Page 53 of Hunt Me
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’The need to know overtaking my rational thoughts.
I need to calm down for fucks sake.
If I don’t get this newfound possessive side of me in check, I’m going to end up pushing her towards believing the stories about us Skulls. And although I don’t give a fuck about what other people say about me I do care what my little deer thinks.
If she tries to leave, I will hunt her.
She had liked it earlier on, first in the sewer tunnels and then the museum. I could see it in the subtle signs of how her breath would hitch, followed by her drawing her lower lip between her teeth. The second time I hunted her, she initiated it, daring me with her big brown eyes that were framed by the black of my mask. And I’ll hunt her a third time and a time after that if I need to.
‘It means I know — knew — someone who’s all jokes and nothing serious. Those people keep a group going when times are tough. They bring light to the darkness.’Fauna admits, and the admiration in her voice has the possessiveness in me calming temporarily.
There is something deeper to what she said — a connection that goes beyond just knowing someone. Fauna owes something to this person, be it her life or her sanity; there is something there to make such emotion come in the words she speaks.
I’ll find out more details about this person later.
‘Well, the clown is on his way, and his name's Liam,’Vish says.‘And he can’t wait to meet you, Fauna.’
Chapter Twenty-three
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Fauna
I’m holed up in an empty office block turned safe house for The Skulls, and we're acting like there's some newfound friendship between us. Well, Vishrut is anyway.
Ruaridh might have a different idea. The way I could feel the daggers that he was shooting Vish’s way whenever he would take a step towards me was clear for me to see. Ruaridh has also made it obvious he will not let me out of his sight when Vish is around. It’s either down to some weird sudden possessiveness or that he does not trust his men.
Or me.
Trust was never something that came quickly for me and I’m not about to change my ways just because one guy ate me out in a shower and another smiled my way for fucks sake. No matter how nice that shower was and how much I want another one, I’m not caving to my body’s needs.
I’m need to get out of here, away from these two.
The girls need me to.
‘It’s going to be dark again soon. Would you like to come, and we'll sort out a spot for tonight?’Ruaridh asks, grinning suggestively,‘Or if you would prefer, you can sleep on top of me since you were such a fan of that position last night.’
Memories of last night come flooding back to the forefront of my mind, and I can’t help but cringe. I’d managed to avoid any embarrassment I may have felt about my drunken confessions, but now it is hitting me like a brick wall.
‘It’s been a hard winter, you know. I’ve started to question if each one will be worse than the last. That humanity will keep evolving into these disgusting beings and that there’s truly no hope anymore. That I will never sleep properly again.’
As if by some irony, personally coordinated by the apocalypse gods themselves, I’d had the best time curled up on Ruaridh’s lap, despite it only being short.
Last night, we both drank our fair share of alcohol, but that hasn’t changed things for me in the past. Isla and I used to sneak plenty, and one of us always managed to stay up for the watch no matter how bleary-eyed we were.
Drunk or not, we knew we would at least be able to warn the other, and then maybe we’d at least have some level of a fighting chance.
‘Don’t act like you weren’t begging for some human affection. I thought you might have burst into tears if I hadn’t given you a cuddle.’I taunt Ruaridh back, knowing full well that the volume of my voice is just loud enough for Vishrut to hear. And the returning laughter from the other side of the room confirms it.
‘You can’t be letting other people in on our secrets, mischief. You will wound my reputation as a crazy brutalist.’His facialexpressions convey a feigned hurt, and to add to the act, he brings a tattooed palm up to rest across his heart.
I roll my eyes at his theatrics — such a drama queen.
‘Don’t worry, Ru, we all know you’re a big cuddly bear just longing for some affection,’Vish hoots.
Suddenly, a tin of beans is launched across the room, hitting Vishrut with a thud.
‘Ah you fucker! You could have at least thrown an empty can.’
