Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
It’s not Maddox. Not even close.
Hunter fucking Cole. What could he possibly want now? I thought I had gotten my point across, but clearly not.
Hunter: You blew me off, Savage.
Lyra: I thought I told you to delete my number.
Hunter: I’m not going away any time soon.
Lyra: Drop dead.
I huff and puff, my hands balling into frustrated fists as I do everything in my power not to toss my phone at the wall just to get rid of him. I am completely aware that I have the power to block him, but for whatever reason, I haven’t done it yet.
Maybe I really am a sucker for punishment.
Another text comes through, and I check it much slower this time, needing to brace myself for whatever bullshit he decided was worth his time to type out.
Hunter: Working tonight? What time do you get off?
He’s got to be kidding me. Is he really that delusional? And why the hell does he make me want to throw a full-blown tantrum in the middle of the street?
I know I shouldn’t, but I respond anyway.
Lyra: Let me reiterate. DROP. DEAD!
I jab the screen to send it, then pause for a moment to calm myself. I’m only a block away from Black Velvet, and I lean up against the wall of a mini-mart, trying to find the will to resist calling this asshole to give him a piece of my mind. Honestly, he’s probably going to assume that’s my way of flirting.
I count to ten, taking slow, purposeful breaths, only when I get all the way to ten, it becomes painfully clear that my little meditation technique isn’t even close to working, so I start over.
I get all the way to seventeen and am only just grasping the edges of my sanity when a matte black Challenger pulls up on the opposite side of the road, rolling to a stop before cutting the engine, and I don’t know why, but it holds my full attention. It’s sleek and sexy, the exact kind of car I would spend hours racing through the streets in.
I can’t tear my gaze away as I watch the driver swing the door wide before stepping out onto the street. And my whole fucking jaw drops.
You’ve got to be shitting me.
That rat bastard. Is he actually stalking me? What other reason could he possibly have for this?
Hunter stands across the street, hovering by his car as he looks over his messages, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. His head lifts a moment later, and as he glances up and down the street, I instinctively sink back into the shadows, keeping myself hidden as I swallow over the lump in my throat.
I severely underestimated this guy.
He keeps looking at his phone, and after a moment, he walks in the opposite direction, not once looking back at me. Maybe he isn’t stalking me after all. I mean, if he were, this would seem a little counterproductive, right?
My hands shake at my sides, and while I know that I should take off at a sprint while his back is turned, I find myself slipping out from the shadows and following him. I have to take big strides to keep up with his pace, and I almost bark a laugh as I realize that I’m now the deranged stalker.
Am I really following this asshole?
What is wrong with me?
Keeping to the shadows, I follow Hunter through the city streets, doing my best to stay hidden. He takes a right, and I have to cut across the street to take the next left. I feel like I’m walking around a maze, and the alarms in my head all sound at once. Maybe this is a trap. Maybe he knows I’m here and is leading me somewhere I won’t be able to escape. But that’s absurd. He hasn’t glanced back even once. There’s no way he knows I’m here.
I follow for another few minutes, painfully aware that my inventory isn’t getting done, but I can’t turn back now. Hunter stops in front of an old apartment building and glances down at his phone again before skipping up the stairs to the main entrance.
He enters a code into the keypad by the door, and it buzzes loudly through the street before he pulls the door open and slips inside.
Shit. Maybe this is where he lives. But then, why park so far away? That doesn’t make sense. Either way, it’s none of my business, and all I’ve done is made myself late for work. Now the girls are going to have to open on their own while I scramble to finish everything. I guess they can handle it, though. They could probably do it blindfolded.
Fuck.
I should turn back. I should haul ass and leave.
I keep walking, hurrying toward the apartment building and skipping up the same stairs. I pull on the door, finding it locked, and not knowing where to go from here, I press the intercom button for as many of the apartments as I can until a man’s voice comes through the speaker. “What?”