Page 25 of The Stolen Dagger

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

KATHERINE

G uess again, cupcake.

Those three little words were like a nightmare come to life. No matter how hard I pinched myself, I couldn’t pull myself out of the terror.

“Hunter,” I whispered. My hand shook as I struggled to keep the phone pressed against my ear.

“Too bad we couldn’t finish our conversation earlier, Emilia ,” he grumbled. “I’ll have to try something else to get your attention. Does this work?”

A piercing scream tore through the phone speaker.

Leah .

Angry tears prickled behind my eyelids. The agony in her raspy cry echoed in my mind and fueled my rage.

“Don’t you dare hurt her!” I shouted, desperate to to help Leah.

Hunter chuckled, and the wicked sound sent a chill through my body .

“I won’t. Not yet. As long as you bring me the dagger,” Hunter goaded, “your friend will be fine.”

The dagger! I didn’t have the stupid dagger. But Hunter couldn’t know that. Maybe if I explained to him where the dagger might be, he would let her go and take me instead.

“But, you know, I’m not a very patient man,” Hunter continued. “Don’t keep me waiting, Emilia, or I might do something you won’t like.”

Soft cries sounded in the background of the call.

“Isn’t that right, sweet thing?” Hunter growled before another scream sounded.

“Okay!” I relented, desperate to stop this. “Okay. Just don’t hurt her. Where can I meet you?”

Hunter hummed in satisfaction. “We’ll be waiting at your apartment. Bring the dagger. Don’t tell your boyfriend either, or the girl dies.”

The call ended. The silence was deafening.

My lungs expanded, but it was difficult to breathe. I squeezed my eyes shut to stop the overflow of tears.

I couldn’t let Hunter hurt Leah.

My mind raced with what to do. Do I go to my apartment and hope Hunter will listen to me? Should I call Drew? What if I get there and he hurts Leah anyway?

I took a few deep breaths to calm my fiercely beating heart. The need to get to Leah overwhelmed any rational thought, but I needed a plan.

Hunter wanted the dagger. It was the only thing standing between us and Leah’s safety. So, I would give him what he wanted.

Or at least what he thought he wanted.

I would do anything, say anything, to make sure Leah made it out of this alive.

Even if that meant taking her place.

I walked down the hallway to my apartment door with my stomach in knots. Anxiety gripped my chest with its unforgiving claws, clenching tighter and tighter with every step I took.

When I stopped in front of my door, apartment 3-25, I took a deep breath, readying myself for what might be on the other side.

I blew out a breath and steadied myself. I have to be strong.

For Leah.

I wasn’t surprised when the door handle turned easily in my grip as the door opened. I was, however, surprised by my empty apartment.

There was no Hunter. No Leah. No one.

It looked exactly as I had left it a week ago.

Debris in the form of torn books, ripped clothes, and glass shards littered the dark hardwood floors.

The cheap living room furniture I’d scored at a thrift store was either overturned or broken completely. The beige couch had seen better days with the slashed cushions and slanted frame.

There were no lights on inside, but daylight filtered in through the large picture windows on the far wall by the kitchen.

“Hello?” I called out and immediately cringed at how my voice trembled.

This was my apartment. My space. Even though most of my things were destroyed, it was still mine. Why was I the one calling out like some bimbo in a horror movie?

“There she is,” Hunter’s deep voice said behind me, and I whipped around with a gasp.

Hunter stood between me and my only viable exit. He wore the same clothes from the night before but was sporting a black eye from where I had punched him.

The sight of him banged up almost brought a little smile to my face, but I didn’t let it show. I wasn’t foolish enough to give him any sort of reaction. He was still twice my size and held Leah hostage somewhere.

I’d let him think he had the upper hand. For now.

“I almost didn’t think you’d show,” Hunter grinned, “but then you’d never let anything happen to poor little Leah, would you?”

At the mention of her name, my hands closed into fists and a fierce protectiveness surged through me. “Where is she?”

“About that …” Hunter’s grin widened into a sneer as he retrieved something from his back pocket.

A second later, he raised his right hand and there was a phone in his grip. It was Leah’s. I recognized her phone case with smiley faces all over it.

I glanced between Leah’s phone and Hunter’s smug face. It suddenly clicked. Leah wasn’t here. She never was. Hunter lied to get me here. To get me alone. And it worked.

Hunter laughed. “I’m assuming your friend is at home now, safe and sound. It was almost too easy to swipe her phone in class this morning. A little smile and a well-placed distraction was all it took.”

Knowing Leah was safe settled some of the nerves inside me before I realized the situation I was in.

I should’ve waited for Drew. I shouldn’t have come here alone.

“Now,” Hunter turned serious then, his voice deep and growly, “where’s the dagger?”

I shifted in place and looked around the apartment for an exit strategy. There wasn’t one. I was trapped.

I looked back at Hunter and squared my shoulders for what I was to say next .

“It’s not here,” I said cautiously. “I don’t have it.”

Hunter stepped forward. “Don’t lie to me. Where the fuck is it?”

“I’m not lying.” I stood my ground. “It’s back in Vegas with everything else I left behind.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Looks like you came a long way for nothing.”

“No!” Hunter kicked a broken table leg, scattering some of the other debris that was littered around him. “That can’t be true! We looked everywhere.” He paced back and forth, seething. “Your place. And Adrian’s. Even that old lady’s house next door. It wasn’t there!”

I shuffled sideways, closer to my open bedroom on the right. If I could just make it there, I could lock the door behind me. It wouldn’t hold him for long, but I could go out the window and down the fire-escape. He might follow me, but I was smaller and faster than he was.

I could make it.

Focused on my escape, I didn’t notice Hunter approach me until it was too late.

He grabbed me by the shoulders, squeezing so hard I gasped at the pain that flared where I had landed on my shoulder a few days ago. He leaned down to my height and roared in my face.

“Don’t even think about it, bitch!” Hunter shook me in place, but my attention was on something behind him.

What is that?

“When I get you back to Vegas, I’m gonna—” Hunter grunted, and his eyes rolled back then closed as he slumped to the floor unconscious.

“Man, that kid’s annoying,” a strange man said a few feet in front of me.

Oh, my God.

Panic gripped me anew as one threat replaced another .

It was the man in the hoodie. The man who attacked me in the library and who ran me and Leah off the road.

I took a step back, but the man followed, side-stepping Hunter’s unconscious body.

“Whoa, little bird.” The man raised his arms as if to show he wasn’t a threat. “I don’t mean any harm.”

“W—why did you do that?” I pointed down at Hunter in shock. Not believing him but still confused. “Who are you?”

The man sighed, almost relieved. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, little bird.

I’m trying to help. I’m on your side. I’m sorry if I scared you and about your shoulder.

” The man shrugged, which was almost comical at his size because he was built like a linebacker.

“But you got me good with that mace. I’ll give you that. ”

I eyed the stranger, more confused than anything.

He was trying to help? Well, he wasn’t doing a very good job, attacking me and all.

I eyed him curiously, trying to place him. He sounded like he knew me, but that wasn’t possible. I’d never seen this man before in my life.

Why would he help me if he wanted the dagger, too?

The man reached up and rubbed at his bald head. “The name’s Mack,” he said, “like the truck.”

I would have laughed if I wasn’t still buzzing with residual adrenaline and fear.

Mack, like the truck, was a perfect name for him, considering his size and foreboding presence. Not to mention the man looked like he’d lived a dark and dangerous life just by the amount of scars visible on his exposed arms, neck, and face. He wasn’t someone you’d ever want to cross paths with.

So why the hell was he claiming to help me and not threatening me to hand over the dagger to him? Who was he working for ?

As if he saw that question written plainly across my face, Mack answered.

“Your father sent me.”