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

I really hope her husband isn’t a dick.

In an effort to prove to myself—and her—that things were fine, I spent the next twenty minutes trying to teach her how to tie a cherry stem with her tongue. Maybe I also kinda hoped she’d pat my back again? But I refused to admit that, even to myself. Shit. I just did.

She didn’t.

Pat my back, I mean.

And when she left me alone at the bar, I felt lighter without the weight of having to pretend. The smile I had pasted on dropped as soon as her back was to me as I threaded my fingers around my half-empty glass and let the world spin again.

I should go home, I told myself again as I watched the crowd. I don’t belong here. The minutes on my phone ticked by as I waited for something, anything to happen—I wasn’t sure what. A spark. I don’t know. Something cosmic.

Like magic, a few minutes later, my wish came true.

Though not in the way I had hoped.

I could feel the prickle of eyes on the back of my neck again. The hair on my arms stood on end and goosebumps shivered up my body. Four guys sat on the other stools at the bar beside mine. A crowd of people danced to my left, dressed in skimpy but tasteful clothing. No one was looking at me. No one.

And yet…someone was.

Someone I couldn’t see.

I could feel it as easily as I felt the throb of bass from the DJ.

Maybe it was the guy from earlier?

Or maybe it was one of Lydia’s hunter buddies?

Hello, paranoia, my old friend. Nice to see you haven’t abandoned me.

You’re fine, Jeffrey.

You’re fine.

Somehow, the reassurances didn’t help.

They never did.

Around two a.m. I decided it was time to stop pretending I was trying to get laid and get my ass in bed. I had work in the morning, and it seemed pretty self-explanatory that I should not be nodding off on the job. I was lucky enough that Avery had hired me in the first place, considering my background.

He insisted it was a plus, but I knew better. There was a reason no one in my life but him knew what I’d done. They’d run. I wouldn’t blame them, either. The blood on my hands was as red as my hair. But Avery was a bleeding heart. That was the reason he’d hired me at his magic shop. Not because he found my skill set useful, or that he didn’t care about what had happened to me.

I was a charity case.

I climbed from the stool, limbs creaking, ass numb. As I wobbled my way through the crowd I shook the pins and needles out of my legs, and swiveled my torso from side to side to pop my back. Simultaneously, I patted my pockets to make sure my wallet was still there.

You can never be too careful.

Some dude jabbed me with his pointy ass elbow, but he apologized, so it was fine.

The sugar in my stomach swam around in circles as I flicked the guitar pick I kept in my pocket between my fingers. Flick, flick, flick. It was warm to the touch from sitting against my body. I traced the smooth surface with my thumb the way I always did, letting it dig in for just a moment, the pain centering me.

“Someone forgot to shower tonight,” I muttered under my breath as I dodged between sweaty bodies, avoiding as many lethal elbows as I could. One elbow to the gut was enough for me, thank you very much.

I was almost to the exit when I heard it.

A familiar voice.

Syrupy and slow, obviously intoxicated.