Page 23 of Hunt Me

Gathering all my courage, I take a breath and reach out, my trembling hands pinching the ends of the stems. Some of the petals start to flake off, but as I pull the small bouquet into the air, a note flutters to the ground.

Everything in me wants this to be from Arhe. Every atom in my body needs it to be from anyone else except the psychopathic asshole who followed me into the alley. And if it’s the same man as before—the one who can’t seem to let go—this isn’t his style. His style is more like harass me to the point I can’t eat or sleep, and when I’m at my weakest, corner me somewhere no one will be able to find me and put his hands on my throat.

But maybe he’s gotten more clever.

A whine rises in the back of my throat as I bend down and swipe the note off the ground. And it takes another moment oftrying and failing to be brave before I glance down at the words. And then my heart races for another reason.

The unsteady cursive belongs to Arhe.

My cheeks flush, and that horrified heat changes to something else. Anger mixed with lust.

I’m furious, still reeling with humiliation from being left in the cemetery—no matter how much I think I might deserve it for being a creep and following him. But he had me so worked up, and I was so sure he wanted me, and then I’d spent all damn day full of doubt, thinking I was wrong. Thinking he just wanted to teach me a lesson. That he wanted to be like all the other assholes from my past who got off on making me feel like shit about myself.

But that’s not what this means. This isn’t just a message. It’s a gift.

I scan the words he scrawled, fingers tracing his harsh, slashing scribble.

Little Rabbit,

I’m coming for you.

A rush of excitement moves through me. He might be coming back for me, but I will not give in easily. This time, I won’t be bending over an old headstone for him. This time, he’s going to have to work for it.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and glance over at Rene, who’s squinting down at the paper in my hands.

‘What that?’ Rene asks.

I crush the note in my fingers and spin on my heels, facing him. ‘Nosy bitch.’

His eyes twinkle. ‘Who’s Rabbit?’

Seeing that sign on his hands, remembering the way Arhe’s lips curved around the sounds as he pinned me to the coldmarble and grazed his hands over my panties, makes me hot down to my core. My dick twitches, and I will it down with all the strength I have left.

‘No one,’ I manage to answer.

I sit down and look at the wilted flowers.

He didn’t put them in water because of course he didn’t. It doesn’t take a genius to know where he got these. This isn’t a supermarket or florist bouquet. These were plucked from graves in the very spot where he’d left me.

I understand the message now, even without the note. He didn’t forget me. Whatever prevented him from coming back, it wasn’t for lack of wanting me.

I unscrew the cap of my half-filled water bottle and stick the wilted flowers inside. Maybe there’s a chance they can still be saved. Like my sanity, because no sane person is this turned on over a man like Arhe.

Rene taps me again and lifts his brow, tilting his head to the side before pointing at the makeshift vase. ‘Don’t lie.’

I know he’s not going to let this go, but we have a show, so maybe I can buy myself some time while I figure out what all of this means. ‘Later.’ I jab my finger at the clock on the wall, and he rolls his eyes before stomping away in his five-inch platform heels.

Taking another calming breath, I grab my makeup kit and get started on making my face a canvas. I’ve never been more grateful for a show because this is probably the only thing in my life that could distract me from my current situation.

Drag makeup really is an art, and in this moment—just for now—it’s the only thing that matters. Staring at myself as I sweep glitter under my brows, I become someone else. I become her—Glimmer Dear. The other side of me that’s brave and confident and doesn’t give a fuck what other people think. My face transforms, and it’s like a shield goes up, protecting mefrom the pain of my past and any pain that might find me in the future.

‘Slay,’ Rene signs as he rushes past me, face half-done.

I grin as I finish up with my setting spray, and then I grab my wig and carefully set it along my hairline. It blends seamlessly, and I adjust it at my temple before carefully finger-combing out a few tangles. The face staring back at me is mine, but it’s also hers, and a thrill runs up my spine the way it does every time I look at myself this way.

Rising from the chair, I grab my electric-blue catsuit from the hanger and slip it on. It fits like a glove, giving me a snatched waist with the built-in corset, and I drag a finger down the dramatic neckline that extends all the way to the top of my navel. Twisting from side to side, I adjust my top, then tug on my sleeves to make sure there’s enough give for all the exaggerated signs I’ll be using during the show.

Satisfaction sits heavily in my stomach as I slip into my metallic stilettos, then take one more look in the mirror. Does Arhe like me this way? Or was he waiting until I peeled out of my dresses and wig when he was here last?