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I look back up at Luca. He caresses my notebook across his lips.
“It’s not so bad, is it?” he says. “I’ll probably get bored after a few months anyway. What’s a few months of your life, Lynch? You’ve survived worse predators, remember?”
I try to block out his voice, focus on the black, cold calm inside me. What’s there to fight? I’m fucked if I do, fucked if I don’t.
And he’s not wrong, not in this instance. I’ve survived worse. What’s being hunted like an animal once a month? Luca has no idea the kind of animal he’ll find in me.
I stare at the dotted line. I’ve never been one to baulk or cower. This contract is nothing—Luca himself will tear it up. I’ll make sure of it. That’s my oath to myself.
Taking the pen out from between my teeth, I sign without looking at Luca. I still hear the smile in his voice when he speaks.
“Good girl.”
13
Sad Little Poor Girl
Luca
Willow does not giveme the satisfaction of appearing particularly tortured by her defeat. She signs the contract and slides it back to me with a careless push of her fingers, tossing the pen down. I notice her glancing down at her leg, eyes flicking down for a split second. Maybe the pain she’s in is more distracting than it looks.
“Five thousand is nowhere near enough incentive for the hunt,” she says abruptly, slumping back into the couch. “You want me to give you a run for your money? Then put your money where your mouth is.” She gives me a smile dripping with disdain. “Cheapskate,” she adds for good measure.
“Ten thousand if you don’t get caught.”
“Alright. Seven hundred acres of property, huh? Your rich daddy buy you all that for your twelfth birthday?”
My father did not, in fact, buy my property or the land it sits on. I bought that all on my own, with a few favours from a few powerfulfriends.
I don’t bother correcting Willow.
“Sorry my father loves me more than yours loves you,” I say instead, remembering the conspicuous absence of a father’s name on her birth certificate.
She lets out a dry laugh, narrows her eyes to me. Willow, like Iakov, doesn’t look away or drop her gaze from mine. She doesn’t even seem uncomfortable. And maybe it’s because she’s not, or maybe because she’s used to hiding her discomfort.
“What if I leave your property without realising?” she asks.
“It’s gated. If you leave the property, you’ll know. As per the terms of the contract, the hunt will be null and void and will have to be repeated.”
“Right. And when does the hunt end?”
“When I catch you or if you make it back to the house unscathed.”
“I should get an hour’s head start.”
I scoff. “You may have ten minutes.”
“What’s the point in that? Make it twenty.”
“Fifteen if I’m in a good mood.”
She shrugs. “Sure—deal. And I can do anything I need to escape? Any means necessary, right?”
I narrow my eyes, alarm bells ringing in my head. “What do you mean?”
“Youcan hunt me down however you want. It has to go both ways.”
“Very well. But the dogs are off-limits.”
