Hunter
A seriesof text alerts on my phone snapped me out of my slumber. As I opened my eyes, the memory of the dream I’d been having drained away like water in a sinkhole. I tried to scoop some of it up and figure out why I was drenched in sweat, but most of it had already vanished.
All I could picture was a hazy image of the new girl. Laney Collins. Her and blood. Blood everywhere.
Then it was gone.
With a tired groan, I pressed a palm against my forehead, already feeling the first pangs of a hangover. Then I rolled over and checked my phone. It was after one in the afternoon. I’d managed to sleep for twelve straight hours.
Fuck.This kept happening to me lately. I found it harder and harder to get out of bed with each day that passed, whether I was hungover or not.
Yawning loudly, I read through my messages. The first one was some pointless shit from one of the guys about some girl he was screwing. Apparently she wouldn’t leave his room after staying there last night.
The second message was more interesting. Elijah had spotted Laney, Adam, and Trina hanging out near the lake at RFA with a blanket and a picnic basket. He’d attached some photos.
I smirked at the sight. Fucking losers, hanging around school on the weekend. Elijah only went in because he figured she’d be there, and he wanted to be the first to track her activity today.
I had all of the Princes on Laney Duty now, studying her routines and following her movements like she was a tagged shark in the wild. Part of it was to make sure she didn’t do anything to my brother, and the rest was for my own personal satisfaction. I liked the idea of showing her the photos one day and watching her face contort with fear as she realized her private moments were never really private. Someone had always been following her, watching her, knowingher.
Oh, I knew things about her, all right…
Wicked things. Evil, nasty things. They drifted into my mind like dark specters, making my guts roil.
I grimaced and got up, straightening my spine as I recalled last night’s party. I didn’t organize the lottery hoax at Laney’s expense—that was Talia and her gang—but I enjoyed the victory all the same.
Until I made it to the center of the stage, that is.
Something weird happened to me when I saw Laney standing there, shoulders hunched and face pink with shame. It all started to feel wrong. Totally fucking wrong. I couldn’t find any amusement in the scene unfolding before me; just a sick sense of dread.
The look of horror and despair in her teary green eyes haunted me all night. It didn’t make any sense, because I wanted it. I wanted her to experience nothing but pain and humiliation for the things she’d done. I wanted her to be scared of her own shadow as long as she was in my town. I wanted her to be put firmly in her place and learn the consequences of crossing me.
But when I caught sight of the stark shock and confusion in her eyes, I had doubts for the very first time. Just for a second.
I had no idea why, because I knew what she was. She was a liar, a fucking evil little liar, and a psychopath to boot. She didn’t feel remorse, shame, or grief. She wasn’t capable of it, and the tears and terror on her face were just an act to evoke sympathy in the few people she’d drawn into her twisted web.
All I had to do was remind myself of that. Then the hatred would return, stoking that terrible rage inside me, like an animal made of teeth and fire.
And yet the memory of Laney’s expression still bothered me every time it flashed in my mind.
I pushed the troublesome thoughts aside and left my room, heading for the second-floor gym in the east wing of the house. I always liked to get a workout in before my shower and breakfast, even if I was hungover as fuck. Routines were important to me, and I didn’t like them to be disturbed. They functioned as a distraction; kept the demons at bay.
On my way down the hall, I heard a strange grunting sound coming from behind one of the doors, followed by a feminine moan. Curious, I stopped in my tracks. My father’s study lay behind that door, but he couldn’t be in there right now. He wasn’t meant to be home from his latest business trip until Monday.
A smirk played on my lips as I realized what the most likely explanation for the sound was. Some of the house staff were hooking up with each other. Probably thought they could get their rocks off even harder if they fucked in the boss’s office.
I threw open the door, hoping to catch them right in the middle of the act, just so I could see the hilarious look of shock and horror on their faces.
Instead, the only shock and horror in the room was my own.
My father had a leggy blonde girl bent over his desk. His belt was unbuckled, and he was roughly driving into her, moving the hardwood desk a fraction of an inch every time he thrust.
He held the girl’s hair in a tight fist, pulling it so hard her eyes were scrunched up with pain, and his other hand rained down slaps on her pert ass, making her squeal. The engraved silver signet ring he wore on that hand caught the afternoon light with every upward movement, shining a Tudor rose pattern onto the wall.
“Naughty little slut,” he grunted, hitting the girl’s ass harder. “You want it in here instead?”
“Yes, sir,” she gasped. “Put it in my ass!”
My silent shock finally melted into disgust and anger, and my eyes narrowed as my hands curled up by my side. “What the fuck?”