Hunt Me! I Crave the Chase (Spooky Boys #3)

Part of me hoped it would bruise.

I deserved it.

When Blair started to cry I’d nearly lost control myself. He shook. He shook and shook and shook. His normally in-your-face attitude was missing. Like he’d been whittled down to nothing. Don’t let her change you, please, please, please—I begged silently, curled around him for as long as I could get away with.

All the while, I kept one ear on the hallway—always aware that we were on borrowed time.

Any moment Lydia could wake up.

Any moment she could find us.

And then where would we be?

Eventually, I’d had to let him go. He clutched at me when I did, and pulling his fingers from my pajamas was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Harder than stealing the key. Harder than my lessons. Harder than dealing with Lydia’s attention.

“I’m sorry,” I managed, voice rough. “I’m so sorry.” His nails bit into my hands as I peeled myself free, carefully sliding out of the closet. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Blair didn’t hear me. He was too lost in his own tears. He curled up into a little ball again, and I’d carefully slid the plate out into the hall before shutting the closet and locking it up again. This wasn’t over. I still needed to return the key to where I’d found it.

I still needed to climb into bed before Lydia discovered I was missing.

But I couldn’t leave him.

I couldn’t.

I stayed by the door all night long.

I cried.

I couldn’t seem to stop.

And all the while, I’d shoved my fist in my mouth and choked on every sound. Terrified that Blair would hear me. Terrified that he’d know I was crying too. Eventually he quieted down, having likely fallen asleep. And still I cried. Though the sobs grew softer, and I was left feeling like an empty husk as I listened to the hallway for threats, my heart sawed in two.

When the sun threatened to rise, I rose from my spot by the door.

I returned the key.

I fell into bed.

And I cried again.

I searched for my dog, just like I told Blair I would.

I searched for him and found jack shit except for a place to fall apart, and apparently a nosy werewolf. To say I’d been surprised to be cornered by my hookup in an alleyway would be the understatement of a century.

But I could admit now, I was really fucking grateful.

Sure it’d been weird at first, but his odd brand of awkward earnestness had quickly won me over. Also…his hugs were kinda fucking awesome. Warm and the right amount of sweaty, his arms tight and greedy, his body solid.

The cheeseburger had helped, but the hug and the laughter he’d caused had helped more. Like medicine injected directly into my veins. But I’d still ended the night alone, dogless, friendless, wishing I’d had the courage to ask Mutt to come home with me.

I quickly became grateful that I hadn’t, however, because there was a surprise waiting for me on my welcome mat.

The whole drive home I’d felt eyes on me. They crawled and crawled, coating my body in spiders as the moon sunk between the branches that lined the roads. Soon it would be fall, and half the leaves would rot and fall off.

When I pulled into the parking lot, the crushing sense of loss I felt nearly made me sick. It was well past midnight, and I felt about a thousand years old. Like my eyebags had bags, and my heart weighed a hundred pounds. Exhausted, vision bleary, my movements sluggish, I almost didn’t notice the hairy figure sitting on my welcome mat when I trudged up the stairs.

Dusty, fluffy, and happy.