The Hunted (Sleeping With Monsters Book 2) Read Free Page A

those keys
to unlock me now.” He looked over at them on the bed.
    “But –“
    “Don’t make me repeat
myself,” he quietly warned. That voice – it was all southside, what I was used
to. I got off of him and reached for the keys, unlocking him quickly.
    He took the condom off
with one hand and stood, tucking himself back inside his pants.
    “You’ll come in time to
learn you can always trust what I say,” he said as he refastened his belt. I
nodded, because I didn’t know what else to do.
    “This is your thing?
Confusing prostitutes?”
    “No.” He threw the
condom away, and put the cuffs in his back pocket. “My thing is finding
interesting people and fucking them.”
    “Am I interesting?” I
hated myself for asking it half-a-second too late.
    “Oh yes.” He put his
hand out – and I handed his wallet over to him. He opened it and took the rest
of the cash out and gave it to me.
    “I work for the family,”
he said, by way of explanation. “Same time, next week?”
    I nodded again.
    He waited for a moment,
looking down at me appraisingly. “Good. But next time you’re going to let me
use the cuffs on you.”
    #
    A car slowed, and I
looked up. The man on the other end of the line hadn’t told me what he’d be
driving. The window rolled down and I started up from the building’s side to
walk over.
    “Hey,” the driver shouted. He
was shadowed by his own car and I couldn’t see him.
    “Hey,” I said back.
    “I ain’t seen you down here
before, baby –“ he said, clucking his tongue at me.
    Some john, or a pimp, Christ –
“Fuck you,” I flipping him off.
    “Come on baby, I got cash –“
    I turned away.
    “Come on,” he pleaded. “Come
on come on come on –“
    I whirled and ran at his car,
momentarily insane. “Didn’t you hear me? Go fuck yourself!”
    I kicked out at his door. The
anger I hadn’t gotten to take out on the Carminos I released now, swinging my
backpack off my shoulder and out at him, missing as he drove away. I spun off
balance in the middle of the street as he shouted, “Crazy bitch!” and peeled
off.
    Vincent had promised me that
life was behind me – and I’d believed him. And now here I was, just hours after
--
    “Hey. You.” There was a truck
parked across the street. I could only see a sliver of a man inside, glowering
at me from inside the cab. Without thinking, I flipped him off.
    “Hey, you ,” he said,
slightly louder.
    I stood up straight. “What?”
    “Get in the truck.” He leaned
over and opened up the passenger door.
    I hesitated. I hadn’t
introduced myself on the phone. It could be him. Or it could be another hopeful
john. Or a hopeful serial killer.
    I would have followed Vincent
into hell – but who the hell was this? I wish I’d asked for a code word.
    “Get in,” he commanded. I
hitched my backpack higher. I had to get myself together. I had ID, money – I
knew how to get more money if I had to –
    The light changed and the car
behind the truck honked its horn. The truck drove off, too fast, angry, I heard
tires squealing. I sagged against the building.
    Had it been him? Had I missed
my chance?
    Chance at what? What was there
left for me now that Vincent was gone?
    I stood there, breathing raw,
the whole world pressing in. I had to get out of here, out of town, away – I’d
buy a flight to Mexico and start over again, somehow.
    The sound of an engine roared
up behind me. I turned just in time to see the truck pass me and hop the curb.
    It was the Carminos – my God –
I tried to run but before I could the driver was out on the sidewalk with me,
grabbing me. I screamed as he threw me bodily into his truck, knowing that
screams down on the southside were ignored, and he slammed the door shut.
    I curled up into a protective
ball on the passenger seat, still wearing my backpack, no seatbelt on.
    “You called me ,
remember?” the man behind the wheel complained.
    The truck was old and it
smelled like dog. He had dusty