Page 107 of The Hunted

“No promises.” She reached for his hand. “But I’m taking this win, and I’ll be ordering your maid’s outfit.”

Santino groaned and shook his head, but he couldn’t fight the smile on his face. He was happy and that was because of her.

Amra struggled with her binds, unsure how long she had before they both came back or only one of them. She wanted to be long gone before they did whatever they had to do. It was a mistake coming here by herself, but she had the answers she needed, and there was enough to push for someone to check into Santino and Silva.

The front door swung open and she froze. Her pulse raced and she tried to slow her breathing, but it seemed to echo in the cabin. She heard the sound of heavy boots and looked up to see a familiar face and she relaxed. “What are you doing here?” she shook her head. “You can’t save him this time.”

Her binds were cut, and she shook out her hands and feet feeling the blood rush back into them. “Never thought I’d be happy to see you.” She chuckled. “But thank—” She felt the prick in her arm and her eyes narrowed.

“Sorry, Amra Bean. I told you to leave it alone.” She felt his lips against her forehead as she fought to keep her eyes open. “You are so stubborn, and now I have to get rid of you.”

“Wh…w…wh…” She couldn’t get her mouth to work right.

“I still have much to learn from him, and you got in the way. Don’t worry, sweet girl. This won’t be in vain. If the other one gets in my way, she’ll join you too.”

The last thing Amra saw was Martin’s smile.

ChapterForty

She knew too much

Saw the truth before she was ready

She knew my secrets and ended up in the way

I never meant to take it this far

But the game is still in play.

“As you can see behind me the funeral progression for Amra Benson is currently in progress. She was the latest victim of what sources are calling the Poet Killings. She was the criminal profiler who worked in the FBI and had been heavily involved in the Poet case as well as the Coffee Shop Killer case. Sources are saying Amra had gotten too close to finding out the identity to the real killer and it cost her, her life.”

Silva blended in with the rest of the on-lookers. She didn’t feel right going to the funeral of Amra Benson. She didn’t care for the woman, but she wanted to stay outside and see who showed up amongst the crowd.

When she and Santino made it back to his cabin, they’d been surprised to see Amra gone. They both thought she managed to escape on her own until they realized someone else had been there. They left a note. It was currently burning a hole in Silva’s pocket:

I did you a favor.

Remember this when I come to collect.

Don’t try to run either

It’ll be messy for all of us.

When I’m ready

you’ll find out who I am.

I can’t wait for you to see all that I learned.

Silva sucked her teeth. Whoever this little shit was, was using her methods to make their point, and it pissed her off. What happened to originality? What happened to making your own mark in this world?

Not only had this other killer written a shitty poem but using the poem brought more spotlight on her kills. She hoped Santino was steering the FBI and local PD away from her as the Poet. She kind of liked leaving little anecdotes about her VICs and how terrible they were.

Silva watched a black truck pull up in front of the church. Her body warmed, already knowing who was about to step out. The way she seemed so in tune with Santino should have shocked her. But he’d been buried deep in her bones since they were little, and the more time they were together, the deeper he was buried inside of her.

She never thought she’d find this level of peace. She thought her anger at what she’d gone through as a kid and how she’d been left, would have consumed her until her last breath. But forgiving Santino and letting her mind and heart be on the same page had shifted the weight she carried around since as far back as she could remember.

She could finally breathe easier and think more clearly, which she hoped would work in her favor. She told Santino she didn’t think this Coffee Shop Killer would be a threat just yet, but she wanted the head start on them.

It was better to be prepared than be caught off-guard.

Santino stepped out of his truck in an all-black suit, looking especially delicious when she knew what was underneath that suit and how well it moved inside of her. Their eyes collided for a second, and he smirked at her when she did a little wave. She couldn’t wait for this service to be over so she could climb in his lap and finish what they started before they left this morning.

She watched Martin pull up next to Santino, smiling wide. Silva watched the interaction, noting how somber everyone else around them was. Everyone except Martin. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, and she sucked at reading lips.

Santino turned and headed in toward the church, but Martin turned toward the crowd. He was looking for someone and when his gaze snagged hers, he winked and bowed his head before turning back toward the church.

“What an odd intera…holy shit,” Silva whispered screamed. She just figured out who the other killer was.

It was Martin.