“Electra Serran.” I leave out the part about Trenton’s role in the selection. Quinn would have a lot to say about it.
“Monta’s daughter?”
“Yeah.”
Another beat of loaded silence thickens the air.
Four mile markers later, Quinn grits out, “You were out. You were free! Why the hell would you agree to a fucking suicide mission?”
“Because you weren’t,” I reply quietly.
Quinn sits up to punch my shoulder. “You’re a fucking idiot, Reeve Rafferty.” Her voice hitches from emotion. “I should never have called you.”
“Youalwayscall me, understood?” I snap.
She wipes her eyes and nose on my too-long hoodie sleeves.
“I’m serious, Quinn.”
She still makes no promises. “Did she fall for you?”
I press my lips together. “Yeah.”
“Of course she did.”
I don’t know why she thinks that would be a given.
I’m about to mutter that just because she loves me doesn’t mean another woman would, when she asks, “Did you fall for her?”
Chapter 45
Electra
Ikick the cunning asshole’s camper, wishing it were his ribs. “You think he knew I found out who he really was?”
Calanthe scoots her lips to the side. “I mean, why else would he abandon his phone?”
I crush the buttons on either side of it, trying to turn it on, but the damn thing is out of battery. “How could he have known?”
“Babe, the guy’s a Hunter.” The gleam of pity in Calanthe’s stare riles me up even harder. “I bet they have an org chart of who’s who on thehunting-the-Hunterstask force.”
I curl my trembling fingers around the traitor’s phone, wanting to destroy everything he owns.
Calanthe wheedles the device out of my fingers. “Why don’t you go check the camper for clues again?”
I’ve already ransacked the fucking camper, and save for that cookbook with the dedication I ripped out and folded into angry squares so it’d fit inside the pocket of my leather jacket, there was nothing hinting at Reeve’s real identity.
My throat clenches tightly as the loopy pink scrawl scores my skull.
Dear Reevey…
Love, Quinn.
Worse than being used is being fooled.
Oh, how the asshole fooled me. Pretended he felt something for me when his heart belonged to another woman. Even wore their initials on his fucking shoe for the world to see.
Tears burn my lids, but I still don’t let them fall. He doesn’t deserve my sorrow; only my rage.
