Hunted: Chapter 12

We crossed the festival site, passing food trucks and the edge of a carnival, illuminated by fake fire pits burning orange. Competing music disturbed the night. Elise kept with me, her blonde hair and baseball cap an effective disguise.

Though not to me. I’d known her the second I laid eyes on her. A fraction before. Like some kind of crazy fan.

“Sorry about that.” She gestured back to the gate. “I didn’t mean you were no one. It was just so you didn’t end up as a headline.”

“Doesnae matter.”

“I can’t believe you’re even here. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I’m just going to say this. I’m sorry,” she said, her voice tight. “I know you didn’t sell my story to the press.”

My chest compressed. “How?”

“The friend I’d carried out the manure dumping with? She was the source.”

“I didn’t take the picture either,” I gritted out.

“I know that, too.”

She knew?

Pent-up emotions drove my words. “After ye left, I went through hell and high water to find out what happened. I searched everywhere for evidence of that photographer, including working out what angle the picture was taken at. It wasnae right at the window, but farther away, from the rise of the hill. That was the only viewpoint that worked. And through the narrowest gap in the curtains.”

Elise winced. “They do that. Photographers hide out with long lenses. At home, we have a security patrol and high fences within a gated community, but they still lurk in wait. I should have known better. I had my manager trying to find out who took this latest one, but so far nothing.”

I fucking hated those people for stalking her. “It was my home. I should have defended ye better. I should have shaken off that tail from the airport better.”

She stopped dead. “No. You didn’t have to do anything. I’m not your problem. All I did was give you a headache, a damaged car, and a false accusation.”

Vindication rippled through me, though it dissipated fast. My whole argument, my proof that exonerated me. She didn’t need it.

She believed me.

I’d needed to hear that so badly.

I also had to double down on my urge to wrap her up and put her in my pocket.

We walked on in silence. Around us, drunk and drugged-up idiots danced, kissed, and played around. Max and Elise’s friend stopped at a stall to buy food. I was right at the age where I should be enjoying this. But it wasn’t my scene. My mood was in a strange place.

“You didn’t accept my money.” Elise watched the ground at her feet.

My laugh came out in a bark. “Thirty grand, ye sent. Thirty grand to replace a couple of windows.”

“I looked up the price of the car. A full replacement, I mean. I’d done so much damage.”

Despite myself, amusement grew. “Ye barely dented it. After the glass was changed out, it was as good as new. So aye, I refused the money.”

“I donated it to a women’s refuge. A domestic abuse charity,” she mumbled.

There was too much I wanted to say, beyond the basics she’d felt the need to cover. Far too much I wanted to get into with this lass’s mindset. I couldn’t suppress my instinctive need to help her.

But I wasn’t the person for the job. I’d tried and I’d been scalded.

With exacting and painful difficulty, I forced my damn mouth closed.

Our friends caught up, and we continued in silence. Soon enough, we arrived at another gate.

“I’m glad I got to see you again,” Elise said quietly.

I was, too. But for the sake of my sanity, I couldn’t tell her that.

“The beard suits you. You’re beautiful.” She winced at her own words. “I mean handsome. Rugged. Masculine.”

Her friend joined her, and Max arrived at my side.

Beautiful? She thought me attractive? Ah fuck, but that hurt my heart.

I had to walk away.

With force, I muttered my goodnight then made my feet move in the opposite direction. Leaving Elise in my wake.