Page 118 of Poison Aches

“Because you don’t know what to do with all that wealth?” I croak.

“No. I know exactly what to do with it…including securing your dreams, your entire deceptive life, but most importantly, my wealth can secure your attention, Angel.”

For some reason, that does something to me.

Not anger. Not annoyance… something.

Secure, not buy.

“Why?”

“You have to be a little bit more specific, Angel,” he says softly.

“Why are you going to New York?” I demand, suddenly feeling like I’m suffocating in slow motion.

“Same as you. To hunt.”

A chill goes down my spine. He’s not lying…and he knows what exactly I’ve been up to.

“Hunt?”

“Is it too far off from what you claim I do?” he questions with a half-smile at the corner of his lips that threatens to reveal something he never shows…the little dimple on his left cheek that I so often see in my dreams.

“Were you hunting me?” I demand.

“I don’t need to hunt you, Angel… unless you’re into that, then I’ll always adjust to accommodate you.”

My God.

Something is different.

The way he’s behaving, the way he’s looking at me, the veiled threats…the things he knows. What is going on?

“You just said you use your wealth to secure my deceptive life and my dreams…explain.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

It takes me a beat to understand and when I do, I think I’m halfway to my grave.

“I…”

“Yes, Angel. Your hack job is not as flawless as you think. I’ve been warding interested parties off your scent for a while now.”

Jesus Christ.

Just when I thought I was clever and doing this in such a way that no one has yet caught me.

“H-how,” I stutter, then clear my throat as my entire body is covered with goosebumps. “How long?”

“Since you started your hunt.”

HE KNOWS EVERYTHING.

He knows I’ve been hunting.

And he knows who exactly I’ve been looking for.

“You’re wrong,” I croak, trying to deny it past the mess in my chest.

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