Page 91 of Hell Hath No Fury

HUNTING YOU

ALEXANDRIA BISHOP

CHAPTER ONE

“I told you I would alwayshuntyou down, Fox Delany.”

That voice.

A chill travels down my spine as the champagne glass I’m holding slips through my fingers and shatters on the concrete below me. It’s been seven years since I’ve heard that voice caress the back of my neck. I realized when I was coming back here that the possibility of running into him was likely, but I didn’t think it would happen right away.

I grew up in the Los Angeles area, but in our small beachy town, it always felt a world away from the hustle and bustle of the major city. Of all the places in the world I considered I could run into him. I didn’t think it would be here. At a private event for my family.

I knew coming back here would be a disaster. A giant fucking mess.

Mess.

I cringe at the mess I created in front of me as I slowly turn around. He caught me off guard and I never let that happen. His eyes are the first thing I see, and they’re as captivating as they were back then.

Dark and depthless.

Like I could fall right in like Alice down the rabbit hole with no end in sight. He’s always pulled me in with a single glance and smile. That fucking smile.

I plaster a fake grin on my face which probably looks more like a grimace and reply, “Hunter Hayes…what a surprise to seeyou here.” My voice catches as I say his name and I curse the effect he still has on me.

My heart rate picks up speed like it’s running a marathon, as a very real smile covers his entire face. I don’t know which family member is responsible for inviting the man standing in front of me, but at this point, I’d kill them all for putting me into this situation. A little heads up would have been nice at least.

One server comes running over and starts cleaning up the broken glass.Shit. Why couldn’t I have been standing two feet to the left on the grass?I bend down and reach for one of the larger pieces of glass. I’ve definitely cleaned up my fair share of messes at the bar back at home, and I’m not the kind of person to let someone else clean up after me.

Waving me off, he says, “Don’t worry about it, ma’am, I’ve got this.”

I open my mouth to argue when Hunter wraps his fingers around my forearm and pulls tightly, forcing me to stand up. “Let him do his job.”

Rather than making any more of a scene, I allow him to lead me away to a small alcove in the garden far enough away that I can no longer hear the noise from my cousin’s rehearsal dinner.

Family.

The only reason that would pull me away from the doom and gloom of the Pacific Northwest that I live and breathe every day, back to Los Angeles, my own personal hell and the overly sunny city I grew up in.

Wrenching my arm out of his grasp and finally getting my wits about me, I spit out, “What are you even doing here, Hunter? Don’t you think it’s a little inappropriate?”

I am going to kill whoever gave him an invitation. And not a little. My blood is boiling and I won’t be able to hold myself back for much longer.

Casually, he slides his hands into the pockets of his slacks, which only highlights the muscles on his sun-kissed forearms even more. With the crisp white shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, I can’t help but appreciate the arm porn on display in front of me.

I’m not blind enough to say he’s unattractive. He’s gotten more so since the last time we saw each other. But that means nothing with the way he treated me in the past.

The silence spreads uncomfortably between us when he grins again and asks, “Do you remember when we were kids and everyone always used to joke that we would get married one day.”

I roll my eyes. Of course I remember.Hunter hunts Foxplays on repeat in my brain like it’s permanently branded there. Kids aren’t exactly the most creative when it comes to teasing. Then again, my parents gave them all the fodder they needed when they named me Fox.

They’re both professors at the University of Southern California. My mom teaches Asian mythology and folklore. When she was pregnant with me, she was particularly obsessed with the history of the Japanese Kitsune.

There are worse names she could have come up with. She could have actually named me Kitsune. But being the only Asian American girl in my tiny private school already made me feel like an outsider.

Hunter and I met on the first day of middle school. I have an unusual name and, of course, kids would mercilessly taunt and tease me about it. But on that first day of sixth grade, Hunter overheard some of the bullying and he came to my rescue. Even now, I still remember the exact words he said.If you want to make fun of people over their names, then I’ll add one more to your list. My name is Hunter Hayes and I will hunt you down and beat the crap out of you.

We were pretty much inseparable after that. Of course, the running joke between us became he would always hunt me down and keep me because I was his and he was mine. That is, until the day he ruined everything between us.