Page 9 of Hunt You Down

André’s hands stopped in my hair, and trying to jostle me as little as possible, he tightened his grip on me, leaning down to whisper in my ear. “Look you up?” he scoffed. “Hell no.”

My heart dropped into my stomach, but he continued in that low, growling tone that had my dick attempting to rally once more. “Boy, I’m gonna hunt you down.”

Chapter Five

Three weeks later, I sat at a stuffy steakhouse overlooking River Street. A prosecutor sat across from me, but I couldn’t look at him. The lawyers, the court dates, the police… It was all becoming too much. So instead, I stared at out the window, pretending the cobblestones on the street would lead me right back to⁠—

“David, are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”

I pulled my attention away from the street. Nicholas Stark was the type of guy I typically would have avoided. Rich and smarmy, and way too young-looking to seem any good at his job. But, he also had a ninety-three percent conviction rate—and Daddy’s money was paying for dinner. He poured himself another glass of expensive red wine and offered me the bottle. I declined.

“Regan has agreed to sign a plea deal that would keep him away for at least a year. That’s plenty of time for⁠—”

“No, it’s not,” I snapped. Despite my nerves, I managed to grab the attention of the server as she passed the table. “Can I have a mint julep please?”

Looking back to Nicholas, he eyed me from across the table, clearly wanting to say something, but I continued. “I gave Regan every opportunity to leave me alone, and look what happened. I’m not letting him get away with a plea when he’s ignored every warning given to him. I have to do this for my own safety, and my family’s safety. You’re supposed to be the best at this.”

“Here you go, sir.”

The server briefly interrupted our conversation to set my drink in front of me. Condensation beaded over the side of the glass, and I happily reached for it. Despite barely bordering on spring, Georgia was sticky and humid already. I brought the mint julep to my mouth and took a sip. I instantly relaxed as the smooth bourbon slid down my throat and the tingle from the mint tickled my sinuses. Closing my eyes, I let that single taste carry me away.

I hadn’t heard from André, but he’d left a note the next morning… right next to the wrapper from the condom we’d used.

I don’t usually do this, but after last night, I know I won’t be able to get you out of my head. You’re something special Gemini. Use this as you see fit.

Beneath the note was his phone number. I’d tucked the piece of paper away, along with the wrapper, but I had yet to contact him. I wasn’t sure what I’d say if I did.

“It’s going to be a long process, and it won’t be easy.” Ugh, right. I wasn’t in New Orleans anymore. Nicolas took a sip of his wine. “They’re going to ask you a lot of difficult questions.”

“Fine.” It wasn’t fine, but what choice did I have? “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Nicholas took a deep breath and tucked his files away in his briefcase. He stood and gestured to my empty glass. “Stay as long as you like and have as many of those as you want. They have my card on file. I’ll see you on Thursday. Rest up.”

I stayed for another hour with one more mint julep. The more the smooth, earthy bourbon slid down my throat, the more I wanted André next to me. That night we spent together was the first time in months I hadn’t stressed over something. Fueled by bourbon and the desperate need for something that didn’t have to do with Regan, I pulled my phone from my pocket.

Any chance we can see each other again soon?

I didn’t want to be that guy, but I needed an escape. I needed a way to forget. Things were just beginning, and it was going to be a long, hard road before I could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I stood to leave, and my phone buzzed in my hand.

Let me see what I can do, baby.

Ten days later, I stood in front of the mirror, buttoning up the only half-decent shirt I had. After securing each cheap, plastic button, I fastened up my black slacks. Threading my belt through the loops, I tried to ignore how many holes I’d already had to punch through the leather to make it fit. I adjusted my collar, missing the faded mark from that night.

As I did up my cuffs and reached for my jacket, Dylan knocked softly on the door, and I jumped. He’d been trying his best not to startle me, but it hadn’t been easy–especially approaching the trial. Every step I took was met with a glance over my shoulder, or checking every door to make sure it was shut. Reaching over, I undid the lock. “Come in.”

The door creaked open. “Are you ready?”

I took a deep breath. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Security was more than I expected. Keys, wallet, phones, all in a basket and they went through a scanner. We stepped through one metal detector, then were scanned by a handheld one. Once we were cleared, it took us at least five minutes to figure out where we were supposed to be. It was Dylan who found Regan’s name on the boards in the end, and we made our way to the courtroom.

Nicholas waited outside the door, hands in the pockets of his designer suit. His hair was perfectly done, and if I tried, I could probably see my reflection in his shoes.

“Make sure both of your phones are off. Not silent; off.” His face turned somber. “David, this isn’t going to be easy.”

Dylan put a supportive hand on my shoulder. “You’ve got this.”