Page 22 of Hunting Gianna (Stalkers in the Woods #3)

The water laps at us. A piece of moss floats by, catching at her shoulder, and I brush it off with two fingers. Her skin is covered in goosebumps, her nipples peaked and pale as pearls. She doesn’t try to cover them this time. Maybe she’s tired. Maybe she trusts me. Maybe both.

“Why’d you finally leave him?” I ask, just to keep her talking.

She blinks. “I thought I was going to die there,” she says, and now her voice is a whisper. “Not because of him. Because of me. Because I knew if I didn’t leave, I would never leave.” She looks at me, really looks, and I see the hole in her where hope should be. “That make sense?”

I nod, because it does. It makes more sense than anything.

She lets her head fall against my shoulder, lips brushing my neck. “What about you?” she asks, almost gentle. “Any fucked up girlfriends?”

I bark a laugh. “Nothing to tell.”

She snorts. “Bullshit. A man like you? You must have had a whole graveyard of exes.”

I squeeze her, hard enough to make her gasp. “Maybe I buried them,” I say.

She laughs, and the sound is real. “God, you’re impossible.”

We drift, spinning lazy circles, her toes brushing mine underwater. I can feel her getting braver, the way she angles her face up to look at me, the way her hands start to explore my chest, tracing the old scars and the fresh ones, mapping me out like a new country.

After a while, she gets quiet. I watch her, waiting for the next hit.

She doesn’t look away when she asks, “Why me?”

“Why not you?”

“No, I mean—” she bites her lip, frustrated. “Not why did you kidnap me… we went over that. Why do you want me so bad? There’s nothing special about me. I’m not beautiful, I’m not smart, I’m not even that good in bed. You could have anyone. Why this?”

I don’t answer right away. I let the silence fill up with the sound of the falls, the pulse of the water against our bodies, the weight of her question.

Finally, I say, “Have you ever craved something so badly, out of nowhere, that it takes over your life? That you know you’re supposed to have it, even if you don’t deserve it, even if it’s wrong?”

She nods, slow, a frown knitting her brows.

“That’s you,” I say. “You’re my craving.”

Her eyes flicker, like maybe she doesn’t know whether to be scared or flattered. Maybe both.

“You’re fucked,” she says, but it’s soft, and she cups my jaw with her hand, pulling me in for a kiss.

Our mouths meet and it’s electric. The water between us, the cold and the heat, her breath and mine. I bite her lip, just enough to make her whimper, and she presses closer, grinding against me, wanting more.

I could stay like this forever.

But I don’t get forever.

The shrill ring irritates me and a flare of anger travels down my spine. My phone, buried in the pile of clothes on the rocks, screaming for attention.

I ignore it. She doesn’t. “Go check,” she says, pushing me away.

I don’t want to. I want to drown us here, keep her under the surface until the world forgets we ever existed. But I swim to the edge, haul myself out, and drip cold water all over the phone as I unlock it.

A text from Noah.

INCOMING. GIANNA’S EX CHECKED IN WITH A NEW GIRL. JUST A HEAD’S UP.

I stare at the words. My vision goes white for a second, a flash of something violent and pure.

I turn back to the pool, watching Gianna float on her back, eyes closed, face to the sky. She looks peaceful, but I know she’s thinking about her soon-to-be-dead cruise ship captain. All the shit he put her through. How did none of this show up on my background checks? Slimy ass motherfucker.

I grip the phone so hard the glass creaks. My muscles coil, ready for a fight.

Gianna opens her eyes and sees me watching.

“What is it?” she asks, voice careful.

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

But it’s not nothing. It’s the start of everything.

I toss the phone onto the rocks and slip back into the water. I swim to her, pull her close, hold her so tight she can’t move. She squirms, but I won’t let go.

She’s my girl. And now everyone will know it.

Even her ex.

Especially her ex.

It’s not long before we’re freezing, but not for the lack of fury running hot through my veins.

I needed the cold to decide what the fuck to do about this little problem.

I promised I wouldn’t kill anyone else, but does he really count as a person?

I remain unconvinced. She wraps herself in my shirt and wrings her hair out, drops falling on her bare feet.

I dry off slow, savoring the sight of her stripped raw, the way she tries to hide but keeps looking at me like she wants me to see her anyway.

She glances at my phone, still face up on the rocks, the last message glaring in the dark. She walks over and reads it.

“Your poker face sucks,” she says, voice hoarse.

I crack a knuckle. “You want to see him?”

She stiffens, then pulls the shirt tighter. “I want to burn the lodge down with him in it.”

“Not an option,” I say, pulling my jeans back on. “Too much paperwork.”

She laughs, mean and bright. “You think I’m joking.”

“I never think you’re joking.” I toss her the rest of her clothes. “We’re maybe a half mile from the main building. We could be there before dinner’s over.”

She doesn’t move for a second, just stands there, goosebumps prickling up her arms, hair wild around her face. Her eyes are old, dark, dangerous.

“Tell me what else he did,” I say, needing her to relive it. To be angry enough to do what I need her to do.

She flinches, just once, but I see it. “He’d hit me if I didn’t do what he wanted. Not like… hard. Well not hard enough to leave bruises.”

I feel my jaw ticking. I want to carve the bastard up slow, let her watch, but I know that’s not the point. The point is what she does, not what I do.

She rubs a thumb over the inside of her wrist, nails digging into the skin. “I used to dream about killing him,” she says, voice light as a child’s. “Then I felt guilty for dreaming. I thought maybe I deserved it.”

I move fast, get in her space, grab her chin so she has to look at me. “You deserved better. Always.”

She stares back, furious and wild. “I know that now.” Then, softer, “Because of you, you maniac.”

I let her go. “So. What do you want to do?”

She grins, teeth white and sharp in the dark. “Let’s play a little game.”

I cock my head, curious.

“We hunt him,” she says, voice low. “Through the woods. Like you hunted me. If Brad falls and hits his head and dies, well, accidents happen.”

I start laughing, can’t help it. “You want to be the monster now, huh?”

Her smile widens. “Maybe just for tonight.”

I pull her close, pinning her arms behind her. “Deal’s off, then? I’m allowed to kill again?”

She leans in, lips brushing my cheek. “Only if you promise not to get blood on my shirt.”

“Deal,” I say, and we both break out laughing. Who knew my little bird could be so savage?

She gets dressed, still shivering, and I help her pull her jeans up, my fingers slow and careful. She doesn’t pull away. She lets me wring out her hair, knot it up at the base of her neck, tying it tight. When I’m done, she leans into me, heavy, like she’s letting me carry the weight for once.

We walk together, up the trail and through the dark, the forest closing behind us like a zipper. Her hand is cold in mine, but she squeezes tight, not letting go.

The main building comes into view at the bottom of the hill. It’s a monster—logs the size of telephone poles, windows as big as movie screens. The place is lit up like a promise, warm yellow light spilling out over the porch. Noah spared no expense with this place.

I glance at Gianna, and she’s staring straight ahead, jaw set.

“We go in together,” she says, “like we own the place.”

I nod.

“Ready?” I ask.

She grins, all teeth. “Born ready.”

We hit the porch and stop at the door. For a second, the world feels like it’s waiting for something.

And then it happens.

The switch.

She looks at me, something fierce and hungry in her face.

“Let’s ruin his fucking night,” she says.

I can’t wait.

I watch the way men look at her: hungry, calculating, some of them already imagining how they’d taste her.

I want to gouge their eyes out, but I let it go.

When we came here earlier, it was fun and games watching the way they desired her.

My mask pokes me through my jacket pocket. A smirk crosses my face.

But now the time for fun is over. We’re here for one purpose. Dine and hunt.

She walks straight to a table in the back, never hesitating, and sits with her back to the room. I take the chair next to her. We don’t speak. She scans every face, scanning for him.

A waitress appears, young, desperate to please. “Drinks?” she asks, her voice brittle.

“Whiskey, neat,” I say.

“Gin and tonic,” says Gianna, never looking up.

We order food without reading the menu. I get steak. Gianna orders the fried chicken with mash potato and gravy.

We eat in silence. The food is good, but I barely taste it. I watch Gianna instead: the way her jaw works when she’s chewing, the way her eyes keep darting to the door. She’s coiled so tight the fork almost bends in her hand.

Halfway through the meal, he walks in.

He’s shorter than I expected. Tanned, handsome in a greasy, overproduced way.

White teeth, expensive watch, cheap aftershave that hits my nose even across the room.

He’s got a blonde on his arm—young, huge tits, red lipstick over her lips.

He parades her through the entryway, soaking up the glances, the little smirks from the other men.

Gianna goes rigid. The air around her shifts, crackles, like she’s about to explode. I put my hand on her thigh, squeezing just hard enough to ground her.

He doesn’t see us at first. He’s too busy showing off for the room. When he finally does, his face freezes for a split second. Then he smiles, wide and fake, and steers his girl to a table on the other side of the room.

Gianna stands. I catch her wrist, but she yanks free.

She walks straight to his table, eyes locked on his. The blonde shifts, looking from Gianna to her boyfriend, already sensing the storm.

Brad’s smile gets sharper. “Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.”

Gianna ignores him, stares at the blonde. “Blink twice if you want to be saved,” she says, voice flat.

The girl giggles, unsure if it’s a joke. She blinks once, slow and then holds her eyes open so wide she looks like a dead fish.

This asshole leans back, arms wide. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He eyes me, then Gianna, then me again. “You trading down, babe? Or is this a charity case?”

Gianna doesn’t flinch. “You’re a fucking wet sock, you know that.”

He looks at me, eyes raking over my frame. “What’s it like, having my whore for a girlfriend?”

I smile, slow and lazy. “I’ll show you,” I say. “Come outside.”

He laughs, loud enough for half the room to hear. “Yeah? You want to go? Let’s do it.”

He stands, shoving his chair back, and gestures for Gianna to lead the way.

She doesn’t move. “Bitches first,” she says.

He shrugs, strolls to the door, never once looking back at the blonde. I follow, close enough to watch the confidence in the set of his shoulders.

We step onto the porch. The night air is colder than before, and there’s cloud of vapor when we exhale.

Gianna stands at the top of the stairs, arms folded. She looks at him like she’s deciding whether to break him or just let him go.

He turns, cocky, fists balled at his sides. “So what, you gonna fight me for her? Is this some kind of sick game?”

Gianna laughs, high and brittle. “No one would fight you for me. You’re not worth the calories.”

He flushes, eyes darting to me, then back to her. “So what the fuck do you want?”

She steps closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “I want you to run.”

He blinks, confused. “What?”

“Run,” she says. “We’ll give you sixty seconds.”

He laughs, nervous now. “You’re fucking nuts.”

She doesn’t move. Just starts counting, loud and steady.

“One.”

He looks at me, but I don’t react. I just stand there, arms crossed, letting him see the truth in my face.

“Two.”

He backs away, slow at first, then turns and jogs toward the tree line.

“Three.”

He glances back, sees we’re still standing there, and breaks into a sprint.

Gianna stops counting at ten, her lips pulled back in a savage smile.

“You know he’s not going to get far,” I say.

She shrugs, watching the woods. “He doesn’t understand the rules of the game yet.”

We wait, just long enough.

Then we follow, side by side, into the dark.

She’s laughing, wild and free, and I know I’ll follow her anywhere.

Even into hell.

Especially there.