Page 43 of Make Me Hunt
Still, since I’m here, I have the right to use it to my advantage. And because I didn’t find anything on 404, I decide to go to the club and try to get under the skin of the man I heard talking about capturing him.
I’m not going to get information from Ares that easily—that much I know. And I don’t need him asking questions either. So, I just have to re-orient myself.
I take the extra time in the shower, the water running over me as I try to clear my head. Too much has happened in the last twenty-four hours. Things I’ll never recover from—like this damn thing in my chest I want to rip open and throw away.
How the fuck can he be such a jerk and then play Prince Charming?
Maybe that’s just the way I see him, out of some fucked-up complex of being alone—that need to believe someone has your back.
I go to my closet, searching for something to wear. I’m thinking something sexy since I need information, and showing off legs, along with tits, is the most convenient way to get it. Let’s just say men open up easier.
I choose a black shirt unbuttoned just enough to see the outline of my bra, a plaid skirt, short enough to get anyone’s attention, stockings with a garter belt that peaks from beneath every time I make anywrongmove, and a pair of lace-up boots. Men eat this shit up—the good girl gone bad. They think you’re more gullible, and therefore, they have easy access to your panties.
That’s exactly what I want them to believe. That I could trade anything for information… for the right words.
I’ve just finished reapplying my mascara when I hear a knock on the door.
Who the fuck could it be?
I’m considering grabbing a knife on my way to the door, but I decide to check through the peephole first.
Ares.
The bastard has the nerve to show his face here.
I unlock the door and step back, letting him in. I know better than to leave him standing in the hallway—no matter what shit he just put me through.
Now, I regret not grabbing that knife. Maybe I could’ve taken him by surprise and just killed him right then.
But I’m psychotic enough to want to do it differently. In his own game. The way Elias died.
eighteen
-Ares-
I can’t say I wasn’t surprised to return home and find Brynn gone. I knew she had a wild side, but I never thought she’d abandon my bed after I fucked her senseless.
I also know something happened to her in the past, and last night was just the awakening of that trauma.
If she were any other living, breathing being on this planet, I’d probably ignore her for the rest of her life, or worse, kill her for disobeying my orders. But I needed answers before I made that call. And that somehow brought me to her apartment door.
I could’ve just called. I’m just not sure how I’d handle anoor whatever shitty answer she might’ve given me.
She looks insanely hot when she answers the door, too overdressed to stay in, and I have a feeling I’m about to interrupt her plans for the evening.
From now on, she needs to get it through her head that she has to run every single one of her plans by me first. That’s how things will work between us.
But first, I need to get to the bottom of whatever happened to her last night.
“Next time I’ll leave you a voicemail, since I’m starting to think you don’t know how to read,” I mutter, hoping she understands I’m not going to let this slide—no matter her excuse.
“Next time, maybe you don’t ask me to stay knowing you’ve got your blonde bitch coming over,” she snaps, arching a brow, looking at me like she might rip my head off any second. “Or were you hoping for a threesome? Because you should know that’s not my thing.”
I can barely hold back from laughing. I know I let her misread my relationship with my sister, Phro. But that’s just because Brynn had it coming.
I don’t have time for emotional management. I saw the fucking texts she sent to that bartender. She needs to understand that if she’s accepting to go out on a date with a fucking man she just met, then I can play the same card, but on a whole different level.
I’m not the kind to get played. She should feel lucky because I handled things so delicately, and didn’t make ground meat out of the guy—right in front of her. Though I can’t deny I’m still considering it.
