Page 146 of Boys Who Hunt
God-fucking-dammit, the way she looks at him makes me antsy for my knife.
She nods. “A little bruised and beaten up … but I’m alive.”
The way she smiles back when he smiles at her, fuck, it makes me want to gouge out more eyes.
What is wrong with me?
“We gotta do something about these bodies, though,” Heath says, approaching too.
“After we get her to safety,” I say, and I grab her arm to drag her away from the scene of the crime. “C’mon.”
She tears herself away from me. “No. I’m not leaving here without my stuff and—”
She chokes on her words like she’s afraid she’ll say something she shouldn’t.
My eyes narrow. “Andwhat?”
A blush forms on her cheeks while Max and Heath seem amused.
“Oh …” Heath mutters.
“What? What am I missing?” I growl. “We don’t have time for games here. Whatever. We’ll come back later for your clothes.” I grasp her wrist again. “Let’s go.”
“No,” she growls, jerking free. Before I can grasp her again, she’s already bolted off toward the building on the other end of the street where she parked her bike.
“Why didn’t you stop her?” I growl at Heath.
“Trust me when I say there’s nothing that would stop her from going up there,” he replies.
“Heath …” Max mutters.
But Heath refuses to look him in the eyes.
“I’m going with her,” Max says.
“Fine, then I’m coming too,” Heath growls back, removing his mask.
“Okay, don’t fucking wait on me,” I retort as we all follow her into the building. It’s grimy and completely worn down, with stairs that are barely kept together by broken wood and rusty metal. Everywhere I look, there are stains—on the walls, the floor, even the fucking ceiling—along with a ton of cobwebs and dust.
But by the time we get to her floor and see her struggling to even put the key into the lock, I pause.
This place … is her home?
I look around at all the dust and grime. Why would she live here out of all fucking places? Is this why she needs that money so badly, to move out of here? There’s no way anyone would break into a goddamn vault at the Phantom Society house, filled with fuckers who would kill you on sight if they’d only do it for the fun of it.
She finally manages to unlock the door but keeps it closed, breathing out loud like she’s preparing for something.
What is going on?
“C’mon, open the door. We don’t have time. There could be more of them coming out of the fucking woodwork any time now.”
Max places a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t feel rushed.”
“You’re one to talk. You weren’t even here in time. I was,” I growl back.
Max ignores me. “You can trust us.”
With what?!