Page 44 of While She Sleeps (The Hunter and The Thief #1)

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

EMBER

A fter Orion leaves, I head out, knowing if I spend too long in the apartment that smells of our night of fucking, I’ll cave and let him talk me into seeing him again.

So instead, I follow up on a lead I found a couple of days ago.

The Hunter is an enigma.

On paper, he doesn’t exist.

There’s no trail that connects his identity with an actual human being, and believe me, I’ve looked.

I’ve tried connecting phone records, bank accounts, and even medical records from the times Lucas is certain the Hunter was injured, but nothing matches up.

If I didn’t know any better, I would think he doesn’t exist.

But unfortunately, I know that’s not the case.

He killed my brother. He almost killed me. And that means I need to find him.

I don’t think I’ll know peace until he’s no longer breathing.

I step into the small corner shop and smile at the girl behind the counter. She’s probably a couple of years younger than me, with long raven hair pulled into a neat ponytail on the top of her head.

Wary green eyes look me over as I approach, and I plaster a bright smile on my face.

“Hi! I spoke with someone a couple of days ago about looking at a recording from your cameras out back?”

Her brows tug together, and her eyes look to what I assume is the backroom. I spoke to who I assume is her mother, but she clearly hasn’t filled in the girl in front of me.

I take a step closer and pop my hip against the counter.

“My boyfriend is notorious for cheating on me. I know I need to leave him, but he’s possessive, and he’s so good at gaslighting me that I always end up caving.

” I sigh dramatically. “I thought if I had the footage, maybe he’d actually let me go, you know?

If I have a video that shows him with another woman, surely he can’t make it look like I’m insane, like he usually does. ”

It’s the same story I told the woman I spoke to, almost to the word, and it seems to do the job as the girl’s shoulders relax slightly.

“I’m sorry he treats you like that,” she says softly.

“My mom said someone would be by.” She reaches under the counter, and I hold my breath for a moment.

I’ve seen one too many shopkeepers pull a gun, but when she drops a thumb drive on the counter, I relax slightly.

“There’s an hour either side of the time you mentioned he might be in the area on here. I hope it helps.”

I look up at the ceiling, not at all faking the gratitude I feel for her, even if my excuse for needing the footage is a complete fabrication. “Thank you so much. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

She gives me a slight smile as I slip the thumb drive into my purse and turn on my heel, waving over my shoulder as I push out into the afternoon heat.

At least I’m only about a half-hour walk back to my apartment, because walking in this sun is brutal.

The streets are quieter on the weekend in this area, considering all the office buildings are mostly empty, but there are a few people milling around as I turn down a side street to cut a few minutes off my walk and get out of the beaming sun.

My phone vibrates for the fifth time since I left my apartment, and I sigh.

It can only be one of two people, and I don’t feel like dealing with either of them.

But if it’s Lucas, he’ll just get more and more agitated the longer I ignore him, and if it’s Orion, I don’t want him to worry, even if I am trying to break things off with him.

Turns out, it’s both of them.

Fantastic.

Lucas: Where’s the money, Ember? I expect it by the end of the day, or I’m adding another ten grand to your debt.

Lucas: Don’t ignore me, Ember. And get me an update about the Hunter.

I groan and type out a quick reply, once again reminding him I’m not a prostitute and would not be charging anyone to spend time with me, and tack on the end that I’m working on a lead and will let him know if I have anything.

Orion: I swear I wasn’t talking to myself when I laid out your rules last night, Ember. Where are you?

Orion: Please don’t ignore me. Let me know where you are and if you’re safe.

Orion: Ember?

I roll my eyes at his worry. It’s literally been two hours since he left my apartment. What exactly does he think could have happened to me in that time?

Ember: I’m fine. I’m just working. I’ll let you know when I’m home.

There. Quick, straight to the point, no emotions. That should put his mind at ease without confusing the situation.

Except my phone vibrates in my hand again before I can think to slip it back into my purse. Oh, for god’s sake. He’s not making this easy for me.

Probably because you promised you wouldn’t run, I remind myself.

Orion: That doesn’t answer my question. Where are you?

Ember: About twenty minutes from my apartment. I don’t know what street it is, but I’m fine. No need to worry.

Having someone care about my whereabouts is new. Travis never cared where I went or who I was with. At least not until toward the end.

He started asking more questions, insisting on coming with me when I left the apartment, but it was right around the time he broke up with Sally, so it probably had more to do with being lonely than what I was doing.

My phone buzzes in my hand, and I roll my eyes when I realize he’s calling me. Doesn’t he know you don’t call anymore?

“Hello?” I insert as much annoyance into my tone as I can, even if there is a funny feeling rolling in my stomach at the idea he cares this much. Why does he have to make it so hard to walk away?

“Where are you? I’ll come meet you.”

I sigh. “Orion. I’m fine. Seriously. I’m not far from my apartment.”

“Where, Ember?” He growls. Why does he have to sound so sexy when he uses that tone? It should annoy me. Hell, if any other man growled at me, I’d probably throat punch him, but with Orion, I have to pointedly ignore the ache between my thighs.

“I don’t know what street I’m on.” I look around the side street as if it’s going to have a sign. “But seriously, I need you to stop worrying about me. I’ve been taking care of myself all my life. I don’t need a big, bad entrepreneur to swoop in and save me.”

Silence meets me on the other side of the line, and I can swear I hear him scoff, but it’s long seconds before he speaks again.

“Ember, I want to make something perfectly clear to you. The next time you refuse to tell me where you are, I will tie you to the bed and bring you to the edge of orgasm for hours, maybe even days, if I can swing it. You’ll be so fucking mindless with need, and even then, I won’t take pity on you.

” He pauses, probably amused by how labored my breathing has become all of a sudden.

“I take your safety very seriously, and you’re making it difficult for me to make sure you’re safe. ”

I nibble at my bottom lip, considering my options. I’m trying my hardest to distance myself from the man. I thought by giving him the cold shoulder this morning and all but throwing him out of my apartment that he would get the hint, but it’s obvious the opposite has happened. Somehow.

God, men are confusing.

The sound of tires on the street behind me drags my attention from the call and onto the nondescript van moving slowly at the end of the street.

My stomach rolls uncomfortably, and I pick up my pace. I need to get back out on the main road, even if I’m sure I’m just being paranoid.

“Ember?”

“I need to go,” I say quickly, ending the call and throwing my phone back into my purse.

I check my surroundings again, making sure I haven’t missed anyone lurking behind a dumpster, but as far as I can tell, it’s just me and the van, which seems to be getting closer.

Why would someone be following me?

It doesn’t make a lot of sense, but I’m also not willing to take any chances.

If that van is following me, they could try to get me inside, which is only going to trigger a panic attack and make it impossible for me to escape.

No, I can’t allow that to happen.

I pick up my pace, pushing my legs as hard as they’ll go without breaking out into a full-on sprint. Even after months of physical therapy after the accident, my hip still aches when I push it too hard, and I have a feeling I’ll be spending my night in the bath trying to settle the pain as it is.

It doesn’t help that I only threw on a pair of open-toed sandals this morning with the floral dress I picked to make me look sweet and innocent at the corner store.

The van picks up pace behind me, the tires rolling over the uneven street as I approach the mouth of the side street.

So close.

Just a few more yards.

The telltale sound of a door sliding open is all I need to know I’m out of time, and I don’t hesitate to run.

I don’t care how much it hurts later, as long as they don’t get me in that van.

My feet hit the pavement with heavy slaps, and my hip screams in pain, but I ignore it all, just focusing on making it out onto the street.

“She’s running,” someone shouts, but I ignore them, pushing myself harder.

Hands reach for me, but I manage to dodge them, never pausing even as I round the corner and sprint up the street. It may be more populated, but that doesn’t mean I’m safe, especially given that it’s the weekend. There are far fewer people loitering when most of the businesses are closed.

Two sets of footsteps are right behind me, both heavier than mine, telling me they’re both men. I already knew at least one of them was from their voice, but confirming both are likely larger and stronger than me has my already labored breathing picking up. One man I can take. Two…not so much.

I am so fucked.

But I can’t give up.

At this pace, I’m only another minute, maybe two, from my apartment.

Except that means leading them straight to where I live. If they don’t already know.

Fuck.

This is where living alone is tricky.

I try to think of somewhere else I can go, anywhere, but I have no friends, no family. I have no one that would give a fuck if these assholes poached me off the street and killed me, and that’s a cold, sobering realization.

The diner I sometimes grab dinner at comes into view, and I don’t hesitate, quickly closing the distance between me and the door, and throw it open. I step inside and shove the door shut behind me, taking in the surprised expressions on the other patrons’ faces.

“Are you okay, honey?” Beatrice asks. The older woman has owned this place for decades and always remembers my order when I come in.

I shake my head, my breathing becoming panicked and rough. Oh god. I can’t have a panic attack here. There’s no way I can allow all these people to see me weak.

She hurries around the counter and wraps her arm around my waist, helping me further into the aging diner.

It may not look like much, but it’s always busy, and the food is fucking fantastic for a greasy spoon.

“Come sit down. I’ll get you some water.

” She looks around at everyone staring and gives them a pointed glare, which has their attention turning back to their meals. “Nosy fuckers.”

A startled laugh tumbles from my throat, and she gives me a soft smile.

Once she’s sure I’m not going to fall off the stool she helped me climb onto, she steps behind the counter and busies herself getting me a glass of water as well as a soda, sliding them both over the worn counter toward me.

I flick a glance over my shoulder, but the van is nowhere to be found. Hopefully that means they’ve fucked off, but I’ve never been lucky enough to let myself hope.

“Thank you,” I murmur, wrapping my hand around the water and taking a few quick sips.

“Have some soda. The sugar should help a little.”

I nod and do as she says, my hand trembling as I bring the straw to my mouth and take a healthy sip of the sweet, carbonated drink.

“Can I get you something to eat? Or can I call someone for you?”

I shake my head. “I’m okay. I just got a fright.” It was more than that, but I don’t need everyone in here to know my business.

She assesses me for a moment before the bell above the door rings, and she glances up, a soft smile on her face. “I think this one might be here for you.”

I flick a look over my shoulder and find Orion’s dark eyes staring at me. His suit is rumpled, his hair messier than usual, and the emotions swirling around in his onyx gaze take my breath away. Worry, panic even, as he takes me in, zeroing in on my shaking hands.

Oh, I’m in some trouble.