The Hunted (Sleeping With Monsters Book 2) (16 page)

“Yeah,” she said with a curt nod.
“I’ll be fine.”

I swallowed. It was what I and
my wolf wanted to hear – but I knew she was lying.

Without her pussy wrapped
around it, my knot was already subsiding. But if she let me, on that night – it
was such a bad idea. I’d been strong enough to leave Vincent – why wasn’t I
strong enough to leave her?

“So, um,” she started, taking
a step back.

I looked up quickly. “Do you
–“ I said, hesitant. I didn’t want to leave her unsatisfied, but I didn’t know
what to do next.

“No.” She quickly shook her
head. “It’s late, and –“

“Yeah.” I pulled the coat up
to cover myself again.

She danced over the traps back
to the other side of the room and tucked herself back onto my mattress. After a
few moments of silence she said, “Goodnight, Max.”

I hitched the coat higher so
that it hit more of me. “Goodnight, Samantha.”

Chapter Thirteen

What was I doing here?

Vincent had sent me to Max to
be safe and instead – whatever we were doing here was the opposite.

I turned on the mattress to
show him my back, tucking my arm underneath my head for a pillow.

I couldn’t get revenge without
him. I needed him.

But I wasn’t prepared for him
to need me.

Which was unfair, perhaps. I’d
drained a lot of things out of a lot of men in my time – and most of them had never
required anything back, just a warm welcoming hole. Vincent was the only man
who’d broken the mold, who’d wanted more than just my body, who wanted to know
me.

And now…this.

A werewolf. It sounded
completely absurd. I should’ve asked him to change to prove it. But I knew what
I’d seen on Vincent’s chest – he’d had that paw-print tattoo since before he
met me. No wonder Vincent had given me my necklace if silver did that to them.

Syd, JD, Georgie, Karl -- the
names on the dog-earred pages of the book haunted me. I knew them. I’d hung out
with their girlfriends, drinking cocktails late into the night. And they’d all
betrayed Vincent, to a man. To a wolf.

All of them had to pay. No
matter what.

I’d bought plenty of things
with my body before.

Vincent’s revenge would
just come with a higher price.

I woke up after dawn the next
day and found Max still asleep. Maybe he was healing? I didn’t know. I quietly
rummaged in his closet until I found a clean pair of jeans and pulled them on.
They hung low on me, my hips barely wide enough to keep them up. Then I went
over to the pile of cash to count it. Ten grand. It’d be enough – I’d make sure
of it.

“Wake-up, sleepy-head,” I
said, and Max stirred. I realized watching him that he was acting for my sake –
he’d wanted me to feel ‘alone’ in the cabin. Probably for long enough to run
away, if I was going to.

He didn’t know me.

“Bath time,” I announced, and
walked down to the creek.

The cold water had no problem
taking away the blood I’d gotten on me the night before. It was bracing, and
the water was moving more quickly today, some new spot of snow had thawed miles
away – I could feel it surging against me, running across my nipples and
playing in between my legs like hands. I stood there and let it buffet me,
making me stronger, taking away things that were human and soft and freezing what
was left of me so that I could follow through on my plan.

I returned to the cabin and
put clothes back on and scrunched waves into my hair by the heat of the stove,
as Max left to do his own ablutions. My hair was almost all the way dry by the
time he got back – another of his attempts to let me go. 

“You’re sure about this?” he
asked as he came back. I looked at him and saw all the worry he had for me in
his face. Was it about today – or what was planned for tonight?

“Absolutely,” I said, and
stalked out the door. 

The first place we went to was
the most dangerous – it was in town, and it involved silver. There were a chain
of Silver Stores in the area, and I needed to buy as many small sharp and
pointy bits as I could, for us to load into shotgun shells later. The more
penetrative power the better. I was the only one who could do this part – I got
the feeling that just stepping into the store would make Max break out in
hives.

I put my wig back on for it,
so I’d look different than when the family’d seen me last, and spent a thousand
dollars cash on an assortment of jagged bits and pieces, necklaces that we
could break down, earrings that were projectiles all on their own, and yards
and yards of silver chain, thick and thin. The women in there thought I was the
second coming by the end of my shopping spree, and I hoped for their sake they
worked on commission.

I hopped into the car carrying
three non-descript bags.

“You get it?” he asked, not
looking me in the eyes.

I nodded. “Yep. Onward.” 

He shook his head and looked
out the truck’s driver side window.

The upholstery in Max’s
truck was already so grungy, none of the bloodstains he’d left showed. I took
the wig off once we got outside of town and I flipped the sunvisor down on the
passenger side to inspect myself in its cracked mirror. I tied up my hair,
half-up, half-down, like I was indecisively innocent, and smiled charmingly at
myself. What I was about to do would be easier with makeup on, but maybe more
authentic without.

He put the car in park outside
the first gun shop. “And you’re sure this’ll work?”

“Trust me,” I told him,
opening up the door. I gave him a look, one of the ones I used to use on stage,
dangerous and challenging, with just enough vulnerability to encourage men to
try their luck. Then I waved and walked toward the door.

The first of my fake IDs was
in my pocket. I was Sarah, and her birthday was only a month off from my own –
Vincent, again, thinking ahead for me.

The gunshop was on the rural
side of town, we’d chosen it to start with, it seemed the most likely place for
my gambit to work – and it was away from the family. Since most of them had rap
sheets, they had to buy their guns out of other family member’s trunks anyhow,
whereas me, with my cash and my ID, could be legit-ish.

“Can I help you with anything,
Miss?” A thin man stepped out from behind a row of camouflaged jackets. His
‘Howdy, I’m Jim!’ badge was pinned to his shirt, slightly skew. I smiled at
him, full-bore. He didn’t stand a chance.

“Hi, Jim,” I said with a
smile. “I’m looking for a Remington 870 Express.” Max wanted me to get one
slug-gun, and the rest shot guns. I figured I should try to get the most
important one out here in the boonies, first.

His eyebrows rose as he took
me in – both my request, and my body. “Can do. What for, if you don’t mind me
asking?”

“Home protection – land
protection, really. I’ve seen a wild boar out, and I think it’s time for a
little bar-be-que.”

He frowned and shook his head
at the silliness of me. “Miss, wild boars are crazy sons of bitches – you
shouldn’t go after it alone.”

“Oh I won’t,” I said, a little
breathless, pleading my case. “I just want to be ready, in case it riles my
dogs. My ex always took his Remington with him when he walked the land – then
when he left, he took it, too. Left me Riley though. Great big german shepard.
If only she were a little smarter – I’m worried she’ll get into trouble, and I
won’t be able to help her.”  

He nodded, willing to grant
that a shotgun might be useful if you were defending a dog from a boar. “You’d
have to be a good shot. Shoot your dog with a slug-gun, and it’s game over,” he
said, taking another stealthy look at my breasts.

I grinned at him earnestly,
twisting my head to one side. “I’ll practice. I don’t have much else to do
nowadays.”

He snorted, and pulled out a
ledger from behind his countertop. “Well, sign right here, and then three days
from now you can pick this baby up.”

“Three days?” I said, my voice
rising with disappointment.  

“This is your first gun
purchase I take it?” I could see myself through his eyes – I was a simple
woman, just as he had suspected, the second I walked through the door. I
nodded, wide-eyed and innocent, to encourage his beliefs. “Well, that’s how it
goes, Miss.”

I frowned. “I live past the
interstate. I came here because I was driving through. There’s stores way
closer to my place – and they’ll be easier for me to get back to, three days
from now,” I explained and then sighed in elaborate disappointment – not at
him, but at myself, for being just
so
foolish. “I feel awful for wasting
your time – I did want to buy it from here. You’ve been so helpful.”

“It happens, Miss,” he said.
He shrugged his shoulders. I caught him looking again – and he knew I’d caught
him, I saw his face start to redden.

“Sarah,” I confessed to him, like
I hadn’t minded. I stretched one hand out and drummed my nails on the counter
in thought, and then looked at him, eyes full of promise. “You’re sure there’s
no way you can change it…Jim?”

I saw his mouth part to deny
me out of habit, and then him stop himself in hope, just as I came forward.

“If you’re wondering what I
think you’re wondering,” I said, as I planted both arms on the countertop,
leaning over deeply. The sweater I was wearing had a low V, and from here I
knew he could see that I wasn’t wearing a bra. “The answer is yes. It’s…been
awhile.” I let my eyes take on a fevered urgency.

I could see the outline of his
erection growing underneath his sensible khaki pants. Then he took two big
steps to the side and flipped a part of the countertop back. “Follow me.”

We went down a short hallway
into an office. I could’ve turned back at any time – he was the kind of man I
could say no to, even halfway through, and he’d stop, I could tell, but he
opened a door and I followed him inside.

We were in a small room with
one wide desk, ten black and white TVs stacked on top of it. All the security
camera feeds led here. I could even see Max, outside, sitting patiently inside
his truck.

“We’ve gotta be fast, before
my boss gets back –“

“Fast is how I like it,” I
said, giving him another look before I walked past him to put my hands on the
front of the desk and tilt my ass towards him. He reached for Max’s jeans on me
and they practically fell down. I heard him gasped at the sight of so much skin
-- and then I heard a zipper.

Seconds later there was a
condom wrapper on the table by my hands, and Jim was pounding wildly away at my
pussy. I was once again selling myself -- but this time for a cause.

“You like that?” he asked from
behind.

I thought about the people
that’d gotten Vincent killed, getting filled with silver buckshot.

“Yeah, Jim,” I arched back
into him and purred. “Yeah, I do.”

Max’s eyebrows rose as I came
out of the gunshop, with the Remington in a case and fifty rounds of ammo under
one arm. “Told you.”

“Yeah,” he said, as I tossed
it in back, and we went to the next one on our map.

We canvassed the state. Not everyone
fell for me – some of the stores had too much staff, or some of the men were so
unused to getting hit on that they were completely oblivious, or they had happy
wives – or maybe boyfriends! – at home, but fifteen stores later, we had eight
guns. Three blow-jobs, three fucks, two handies, and Max’s mood darkened with
every stop. I’d even gotten one of the guns for free.

“Are men always this easy?”

“If they’re lonely enough,
yes. And I’ll tell you a trade secret – almost all men are lonely.” I slouched
into the passenger seat, and we drove to the hardware store in silence.

“Was Vincent?” he asked me.

I glanced at him. “No. I made
sure of that.”

He inhaled, and wisely exhaled
without saying anything else.

“I was a prostitute, Max.” If he
was going to mate me, he probably deserved to know.

He sat straighter and looked
over at me. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“How did he – did you –“

“He was a client of mine. It’s
how we met.” I toyed with the edge of the sweater, where a piece of the yawn
was starting to fray. “I think after you he didn’t want to date anyone who
could hide any secrets from him – so he went for people whose problems were all
on the table. Or the mattress.” I snorted softly.

“How did that happen to you?” He
sounded mystified – and sorry for me.

“Same way it happens to
anyone.” I shrugged off his concern, feeling some of my old armor coming back.
“Bad luck, bad planning, wrong place wrong time. My parents had me late – by
the time they died in a car accident, my grandparents were already gone. I went
to foster care, it sucked, and then, well – I found out I could dance. I made
good money dancing for a while, until my car was in an accident and I broke my
leg. Basically, cars have it out for me.”

“Good thing I have a truck,”
he interrupted.

I smiled, still looking down
at my hands. “Yeah. So. A friend of mine did some escorting on the side, and
once I healed up enough I did too. But then the recession hit, and –“ I
shrugged, leaving the rest to his imagination.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be. It got me to
Vincent – and I don’t regret a second of my time with him.” I hazarded looking
over at him. I expected to find pity, maybe even scorn, but saw sympathy
instead.

“You do what you gotta do to
get by,” he said, and I nodded.

“Yeah. Always.” 

Chapter Fourteen

Halfway through her story I
found the strength to let her go.

Letting her use herself –
letting her use me – after what she’d been through – I’d been thinking with my
wolf’s urges instead of my heart. It had to stop, now, while I was still in
control of me.

I parked the truck and she
helped me make the three trips up the ridge with all of our stuff, then looked
at me and smiled. “What’s next?”