Page 48 of Hunted By Them

I squared up with another ball and swung again. This one hit him lower in the gut, and he howled, bending over. He turned as he held his stomach, and I took my third shot, which hit him in the ass. Connor yelped like a little dog and danced away like the green was on fire.

“What the hell, Sage,” he shouted, voice pitching high. “Security!”

“Security’s busy,” I hollered, rolling a fourth ball closer. “Not enough evidence? You were at work and then dinner? That’s what you told them.”

“It’s the truth,” he yelled back, holding out his hand like that would stop me.

“You don’t know the meaning of the word!”

The fifth shot clipped his kneecap. He cursed so creatively that two geese flew off. He managed to get out of the way of the sixth ball, and it ricocheted off the golf cart, sending his clients diving for cover.

“You think you can break into my apartment and trash it, then get away with it?” My breathing was heavy as I swung again, and this time the ball knocked over a bag of clubs. “You think you can cheat on me, stalk me, and then tear through my life like a toddler with scissors, and the rules won’t apply because your watch costs more than my car?”

“This is insane!” Connor yelled, half-bent, using a wedge as a cane. “She’s unhinged.”

I turned on the clients. “Gentlemen, a free pro tip. Connor doesn’t take rejection well, so if you decide to use him, then be prepared to be tied to him forever, or he will fuck your wife and then break into your house and redecorate with a bat. He’ll slice up your family photos and act like you’re the crazy one. Buyer beware.”

“Miss,” one of them began, hands up, corporate-smile-on. “Why don’t we⁠—”

“Talk about this? Be reasonable? I’m done being reasonable with men who only hear the word no when it’s convenient.” I let another ball fly. It missed Connor’s calf by a kiss and bounced off a sand rake.

He decided retreating wasn’t working. He half-jogged, half-limped toward me, waving off his clients.

“Go ahead,” he called over his shoulder, voice strained. “I’ll catch up.”

“Oh, you’ll catch something,” I muttered, and marched toward the golf cart. I hopped in and managed to get it turned around, but not before Connor grabbed the back and hung on like a fucking monkey. “Let go.”

“No, you’re acting insane, Sage.”

“I’m the one acting insane? At least I didn’t take a baseball bat to your car…at least, not yet.”

“Knock this shit off. I didn’t do anything.”

Connor’s voice rose at the end, which was his tell.

“Fuck you, Connor. I know you’re lying.”

We yelled the whole way. I couldn’t recall every word or where I left the cart, but I remembered the heat in my face and the relief of finally letting it all out.

“You’re fucking crazy! This is why I cheated on you.”

“You’re a piece of shit and a coward!”

“Am not!”

“Grow the fuck up, Connor.”

We reached the lobby, and every head turned. Good. I raised my voice on purpose.

“Connor Keating gave me a disease,” I announced, like a town crier reciting the news. Gasps. One pearl clutch. “And a lesson in humiliation I’ll never forget when he decided to spread the disease further by fucking one of your staff members. You might like your drink shaken, ladies, but be careful letting him stir anything else around here.”

“That’s a lie!” Connor’s face had gone a spectacular shade of plum. “I don’t have a disease.”

That was debatable. He might not actually have a disease, but he certainly was one.

“Is it?” I tilted my head. “Or is it just inconveniently true?”

Someone snorted near the bar. The desk attendant’s mouth had become a tiny O. The young man’s eyes were saucers.