“Get. The. Fuck. Out,” Hunter says carefully, his voice so low and dangerous, it sends a jolt of fear down my spine.
My back is against the door, so I can’t move any farther away from him. I push back anyway, like I can disappear into it if I push hard enough. “Hunter, I wasn’t—We weren’t—He set me up.”
“Oh yeah?” He stalks closer. “He kidnapped you and dragged you to my house, to my bedroom without anyone noticing you crying out for help?”
My flush deepens. “Well, no.”
“Are you here with him?” he demands.
“Well… technically,” I say uncertainly.
He’s close enough to reach both of us now. Sherlock hasn’t left yet, he’s still standing in the doorway. Hunter looks over at him, eyes narrowed. “What the fuck are you waiting for? I said get out of my house.”
I cast an anxious look at Sherlock, who—for a split second—looks torn. “Are you gonna be okay?” he asks me.
I think he really means it, but he’s got some fucking nerve.
Hunter really doesn’t appreciate his friend’s apparent concern for me.
He turns on Sherlock, grabbing him by the shirt and shoving him backward. “Get the fuck away from us before I put you through a goddamn wall.”
“I’ll be fine,” I assure the asshole who lured me here. I’m mad as hell at him, but I don’t want him and Hunter to lock horns. Hunter will calm down once I’m able to explain what happened, but the longer Sherlock stands there, the more pissed off Hunter will get. “Go.”
Sherlock glances from me to Hunter, not appearing entirely convinced, but he didn’t come here to fight with Hunter.
Apparently, he brought me here to feed me to him.
So, without further concern for my well-being, Sherlock accepts my assurance and disappears down the hall.
Once he’s gone, Hunter turns back to me and glares. “Fucking Sherlock? Seriously, Riley?”
I swallow, regarding Hunter with caution as he stalks toward me. “It wasn’t how it looked. We weren’t making out in the hall. He tricked me.”
Hunter grabs me by the shirt, just like he did Sherlock. I gasp, but he doesn’t shove me out of his bedroom—he pulls me farther into it so he can shut and lock the door.
“He—He told me you were having a hard time.” Hunter backs me up toward the wall. I stumble, but I don’t go far since he’s still got that grip on my shirt. “He had this stupid idea to—to come here together tonight, but it wasn’t a date. He just thought if you saw me with him, it might surprise you and then you’d talk to me.”
“Oh, I’ll fucking talk to you, all right,” he says, slamming me back against the wall so hard, I gasp at the impact. His gaze drops to my bottom lip. His jaw locks. I can see the rage burning in his eyes, imagine the memory of another man’s mouth on mine flashing through his mind.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “I know how it must have looked, but he’s your friend, Hunter. I would never do that to you.”
Hunter nods, but I can see in his face he doesn’t believe me. “Right. That’s why you’re dressed like that, huh? Because you’re not interested in him? I saw you laughing at him at lunch today.”
My stomach drops.
“Is he funny, Riley?”
I stiffen as Hunter leans in, hovering near my neck, but not kissing it. It’s more like he’s sniffing around, making sure no rival animal has marked any more of his territory than my mouth. Like he’ll be able to smell him on me.
“I swear to God, Hunter, it wasn’t like that. I thought he was being friendly. He made it seem like he was being friendly. He lured me here under the pretense of helping you. I never would have come to your party with some other guy. You know me. You know that.”
“I don’t know what I fucking know anymore, Riley. I know Sherlock’s no purse-holder. I fucking know that.”
I’ve never seen Hunter this angry before. He got jealous of Anderson at Valerie’s party, but that was nothing compared to this.
I guess he didn’t really see Anderson as a threat.
The same can’t be said of Sherlock.
“I don’t like him,” I say softly, looking up at him, pleading with him to believe me. “I don’t. I wouldn’t hurt you like that.”
Hunter lets go of my shirt with one hand, sliding it up my neck and grazing the side of my face before pushing his fingers through my hair and making a fist. “No, not on purpose you wouldn’t,” he says quietly.
My stomach drops when I catch a whiff of alcohol on his breath.
He’s been drinking.
“But you can’t really help who you like, can you, Catnip? God knows if you could, I wouldn’t like you.”
I swallow, my heart skipping a quick beat. I look down just so I don’t have to look at him. “That’s mean, Hunter.”
He scoffs. “No, it’s not. You want to see mean?”
Still avoiding his gaze, I shake my head.
I know he’s angry, but beneath that he’s hurt, and I feel absolutely awful about it.
He lets go of my shirt and my hair. For a split second, I feel relief, but then he grabs my purse.
I’m so stunned, I scowl at him and try to grab it back. “What are you doing?”
He’s a hell of a lot stronger than I am, so he has no trouble ripping it away from me. “I want to see what you have in here.”
“What?” My heart drops when I remember what’s in that purse.
Oh no.
I reach for it. “Hunter, no. Give it back.”
His eyes narrow suspiciously.
Fuck. I’ve only interested him in the contents more.
I lick my lips, thinking fast, but I can’t come up with a way out of this.
He opens the purse.
“Hunter, don’t,” I plead, reaching for it again.
He pulls out my phone first, but doesn’t try to open it. He draws out my wallet next.
I close my eyes as he reaches into the bag one more time.
And pulls out a condom.
Chapter Thirty Nine
Riley
Accusation hangs heavy in the air as Hunter holds that small, foil-wrapped package between his fingers.
My stomach rocks so violently, I think I’m going to be sick.
I open my eyes and utter words I already know he won’t believe. “I didn’t bring that because I had any plans to use it. It was purely a precaution, and not for him—I put that in there after homecoming.”
Hunter closes his fist around the condom, squeezing it like he wishes it was Sherlock’s throat.
Or maybe mine. I’m not sure anymore.
“Were you going to fuck him tonight?”
My heart jumps to my throat. “No.”
As if I haven’t even spoken, he leans closer. Angrier. “Were you going to fuck him in my bedroom, Riley? Is that what you were going to do?”
“No.” I shake my head more desperately. “Hunter, you know I would never, ever do that.”
“You stole my idea and turned it against me. I knew you were mad at me about Valerie, but that is immensely fucked up.” I jump as he tosses my purse and all its contents on the floor and stalks over to me, his beautiful features twisted with anger.