Page 95 of The Hunter

I closed out of the contacts and returned to the home screen, clicking on the message button.

And again, there was nothing. No texts. Hell, there weren’t even any spam messages. The same was true of the email inbox.

I was about to turn off the phone and return it to the duffel bag when I tried one last thing. I swiped up, bringing up any apps running in the background. In addition to the contacts, messages, and email, one more app was running. I clicked on it.

At first, I wasn’t sure what I was looking at. The screen was mostly black, apart from something resembling an email inbox with just one message. The voice in my head warned me against this, but I couldn’t resist the temptation.

So I tapped on it and what looked like a text thread popped up. But there were no names. Only letters.

F: Package acquired.

P: Any problems?

F: The operation went according to plan.

P: Send proof.

I clicked on the thumbnail of the photo to enlarge it, gasping at the sight that greeted me. There I was, bound, unconscious, my body limp. My hair was matted to my forehead, my mouth sealed with tape.

I didn’t know why this affected me so much. Why this one image caused a vice to squeeze around my heart.

I knew Henry took me. Woke up in this very room disoriented and terrified.

Over the past few days, a part of me wanted to think there was some noble reason for Henry’s actions.

But as I read the messages, assuming F was an abbreviation for Henry’s last name, I was forced to come to the realization that I’d allowed myself to fall for yet another toxic man who wished me harm.

P: Instructions regarding drop point will follow. For now, keep the merchandise safe.

F: Copy.

P: Drop location coordinates: 25.798200, -80.317371

P: Do you copy?

P: Do you copy?

P: This isn’t a fucking game. You have valuable merchandise and have been paid to deliver this merchandise to us. Need I remind you that you’re simply a boyevik. The obshchak will consider this a betrayal.

I couldn’t breathe. My throat locked up as if invisible hands had wrapped around it.

Package.

Merchandise.

Paid.

Obshchak.

My stomach turned, the phone clattering to the floor as I stumbled backwards, gasping like I’d been punched. Theedges of the room blurred, warping around the sick realization building inside me.

I thought I was smarter than this. Thought I’d learned from my past mistakes.

But I fell for it all over again.

Now I knew the truth about Henry.

The man who fed me. Kissed me. Whispered things that made me feel safe.