Page 36 of Hunted in the Shadows
Cliff heaved like he might vomit, but his panting words were laced with spite. “Would’ve—taken my chances—walking across the country if—I knew you ran the shop.”
“It’s my girlfriend’s shop, you idiot.” She bared her teeth and shoved the gun closer to his head. “Who sent you after her?”
He glared between her and the gun’s barrel. “No one.” A wheeze weakened his voice as he managed to straighten. “I was defending a friend.”
“Oh, bullshit. Like your freakishly tall attack dog needs a—” She stiffened when she glanced in Jon’s direction and foundmehovering beside him.
All at once, my racing mind caught up with the familiarity of her name.HeartbreakerGwen.HunterGwen. And as I watched her hands tighten on the gun and turn toward me, I remembered—impeccable marksmanGwen. I shuddered but didn’t dare budge so much as a finger. One wrong move and a bullet might say hello to my body instead of just my wing.
Jon stepped in front of me without hesitation. “Sylvia’s not a threat,” he said evenly. His hand tensed toward his pocket, prepared to introduce another weapon to the mix. “But if you don’t move that gun off her, we’re gonna have a problem that we can’t come back from.”
Gwen laughed coldly. “We cleared the point of no return years ago, Nowak.”
"Would you put the gun down?" Cliff snapped.
“No!” When I peeked over Jon’s shoulder, I saw that she’d rounded the weapon back on Cliff like she was trying to assess who was the greater threat between them. “You break onto our property with that little fucking monster, attack my girl, and you expect me to just bend over for you?"
“It’s a misunderstanding!” Hannah blurted. She still looked shaken as she drifted away from the stairs. She held up her hands, glancing placatingly from face to face. “Look—whatever the hell is going on, let’s talk it over inside before the whole town sees you two waving guns around like it’s the Fourth ofJuly.”
“Coffee?” Hannah entered the dining area with a steaming pot. It shook slightly in her trembling hands. Cliff leaned back in his chair with crossed arms and eyed her like she’d just offered freshly brewed poison. She laughed tightly at his reaction. “It’s locally sourced.”
“There’s a roastery here?” Jon asked. From my perch on his shoulder, I felt a sliver of his tension ease. His eagerness coaxed a faint smile to my lips.
“Right off Heritage Avenue,” Hannah said. “The owner’s a friend of my brother. They’ve been open a little over a year now, and we were so worried about people being too attached to the national chains to give it a chance, but wouldn’t you know it, they’ve got a line out the door every morning. It’s nice to see more young businesses thriving in this little pocket of the world, don’t you think?”
She spoke rapidly, her hand trembling as she finished filling the mugs. Jon took no more than a sip before she blurted, “How is it?”
“Really good,” Jon said without an ounce of pretense. “Am I tasting chicory?”
He made an effort to brighten his expression—a peace offering if I ever saw one.
It worked—Hannah smiled. “You know your coffee.”
“I worked at a shop in high school. I can appreciate a good blend. I’m a little rusty with making anything that doesn’t come from a packet, though.”
I didn’t have to guess why Jon's time at the coffee shop ended. The thought of him in that psychiatric ward, robbed of every great and small joy, made me too cold inside to bear.
Hannah offered a little smile to Cliff and pushed his mug closer. “You sure you won’t give it a try? Come on, I’m sorry for almost stabbing you.”
He remained stoic. “Keep yoursorry. You didn’t come close.”
Her cowed expression tempted me to apologize on Cliff’s behalf, but she hurried back into the kitchen before I could work up the nerve. Even with only the three of us at the table now, a heavy beat of silence shrouded the room.
I nudged Jon’s neck with my elbow. “Why so tense?” I peeked at the archway that led into the kitchen, where Hannah busied herself in front of the stove and murmured to Gwen beside her. “If you thought Gwen was plotting to kill me, you’d give me a fair warning, right?”
Little fucking monster. I couldn’t shake those words.
“She would’ve tried by now.” His chuckle was taut. “I’m just not used to you being out in the open with other people this long. It’s getting under my skin.”
“Oh,right.” I waited until he took another sip of coffee before adding. “You prefer me to be your dirty little secret.” He nearly sputtered out his sip while I giggled unabashedly.
After a beat, Jon recovered, his tone lowering to a tantalizing decibel. “Actually, yeah. I like that no one else but me knows you like I do. I want to keep it that way.”
Just like that, I was back in the spectral plane in my mind—imagining what he could do to me there. What hewantedto do.
Color flooded my cheeks. “I think I’ll mark your other shoulder for that one.”
Cliff hissed to Jon’s right, but for once, his annoyance wasn’t aimed at us. He pulled back in his seat to peer under the table. A roaming cat with a patchwork of orange and black fur had taken a particular interest in his leg, rubbing insistently. He cursed, nudging it gently with his boot in a fruitless attempt to shoo it away.
