Hunting Her Box Set

Anissa

I sit on the living room floor, my back against the sofa, my legs outstretched before me as I cradle the cell in my hand.

I never should’ve agreed to take the device. Not when I knew the temptation would eat me from the inside out.

I’ve battled indecision since the moment Cole walked from the house, and it isn’t because I want to be rescued. I’m past that. What I require is grounding.

I slept with Cole Torian. A criminal. And not just any criminal, a high-functioning, incredibly successful, lawless entrepreneur.

There’s no sense. No regret. No guilt.

I’m trying to encourage thoughts of disgust and shame when the only thing consuming me are memories of shock and goddamn bliss.

It’s insanity.

Nobody in their right mind would look back on what happened last night and crave more.

But those lips.

The reverence.

He was another man. One who brushed his mouth over my injured shoulder with such exquisite adoration it still brings an enjoyable shiver to my skin.

I can’t quit sinking my nose into the collar of his suit jacket to breathe his scent deep into my lungs. Each inhalation is a hit that fills me with warmth. With sizzling flashbacks.

I’d snatched his jacket from the dresser because it was the first thing within reach when I rushed from the bed to snoop on the conversation in the living room.

Now I can’t bring myself to take it off.

Not when the Cole from last night wasn’t the heartless mastermind I’d grown to despise. They’re two contrary people—entirely different souls trapped in the same body.

And the split personalities aren’t the only reason I should dial home.

Common sense demands I contact the Bureau. It’s necessary on multiple levels. I can’t be entirely sure of my timeline since boarding the jet, but I’m confident I’m meant to be back at the office by now.

Easton will wonder where I am. Taggert will take my no-show as a silent resignation. And both are likely to mount a full-scale search for answers.

I don’t want to lead them here. Not when I’m certain Cole will finish Luther more efficiently than any organization ever could. He already has the means and the determination. If it weren’t for that poor little boy, I’m sure this nightmare would already be over.

So now, I don’t know what to do.

The more I contemplate reaching for the outside world, the more affirmative reasons compound. But thinking about betraying Cole makes my stomach hollow.

I can’t even bring myself to stop seeing him whenever I close my eyes. He’s always there, staring right back at me with his smug gorgeousness.

Taggart was right not to trust me. He knew one day I’d act exactly like my traitorous father. Maybe everyone in my department could see my weakness better than I could.

I unlock the phone, the click sound filling me with guilt.

I focus on the square call icon until my vision blurs. I keep staring until it’s Cole that stares back at me.

“Goddammit.” I relock the screen and shove the cell along the carpet, sliding it out of reach.

Betraying him doesn’t feel right.

Being loyal to him brings the same discomfort.

“What the hell have you done to me?” I thump my back against the sofa, hoping the jolt will lead me in the right direction. I keep rocking into the cushions, the thud, thud, thud oddly soothing until the sound is accompanied by a far-off rumble.

I pause.

Listen.

It’s a boat.

“Shit.” The only thing that noise has ever brought is trouble.

I shove to my feet and glance toward the hall. I should get dressed, but I’d prefer to assess the risks before spending precious moments worrying about clothes.

I rush for the glass door.

Cole hasn’t been gone for more than an hour. I’m not sure if that means the meeting didn’t go as pla

My pulse increases at the possibility of his success. A subtle kiss of excitement settles into my stomach before I think better of celebrating murder.

I pull the door wide, listening to the growl of the boat approaching, getting closer and closer with every passing second.

He told me to be ready in case something happened, but I’m not. My belongings aren’t packed. I haven’t showered. I’m still naked beneath the suit jacket.

I thought I’d have more time.

I walk outside, the beat of my pulse building. I break into a jog around the pool and continue down the gravel path, my pace increasing the more I convince myself Cole has come back to get me.

I’m halfway down the path when I see the boat. The same speedboat from the first day I arrived.

Any hint of optimism flees at the memory of the gun pointed in my face.

My steps falter.

My heart stops.

I can’t see who’s onboard, and I didn’t have the foresight to check what boat escorted the men from the island earlier. Maybe the threatening old man is their chauffeur. Or maybe he knows I’m alone and has returned to have his fun with me.

I slow, creeping forward, shielding myself behind bushes and trees.

I keep approaching the pier, not stopping until I’ve reached the last waist-high shrub, then I wait as my shadowed guests pull up a few yards away.

The engine is cut and the boat bobs into place while I scrutinize the shaded area underneath the upper-deck canopy, trying to make out the two silhouettes.

I’m not sure if it’s Luca. The height of one person is similar to his. Big. Bulky.

I contemplate calling out. But what should I say?

If it’s Cole, I want to run to him. To find out what happened to have him returning so soon. And if it’s not, it’s imperative I prepare for the worst. I need to know if I should be scrambling for the protection of the house before any danger approaches.

I stand, wrapping the jacket tight around me with one arm while I raise a hand to my brow, shielding the sun from my eyes to gain a better look.

An unfamiliar man steps out from beneath the shelter, his gaze fixed on me. He climbs onto the pier, tall, broad, and sporting an entirely blank expression. I’ve never seen such an emotionless face promote such pure hostility before. The man hurls bad juju without so much as a sneer.

I swallow, lick the dryness from my lips, and tell myself my fear is unsubstantiated. He could be here to help. This man, with his ice-cold stare, could have been sent by Cole.

“Hello?” I squint into the sun. “Who are you?”

“The name’s Robert,” he grunts. “You need to come with me.”

“What? Why?” I backtrack, breathing through the panic.

“Ih-mur-juhn-see.” The old Greek slides into view on the back of the boat, his smile wide. “Ih-mur-juhn-see. Ih-mur-juhn-see.”

Fuck.

I quit fighting fear.

I turn.

Run.

Sprint.

My hair flicks in my eyes. My lungs burn from exertion. But I don’t stop, don’t even pause as pebbles bite into my feet and heat lashes my throat.

I head for the house, hoping it will be my savior.

I can grab the cell, call Cole, and shield myself in the panic room until he arrives.

Oh, God, how long will it take for him to get to me?

The thunder of faster footfalls follows me, the frightening sound increasing as I reach the pool.

I sense his darkness. His cruel intent. I don’t want to know what this man hides beneath the blank expression.

I push myself harder, throwing myself at the glass door to yank it open. I’m inside, about to slam the barrier between us and lock him out when his arm launches through the closing space and snatches my wrist.