My nerves settle and my resolve hardens as I firm up my next steps. No running—for now. No one knows where I am, and there’s nothing to link me to Hunter outside of being sighted in the airport. And if the masses come looking, it will be met with the force of the Desert Reapers. I add checking into their dealings to my list. I vaguely remember they are an ethical, above board, new age motorcycle club. At least on the surface. Time to delve a little deeper.
I scrub myself clean using Hunter’s mouthwatering shower gel in the absence of my own, the slimy tendrils of evil finally leeching from my pores under the near scalding water. Stepping out, I wrap myself in a fluffy heated black towel, then brush my teeth while staring at my reflection. My eyes still look a little wild, like my brain hasn’t caught up to the fact we have stopped running. I wrestle a brush through my long dark hair, then exit the bathroom in a cloud of lemon and sandalwood.
My gaze falls on the open bedroom door, which I’m ninety-nine percent sure I closed. I take a step back on silent feet and palm my gun from the open safe I’ve not yet secured. Checking the chamber is loaded, I debate swapping the towel for the shirt before I head out to face my foe. Seems worth the twenty seconds to at least put on underwear.
My hand lands next to the shirt as I keep my eyes on the door, listening for whoever is lurking in the apartment. I frown when my hand glides from my laptop to the shirt withoutencountering the expected lace. I glance down, taking a chance by taking my eyes off the door, only to find an empty space where my panties were. That’s unusual. Unless Hunter’s back already. He’d be the prime suspect in stealing my last pair of clean panties. What is he doing with them? Making a collection?I shake that thought off, refusing to follow where it led. If it was him, he would be standing in the corner of the room with them dangling from his fingers like a cat that got the cream. No. It doesn’t make any sense. I drop the towel and shrug on Hunter’s shirt one handed, keeping my gun in my hand and my eyes pinned on the hallway. I can’t button one handed, so I guess I’ll have to risk flashing the intruder. The rock music is fed throughout the apartment, so the moment is punctuated by Aerosmith singing about love in an elevator. I’ve never understood the lyrics, but the tune is catchy.
Soundlessly, I move to the door and look down the hallway to Hunter’s bedroom door. Closed. The bathroom door is still open, and I clear that room quickly before taking the four steps to the edge of the living area. A quick scan doesn’t reveal anyone or anything suspicious. There’s only the island someone could be crouched behind. I swallow the knot in my throat and steady my heartbeat as I shift silently around the wall, ready to blow out the kneecaps of whoever is risking their lives. Always aim for the shoulder or kneecaps first; it’s the best way to incapacitate to get answers.
My eyebrows hit my hairline as I find my thief is none other than the monster Charlie.
White lace dangles from his mouth, and he crouches in what I’m assuming is supposed to be a playful pose. Looks aggressive to me. How does Hunter live with that beast?
“Just like your daddy,” I grumble as I flick the safety on the gun and retrace my steps back into the guest room beforereturning the weapon to the safe. Shooting my gracious host’s dog seems like overkill.
I’m also giving Charlie the chance to rethink his actions and relinquish my underwear.
Moving back into the living area, I find that no, his mini timeout didn’t succeed in him second guessing his poor decision making. I take a step closer to him, and he winks at me. Seriously. How does a dog wink? That’s got to be a weird thing. “Be a good boy and give me my panties back.”
He chuffs like he’s laughing at me, then spins in a circle and dives between my legs. I squeak in shock as his velvet fur brushes against me as he makes a mad dash for the couch.
I roll my eyes to the ceiling. “You have got to be kidding me.”
I stalk after Charlie, the stupid pantie stealing mutt. “Hey! Those aren’t yours.”
He flips on his back and shows me his belly. That’s a sign of submission, right? Does that mean he’s relinquishing my underwear? His fangs poke through the lace as he side-eyes my approach.
“That’s right, nice and slow. Give Ellie her panties back before your daddy gets home, and I’ll give you a nice treat.”
Charlie’s eyes widen, and I realize too late I’ve said some kind of sleeper trigger word. He spins over in a flurry of paws and launches himself off the couch, bumping his head on the table as he barrels past me and runs circles around the room. Confused and a little nervous, I jump onto the couch for safety and eyeball the crazy mutt.
“Charlie, calm down. I need those.”
He skids to a stop at the other end of the couch and hunches down, his eyes bright as he focuses on me.
Oh shit…
Chapter Nineteen
Hunter
If that was my loot, I’d refuse to relinquish it also. Oh, wait.
Iplay a hundred different ways to communicate to the clueless woman in my apartment that she needs to play along with what’s about to happen. William complains about his wild daughter and her antics, and I nod along, regretting not grabbing Eleanor’s phone number before I left.
I slot my key into the door, pausing to face William.
“Don’t interrogate her, Will. I don’t want you to scare away the first woman I have brought back here.”
He narrows his eyes, and his brows lower. “You really like her.” A statement, not a question.
A sigh escapes me. “Tone it down. She’s shy and a little awkward.”
He quirks a brow, his lips twitching. “Never took you for the nerd type.”
I snort. “You have no idea what my type is.”
“Open the door, Hunter. I want to introduce myself to the woman you brought to my town.”
