Page 28 of Make Me Hunt
I scramble for my keys, arms full of grocery bags, then somehow manage to wedge the key into the lock and kick the door open with my foot. It takes real skills to reach this level, and even better ones to shut it back with my foot, while still holding all the paper bags.
I’m walking toward the kitchen to dump the groceries on the counter, but I freeze a step short of dropping them on the floor when I see a large red box sitting in the middle of the living room. This time, there’s a note attached.
Fucking shit. What did I get myself into?
I just pray it’s not a head. The box isn’t tall enough for a face. That gives me some kind of comfort, but it is still big enough to fit a few limbs.
I lean in and grab the note. No blood this time, so that’s… something.
It’s the same handwriting, and I don’t doubt it could be from anyone but Ares.
October 26th. The Breach.
I know that date. The club’s throwing a Great Gatsby pre-Halloween party. It’s the ‘in’ thing lately. And that means a shitload of money. The entry ticket alone is a grand, and that doesn’t even cover high rollers' drinks, only the basic package.
I still don’t know what’s in the box, but I’m hoping it’s not something that used to be attached to a person. Still, I untie the bow and kick the lid open so hard that it flies across the room. I’m not usually so jumpy. But then again, I never received a real-life dick as a present before. At least not one that doesn’t have a body attached.
There’s fine silk wrapping paper hiding whatever’s in the box. And I only grab one corner, yanking it back so I can see inside. Being this close to any kind of gift from Ares still gives me chills.
But I calm down fast when I see a dress, a pair of shoes, and even a pair of panties.
The manipulative, controlling asshole!I curse, knowing damn well he wants me to wear it. All of it.
I take the dress out, it’s black with a few gold details braiding the hem like veins. Beads and feathers come together in what looks like an absolutely insane designer piece.
This shit had to cost a fortune. I’m no expert on clothes, but I recognize the brand as being of the highest luxury, and judging by the work and design, I’d say it’s hand sewn. Any girl would be impressed and probably fall flat on her back. Not me. I might like the dress, even the matching red-soled shoes.
But notthe panties.
Well, I don’t have anything against these particular panties because they’re sexy as hell. But they’re in that box to send me a message—I belong to him. He has rights and power over me. Or thinks he does. And it’s not just work-related. That’s the message he wants to send, and I got it loud and clear.
This might be leverage in finding out exactly what I want, but it could also mean trouble.
Despite the asshole behavior, Ares is dangerously easy on the eyes and has the complete package to ruin any woman he sets his mind to. Allowing him into my life could complicate things, especially if my suspicions turn out to be right and I’ll have to kill him.
I don’t want to, but eventually, I try on the dress and heels, and suddenly, a whole new woman is staring back at me in the mirror.
And if this is the version of me he wants, fine. This is the version he’ll get.
So, I can get what I want in return—answers.
twelve
-Brynn-
There are still five days until the party at The Breach, and I’m not going back to Elysium. Ares would’ve given me a sign if he needed me there, and I don’t want to risk having him throw a tantrum or put his hands on me in front of his employees again. But I can’t stay locked inside for five days. I’ve never had a real vacation, and the only time I’ve stayed in for so long was when Elias died. I’m not mentally prepared to go back there again. Especially when I’m barely holding on by a thread just to keep from fucking losing it.
Besides, staying away doesn’t really mean staying away—not for me. I need to do something with my time, so I decide to spend the day trying to dig up some information.
There’s a diner across the street from The Breach where Ares’s men occasionally show up to eat. The food’s pretty decent—if you’re into all-American shit like mac & cheese and greasy, black edged burgers. So, I just grab a corner table, far enough not to draw attention, keeping my hoodie up, like I’m listening to music through my earbuds. In reality, they’re spy-listening devices I ordered from some sketchy Chinese site. They’re not top-tier, but they had second-day delivery, so that made them very useful, especially since no one can tell them apart from regular earbuds.
Feels like I’ve got superpowers, and I can hear what everyone’s saying—including the damn frying pans the cook keeps slamming into the stove.
Why is everything in a diner so goddamn loud?
Pretty sure I’m going to be deaf after this. But at least I picked up some interesting information. Apparently, some of his people are gearing up for something big these days. That only reinforces my suspicions. What I didn’t know was that they’ve got 404. I learned that just a day before the party, but no clue whatsoever about wherethey might be keeping him. And I don’t have time to start investigating now. Not that I have any chance of finding him.
Overhearing Ares’s men talking about getting 404 was a lucky break. They don’t usually talk about that shit in public. So, I’m not expecting to get much more useful information. Not like I have time to anyway.
