The smell of fresh coffee wafting from my mug makes my mouth water, and I slide onto the bar stool before opening my laptop. The mysterious C is still holding strong against my persistent prodding of their firewalls, but the camera access has returned. Sipping my coffee, my eyes roll into the back of my head as a pop-up message appears.
Ghost, on the orders of the prez, you have access to the majority of the cameras around town. Do not try to pry within his privatehome or grounds. Retribution will be swift and deadly. Consider this a favor. You owe us one.
Fuck. I hate owing anyone anything. That’s how people get into trouble, being forced to do shit against their better judgment. It is a worry that William is now able to identify me by my hacker name, but ultimately, he’s a small fry in this web of monsters I’m tangled in.
I pull up my facial recognition program, and there’s not been one hit. That is unusual. It could be Christopher, Jonathan, and my brother are hiding out somewhere. Perhaps on one of their private islands where they can play out their sick fantasies without fear of retribution. I consider the possibility Christopher has put enough together and is employing his own vast wealth to cover his tracks as he hunts me, but his collection last season wasn’t nearly as successful as his board was hoping.
I can’t judge how hard he’s going to come after me. If I’m lucky, he has already decided I’m not worth the trouble and is focusing on another victim. The thought sours my stomach. I don’t want anyone hurt in my stead. I have enough guilt from my childhood, and I don’t need it as an adult too. But to show my hand too early will mean I am not deep enough to stop this vast enterprise once and for all. I need to worm into Jonathan’s grasp a little stro?—
The door opens, and the tapping of nails precedes Charlie’s excited wiggling at seeing me. I glare at the dog responsible for my unstoppable orgasm. Without his interference, I would not have lost it in front of Hunter. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
“Morning,” Hunter greets with a wide smile as he slides a cardboard box onto the counter. The smell makes my stomach rumble, and the noise echoes in the room.
Hunter raises a brow as he grabs two plates from the cupboard and places them by the delicious smelling box. “Worked up an appetite?” he asks.
I roll my eyes as I sip my coffee. I might not always get people’s hidden meanings or undertones, but this is so obvious—like a slap to the face.
“Ravenous.” I startle at my response. I don’t get hungry, probably because of something Jonathan broke in me. Being starved was one of his favorite forms of control and punishment, as it was easy to manipulate people too weak to fight back.
Hunter chuckles as he prepares his coffee before opening the box that has stolen my attention. The peach pie came in an identical bakery box, and if that’s an indication of the quality of food, I’m looking forward to the delicious baked treats inside.
He places a couple of flaky croissants, some danishes, and a few babkas on a plate. “Help yourself. I didn’t know what you would prefer.”
All of themis on the tip of my tongue, but I pick up a danish and bite into it, a groan rumbling in my throat. It’s still slightly warm, and oh so fucking delicious.
“That’s amazing,” I tell him.
He stares at my lips, his eyes growing darker. “You have a little...”
I swipe the edge of my bottom lip with my finger and suck it in my mouth.
“No.” He taps the top right of his lip. I try again, and he chuckles as I come up empty.
“You’re fucking with me,” I mutter.
He reaches out, and I freeze as he runs his thumb over my bottom lip. The side I missed. His eyes flare, his pupils expanding as he pushes past my lips. My tongue swipes his skin, and sure enough, I taste the sweetness of strawberry jelly.
I suck harder, keeping eye contact. His throat bobs.Two can play this game, Mr. King.
He clears his throat and drags his thumb from between my lips before selecting a croissant for himself and dropping onto the stool next to me. “What are your plans for today?”
“First, I need to order some clothes.”
His lips twitch. “You are welcome to mine.”
“I prefer my own. Then I need to dig a little deeper into Christopher. He’s either covering his tracks, or he’s sequestered away in one of Jonathan’s hideouts, doing unspeakably horrific things to women.”
“Covering his tracks seems like an odd thing to do unless he’s figured out you are a smart resourceful hacker.”
I know how skilled I am, and I’ve never been one to seek accolades. You can’t when you are playing fast and loose with the law. But Hunter acknowledging me as smart does something funny to my stomach.
“Agreed. He must know I changed my name on the flight manifest, but he might think I had help with that.”
“What was your cover story?”
“A vet nurse fired for rebuffing her boss’s advances.”
“Who owns a penthouse apartment in the most expensive district of Chicago?”
