Page 41 of Fanged Desire
Hunter tilted her head, her gaze steady, waiting.
Under the scrutiny of her patient eyes, I swallowed against the lump in my throat, drawing my knees to my chin. “Before Penelope disappeared, I was... different.”
“Different as in, donning scrubs instead of stilettos?”
“No – well, yes – but there’s more.” I rolled my eyes, but I was grateful for her lighthearted commentary. She had a way of making major problems seem manageable, like nothing was too overwhelming to bear when she was by my side.
“I was a doctor – a surgeon – and I worked hard to get there. My job was my life, it was all I focused on.” I propped my chin on my knees, mumbling the words like saying them with confidence would expose my transgressions. “I didn’t leave much room for Penelope or anyone else, really.”
The memories were jagged and raw, glass shards in my heart, each one delivering a spike of regret I hadn’t allowed myself to fully confront. “The times I did check in with her, I could tell she was struggling. Addiction, bad friends, worse boyfriends… but I didn’t know how bad it was. I didn’t want to know, I think.”
Hunter stayed silent, listening. Those unblinking eyes were fixed on me, putting together the many mismatched pieces that made up one Addison Moore. I felt exposed, vulnerable, but her presence was steadying, like an anchor holding me down as I let the guilt spill out.
“If I’d been there for her, really been there...” My voice cracked and I looked away, tearing up a stray piece of newspaper at my feet. “Maybe she wouldn’t have ended up in this mess. Maybe she’d still be safe.”
Hunter hauled herself upright, balancing her elbows on her knees as she waited for me to look at her. “You’re not responsible for what happened to her, Addison.”
When I dropped my eyes again, Hunter scooted closer. She pinched my chin between her fingers, tilting my face toward her, and I reluctantly met her gaze. Her voice was soft, but steady as always, firm beneath the surface with a reassurance I didn’t know I needed. “Penelope is an adult. She made her choices, just like you made yours.”
I shook my head, all of those missed opportunities tumbling around in my skull.
“Maybe,” I muttered, though the guilt didn’t ease. “I just… can’t stop thinking I could have done something different.”
Hunter’s hand rested on my knee for a brief moment, simultaneously grounding me and lifting me from my morbid inner turmoil. “It’s not your fault, Addison.”
“Maybe.” I forced a small smile. And, in an attempt to lighten the mood, I redirected the conversation, eager to move on from my never ending guilt and regret.
“But enough about me. What about you? It’s obvious your job is your whole world too.” I took a sip of my now-cold coffee, grimacing. “You can’t tell me you don’t live at your office. All evidence points to the contrary.”
Hunter let out a laugh, and the sound was a welcome break from the heaviness that hung between us. “What can I say? Sales doesn’t leave much room for... anything else.”
When it was clear I was expecting more and ready to wait for it, coffee cup balanced on my knee, Hunter sighed. She settled back against the wall, crossing her legs in a relaxed sprawl. “My coworkers – they’re my world, really. We’re a little team. Dysfunctional, probably, but it works.”
This was a change in topic I could get behind. Learning more about my mysterious detective partner couldn’t hurt. I settled in, tucking my legs beneath me as I brought the cup to my lips. “And your coworkers are…?”
“Jordan, Maxine, River… Dylan, when she’s not too busy being an elusive asshole.” Hunter was surprisingly happy to share, tone softening with each name. There was a fondness creeping into her words that made me smile.
I sipped my bitter coffee, eager to learn more now that she was suddenly open to sharing personal tidbits. “They sound interesting.”
“Oh no, they’re ridiculous.” Hunter cackled, turning her eyes to the ceiling and running a hand through her tousled locks. “Jordan runs things with a terrifying level of enthusiasm, Maxine’s in everyone’s business. Dylan’s got this whole tortured soul thing going on – only recently absolved now that she’s got herself hitched, and River...”
She paused, grinning at some inside joke I wasn’t privy to. “River’s the wildcard. She’s got a habit of getting everyone into trouble and playing it off like it was an accident.”
The image of this close-knit, chaotic group of friends was oddly endearing, especially given how fiercely private Hunter seemed. Seeing her talk about them, relaxed and unguarded, felt like a glimpse into a side of her that she rarely showed.
“Wait, I’ve heard of Jordan.” I brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear, leaning back against the coffee table. “Jordan Lane, she owns the High Stakes enterprise. She’s your boss, right?”
Hunter shrugged, rueful smile tugging at her lips. “Something like that. Although she’s not exactly your typical corporate big shot. When I first met her, I thought she was cracked. Then I got to know her and I realized that’s just her personality.”
I cocked my head, taking in the easy way she spoke, the flippant flourish of her hands as she talked. There was a fondness there, a familiarity stronger than simply a relationship between boss and employee. They were friends, family even.
I shifted position, getting comfortable as I fished for more. “How exactly did you end up working at High Stakes, anyway?”
Hunter fell silent for a moment, like she was debating how much to share. I wanted to keep probing, keep her talking. Every divulgence was another small piece of the puzzle that was Hunter, and I wanted the full picture.
Hunter must have read it in my expression because she smirked, nudging me with the toe of her shoe. “Well done, you got me rambling. But you’ve got to let me keep some of my mystique intact. Let’s just say Jordan was in the right place at the right time and offered me an opportunity I couldn’t refuse.”
“Fine, fine.” I sighed with exaggerated resignation. “Anyway – a job in sales makes sense for you. With a smile like yours, you could have anyone eating out of your hand.”
