Page 41 of Kandie Shoppe

A loud blaring like someone is laying on the horn draws every last person’s attention. Then there is Kandie’s little evil ass flooring Pa-Pete’s truck leaning out far enough to shoot me a bird.

“Dirty motherfucker,” she shouts out of the window, tearing down the street so fast she fishtails.

“I coulda told you that was going to happen,” Mr. Lemmonhopper chimes in as a rage burns through me like a grass fire.

“Letting LaShaun rub all up on you in front of everybody like that — I’m surprised she didn’t neuter you right then.” Shrugging, Mr. Lemonhopper shakes his head. “Truck’s still drivable, though. Ya might want to go get her before she does something else.”

Slapping dust from my jeans, I’m already heading over to my truck. The fucking door’s hot to the touch when I pull it open. “Dammit.”

Slamming the door shut, I take off after her.

She’s deep into Love land by the time I catch up with her. The way she’s going is unincorporated, for the most part. I don’t think she anticipated me putting out the fire as quickly as I did or that I would even be able to drive my truck. But that’swhat happens when you do shit half sober. You don’t think the execution is off; you make unnecessary errors.

She also doesn’t anticipate running out of gas. One thing I know for sure. Older people who don’t drive that much maybe fill their tanks once a month. Between her cousins taking her grandparents to their various appointments and errands, I’m not surprised to see her pulling over because she’s run out of gas.

Kandie bails out like an episode ofCOPS, taking the nearby woods. Her Stetson flies off, her two ponytails looking like thick ropes flying behind her.

Swerving to stop behind Pa-Pete’s truck, I set my flashers so I can see them after I track her ass down.

Gravel crunches under my boots. Lifting my head, I scent the air like the predator I am. She’s a fast little wildcat, but I’m an apex predator. I was born for this shit. Hunting her has been bred in me deep from the time of my Viking forbears, conquerors, and annihilators.

“Run, wildcat,” I call into the night. “Run as far and as fast as you can. When I catch you, it’s going to be your ass.”

Chapter

Twelve

Prey

Kandie

My legs are burningas I try to put as much distance between Ulysses’ low-down ass and me. I’m fast, but I can hear him gaining. “Oh, my Lord. Please, please, please don’t let him catch me.” I know that prayer is probably hitting on ignoring ears because I know Sky Daddy doesn’t take too kindly to burning folks' stuff up.

I don’t know what made me come this way. Way out here where my daddy built our house — instinct, I guess.

I pause at a tree, a stitch in my side making me take deep breaths. I don’t even know at this point.

Pine sap coats my hand, crickets chirp, and I know there are more than a few critters out here. Nothing too dangerous. There aren’t any bobcats out this way. That’s more out by Mimi’s house. Our families watch their migration just so that we don’t mistakenly run up on any cubs because they are close to becoming endangered and Mama-Pete made a deal with theforestry service just so our land could be protected as an animal reserve. One more roadblock for those greedy ass Shelbys.

Speaking of the worst of the absolute worst, I have the biggest baddest of them all hunting me. “Run.” He said, “As far and fast as you can.” And what did I do? Exactly what he said like a dumbass running farther and farther out so that he’d have no witnesses for whatever he intends.

The look of shock and awe on his face was priceless and worth whatever ass whooping he’s planning. It’s what he gets for disrespecting me like that with that hoe-ass LaShaun. He’s the one who made it so everyone knew we were together. Plus, going around telling people then having her hanging all over him. Nope. Nopity. Nope. Nope. I was going to just flatten all his tires, but then I got to thinking, what did he love most in this world besides his mom? His truck. Just like every guy around here.

“Ah.” I clamp my hand over my mouth when I hear a rustle of leaves from the underbrush. Heart hammering, I duck down, stitch paining my side. The trees around here vary between stick thin babies to ultra thick hundred-year-old pines and oaks. I step behind one just as I catch a glint of blond hair shining in the moonlight. I guess that Seal training didn’t quite take, and I guess he forgot this is my home.

I stifle the need to taunt him and brag.

“I know you’re here, wildcat.” His voice sounds guttural, almost scary in a totally inappropriately sexy way.

“I can smell you. The more you sweat running from me, the stronger your scent mixes with the vanilla-rose you’re wearing.” I almost sniff myself. What is he saying? He’s tracking me by scent?

“Y’all make that shit to ensnare men, but once you do, we can scent you anywhere. It’s like a compass telling me exactly where you are.” I don’t dare peek, scared he’s going to find me.

My breathing is starting to speed up and honestly, I don’t know if it’s fear or the growl in his voice evoking the sensations I definitely shouldn’t be having in my body from a man stalking me through the woods like a fox on a rabbit.

“Wildcat,” he calls, soft and cajoling. He’s close, much too close to me. “When I catch you, I’m fucking you.”

A shadow falls to the right of me. I jump out of his reach just as his arms swipe forward.

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