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“And you.” Her eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief, and I laugh softly. “I may be a fan of his in some areas but there’s a lot about him that could use some work.”
She nods and continues washing the dishes, and I grab a cloth to help dry. She looks at me in astonishment and makes to argue, but I shake my head. “I insist.”
By the time I’ve wiped the dishes and helped put them away, we have had a lovely chat and I’m pretty sure she is no threat to Hunter at all. It’s important to maintain my cover though in case she’s approached and asked about our relationship. Just thinking of sharing the same room as Hunter brings me out in a cold sweat imagining what that would be like. I’m really struggling to keep my head in business where it concerns him and am glad of the distance the day has brought.
Rosalie is only here for two hours and I spend the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon delving into his life. I make a flow chart with him at the center and list every person in his life I need to know about. If I am to keep him safe, I need to know potential pitfalls, and so I work from the inside out.
After a while, I take a break and change into my shorts and running vest. Pulling on my sneakers, I decide to head out for a run and grab my water bottle and tie my hair up tight.
Thinking I’ll take the route around Central Park, I head off and feel glad of the fresh air. Hunter’s apartment is certainly impressive, but I need to feel nature around me to breathe properly.
As I set off, I glance at my watch to set my stats and as my feet pound the pavement I feel good about life. I need adrenalin like most people need oxygen, and I certainly get enough of that living with the Twisted Reaper MC. But for how much longer? My shelf life could expire at any time and I’m extremely conscious of that. A stray bullet I wasn’t expecting, a job that goes wrong and ends up with me as the corpse for once. I have been rethinking my occupation for some time now and yet my life is at the Rubicon. I live there with my brother and our new family—the Reapers. I owe them so much, and how can I leave Chase? It’s never going to happen because he’s all I’ve got.
As I run, I think, and I’ve always been the same. I use physical activity to ground me, concentrate my mind and allow me to switch off from life for a bit.
As I jog around the park, I’m suddenly aware that one man has been tailing me for at least twenty minutes already. He’s hanging back and it could just be coincidence, but I took a different path from the usual runners and he turned and followed me. I make a mental note of his appearance. He’s fit, tall and able to keep up and I increase my pace. He stays with me and I wonder who he is?
I know I have no eyes on me by way of security, hell I’d be pissed if I did, so this man is a stranger I need to meet.
Stopping suddenly, I bend down as if to tie my shoelace and wait for him to pass. He slows down as if uncertain and yet has no place to go except to jog toward me. As soon as he’s close, I straighten up and stare him right in the eye and say tightly, “Can I help you?”
He looks a little startled and mumbles something and makes to pass and I say again, “I said, can I help you? I know you’ve been following me. Why?”
He looks past him and I wonder why, because if I’m right, the only reason would be for an escape route, or to check for an accomplice.
He pants, making me realize he’s not as fit as he looks and stutters, “I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.”
Once again, he looks past me and I heighten my senses to listen for anyone approaching from behind.
Something isn’t right here and taking my chance, I glance over my shoulder and see a glint of something through the trees and quickly swing around and in one move, pull the guy in front of me as a shield.
“What the fuck?” The man yells as I peer over his shoulder and see movement in the bushes and I hiss, “Who are you and why are you following me?”
“Jesus Christ, what are you, some crazy bitch or something, let me go?”
Using him as cover, I push him over toward the bushes and then as soon as I have natural cover, I kick his legs from under him and deliver a sharp blow to his head. He passes out cold and I leave him and head through the bushes and look for signs of another attacker and hear the heavy crunch of boots snapping twigs as he goes.
Quickly, I head off in pursuit, and yet despite my best efforts, I watch him disappear into a waiting car near the sidewalk. I snap the plate and car and send it through to Brewer to get an ID on it, then I head back to the man I laid out.
He is groaning as I reach him and I grab his hair and lift his head, “Who are you and don’t even think about lying to me you miserable piece of shit.”
His groans tell me he’s no professional at least and he growls, “Tony Sanders, reporter for The Globe.”
“And the guy who got away?”
“Paparazzi.”
“So, why are you following me?”
He hisses. “Word on the street is Hunter Blake’s got a girlfriend and it’s in the national interest to know who?”
“In the national interest, what are you, a comedian?”
I release his hair and he rubs his head and stares at me with anger. “I’ll sue you, bitch.”
“Go ahead and try, it was self-defense, asshole and nobody would believe a scumbag reporter over me any day of the week.”
Stepping back, I shake my head and say angrily, “Just for the record, next time you want a photograph, an interview, or even to breathe the same air as me, put a request in with my assistant. She goes by the name of Fuck You and you’ll find her up shit creek.” I smile broadly and wink. “This has been fun. We should make it a regular event. Take care of yourself, honey, these streets can be dangerous.”
As I jog off, I’m troubled. I have been Hunter’s girlfriend for 24 hours and not many people know that already, so who the fuck has alerted the press and why?
