Page 42 of Haunting the Hunter

Perfect. He’s still in town.

Drunk and vulnerable.

A smile plays on my lips, and I feel like I’ve won. I look over at Andrea.

Her closed-off demeanor is a stark contrast to the woman on the other side of me who’s crying to some random guy about how her dog died three years ago and that she hasn’t been the same since. I turn my head quickly to avoid eye contact.

“Thanks, I owe you one,” I say, getting up to leave.

She looks at me, confused. “You helped me first. Call it even.”

“Right. You gonna be good?” I say, gesturing to the door in reference to the creep they just threw out.

She takes another drink and scoffs. “Yeah, that’s my brother. Theo.” Her face stiffens. “And don’t ask, I’m not in a talking mood.”

“Wasn’t planning on it. You gonna make it home safe?”

“I’ll figure it out,” she says, waving me off.

“Thanks again.” I drop a fifty on the bar and turn to leave.

“Church” by Chase Atlantic comes through the speakers, and I hear yelling—and a group of women all but stampede to the dance floor. They bump into me, all three grabbing my hands and arms, pulling me with them.

“Come dance, handsome!” one yells over the music.

What the fuck is happening…

They begin dancing, grinding on me in all directions, spilling their drinks in the process, as I try to sneak my way out of their human barricade.

“Aww, you’re no fun!” I hear one of them yell from behind me.

I need to get the fuck out of here. This place is madness.

I quickly make my way through the crowd, abandoning Andrea at the bar, avoiding ramming into anyone else. I burst through the doors. Hands on my knees, I lean over, gulping in deep breaths.

Freedom.

The respite doesn’t last long. I hear the loud roar of multiple motorcycles pulling up. One by one, they pile into the parking lot in front of me, shouting obscenities. The man who got kicked out of the bar earlier, Theo, approaches them, yelling and pointing at me.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

I stand up and stretch my neck to the side, preparing for what looks like a fight. Slowly, I walk down the steps, approaching the men as they hop off their bikes. Each one wears a vest similar to the one the drunk man was wearing in the bar.

A large bald man steps up to me. He starts to speak but I cut him off.

“Are we doing this one by one or all at once?” I ask confidently, cracking my knuckles.

“The young lady you were with inside—do you know where she is?” he asks, his voice deep and raspy.

“Leave her alone. She made it very clear she has no interest in leaving with her brother.”

“I think there has been a misunderstanding here.” He puts his hands out. “I’m Mack. Theo came to pick her up after she ran off from our clubhouse. She isn’t all there mentally and hasn’t been taking her meds. He’s a bit drunk from the party, so maybe he wasn’t able to get his point across. We’re just worried about her.”

Bullshit.

“So why would she beg a stranger to protect her?”

“Look, son, she moved here because her mother couldn’t handle her episodes. Her brother took her in. I imagine she would say just about anything to avoid coming home. Would you go inside and get her for us? We would prefer not to cause an issue.”