharp breath as I lean over to see what it is now.
Unknown: I’m still here.
I stare at the message, furrowing my brow as my mind brings back the first message I received from an unknown number. Jude? Is he trying to say we haven’t talked in the last week or so? The thought that he’s noticed draws out a strange feeling of excitement, rivaling that of my hunts. I shove my phone in my pocket, and head for his little cave—the one I swear he never leaves.
My palms feel clammy as I reach for the doorknob, and then pause, deciding to knock. I rap my knuckles twice on the door, and then wait.
“Yeah?”
I turn the doorknob and blink to adjust my eyes to the dimly lit room. “It’s two o’clock in the afternoon.”
Jude whips his head from his computer, surprise written on his face. “What’s up?”
“You sent me a text.”
Slowly, he shakes his head. “Nope.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
I pull my phone out of my pocket, seeing another text.
Unknown: I’m keeping an eye on you.
My heart jumps to my throat, my head starting to spin—but I push it away. “Nothing. I guess it was a wrong number.” Asshole.
“Here.” Jude picks up his phone from the desk, quickly typing out something.
Unknown: Jude.
It comes up in a different thread, and my chest tightens. I save his contact information, just solely to save myself the embarrassment in the future. Fucking humiliation rattles my core as I realize I’m disappointed. And now worried. Painfully worried. But then again, I’ve seen plenty of videos of people toying with random numbers—and they haven’t said anything incriminating.
“Are you getting texts from someone you don’t know?” Jude asks the question slowly, but also nonchalantly—like he couldn’t care less.
“No,” I answer him, looking up from the screen as I lock it. “I mean, yeah, but I think it’s just the wrong number.”
“Hmm. I can check for you.”
I roll my eyes. “No thanks, hound boy. Anyway, I have plans tonight, so I’ll see you around.” I clear my throat, and then spin on my heels.
“We’re going out tonight, too.” Jude’s voice stops me in the doorway. “To a costume party on the north side.”
I freeze, turning back to face him. “Why?”
“Apparently, the target will be there.”
My heart jumps to my throat. “Oh? Sex club parties your thing?”
His brows shoot skyward. “I never said it was at a sex club. Are they your thing?”
Oh fuck.
“I, uh, I heard about it at work,” I say quickly. “They happen often around here, and the costumes give the whole thing anonymity. You know, you can be whoever you want to be—and not worry about repercussions.”
“Yeah... Nothing like having sex with strangers. Swapping STDs never sounded so fucking intriguing.” The disgust in his voice is palpable—as is the bitterness.
“No one said it has to be strangers... But you must not have gotten laid in a long time,” I scoff, matching his energy.
He pops his jaw. “Why do you say that?”
I cock a hip, folding my arms across my chest. “Because you wouldn’t be so jealous of a bunch of strangers swapping STDs if you had been getting your dick wet . ”
“You got me,” he says flatly, though his eyes burn with something dark and intriguing. “That’s exactly it. I’m jealous of all the people who can go out and fuck without feeling. It must be nice. But that’s not what I was asking you about.”
My chest instantly tightens at the implied confession—and what else he was asking. I change the subject. “How many women have you been with?”
“That’s a highly inappropriate question.”
“Only to a man ashamed of his body count.”
“Jeez, you’re just as bad as they are,” Jude snaps at me. “I don’t have a fucking body count. I have past girlfriends. Who I cared about. They aren’t just notches in my bedpost.”
I swallow hard, jealousy creeping into my chest. “Yeah, right.”
Jude glares up at me. “I have work to do.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, feeling like an idiot all of the sudden. “Sorry.” I open the bedroom door, desperate to get away from him and also reminded of why I was avoiding him.
“I heard the party will be hot,” he calls out as just as the door closes. “And by the way, it’s only three, so you can go ahead and laugh your ass off.”
That’s still two more than me.
But I’ve had enough for a fucking lifetime. I never want someone to touch me again. Well, maybe. My mind still tempts me with the thoughts of what might have happened had I let Jude kiss me.
‘He’d have taken more.’
I breathe out a sigh as I linger in the hallway, catching sight of Henry carrying a tuxedo on a hanger with clear plastic around it. My brother will be there tonight. It’s a huge risk. But I need a rush, something that can distract me from the way I want to open up to my brother’s best friend.
‘It is a costume party, after all.’
And I can be anyone I want tonight, Black Widow or otherwise. I chew the inside of my cheek as I head back for my own room, a shitstorm fantasy already funneling through my mind like a tornado. Maybe I could let someone touch me if I was someone else tonight.
***
I wait for Jude and Henry to leave before I move. I have no idea what either of them are in—other than spotting the tux my brother had. I’ll have to feel it out, keep my distance if that’s what I need to do, or get closer... if that’s what I want to do.
My eyes slide over my black leather shorts with a matching corset on the top. A sheer black long sleeve top is over it to distort my tattoos, but I know it’s a risk in and of itself. However, it only fuels my adrenaline for the night ahead.
I pull my hair up into a high ponytail and place the rabbit mask over my face. My lips are painted black to match. My thigh high boots cover more skin, though it doesn’t prevent me from having sex appeal.
‘He’ll recognize you, and you know it.’
I smirk at myself in the mirror, and then grab my small cross body purse. I only have one small baggy inside of it, and it’s just a backup plan. Tonight, I am whoever I want to be...
Which means I don’t have to be broken.
My phone pings with the notification of my Uber arriving. I roll my shoulders once more and then give Cash a pet on the head. “Wish me luck, boy.”
He lets out a huff.
“I’d take you if I could, but I think that might be a dead giveaway.” I give him one last smile as I exit, leaving the door open for him to prowl around the apartment as much as he wants to. My boots click as I make my way to the elevator and then to the BMW parked alongside the curb. I slide into the backseat, mask still in place.
The driver, a young woman, doesn’t ask for details, and I don’t offer any up. However, the silence allows my brain to run rampant—and I don’t like that.
Maybe this is too risky.
What if Henry recognizes me?
He’ll be too hyper-focused on his target.
Who is his target? Maybe I should’ve asked.
Stop overthinking it. I can get what I want tonight.
‘You’ll be just like him, little girl.’
Bile rises in my throat at the mention. Not tonight. Please. I don’t want to be that girl. With that small prayer, my head stops buzzing, and the car pulls up outside of the building. I thank the driver and climb out, already seeing women in bikinis and lingerie with masks heading into the building.
‘No one would pick you over them.’
I glance down at my body, a lump growing in my throat.
‘You’re just his disgusting leftovers.’
Shaking my head, I push past the women, pulling up my VIP ticket. They mutter curses at me, but I ignore them. They’ll get their turn at the door and be let in solely because they’re beautiful. But they’re not on the same mission as me. I can’t stop thinking about the options that he’s got for the evening.
‘You have plenty of options. Someone will be desperate and horny.’
And then I’ll drop them in a dark room.
Smiling at that, I flash my pass to the men at the door. They give me the thumbs up and let me in. It pays to have connections like Sarah, who’s close to the owner of the bar. As I step through, I’m met with blacklights, heavy sex-synth beats, and a lot of people.
How the fuck am I supposed to find him? I know how these parties work, and there are plenty of rooms for activities—and finding Jude might mean finding Henry, too. I slide through the crowd, eyes peeled for a guy Jude’s height. I don’t know what he’s wearing, and I start beating myself up for not paying attention.
Where are you?
The dance floor is devoid of anyone who even comes close, and as I catch sight of the bar, I immediately recognize the tux I saw on the hanger, paired with a Scream mask.
Cute, Henry. Really fucking cute.
But the harder I look, I don’t see Jude. Did he not come? Is he hidden away doing surveillance? My heart thumps in my chest. I’m here to experiment. To be with someone in way that doesn’t involve murdering them. Well, at least try to, anyway.
My phone vibrates. I pull it out, bodies bumping into me and blurring the screen as I open the message—and then nearly vomit.
Unknown: You make a hideous bunny.
Panic rolling down my spine, I can’t help myself.
Me: Who the fuck is this?
They don’t immediately reply, and out of frustration, I shove my phone back into my purse. I’m the fucking Black Widow. I can take anyone who tries to intimidate me. Samuel Erickson didn’t even win against me. However, before I can finish my inner hype, a deep voice rumbles in my ear.
“I knew you’d show up.”
My thighs clench at the familiar voice, and instead of turning around to face him, I lean into his chest, closing my eyes. I can be whoever I want.
And tonight, I want to be free.
His breath audibly catches in a break in the song playing, and I expect him to pull away. But instead, his hand threads around my waist, and he turns us, putting his back to my brother and his best friend. He knows the risk, but he’s taking it anyway—and I’m suddenly very intrigued.