Moments of Malevolence (The Hunters Book 1)

HA, take that, bitch.

Hands wrap around me as heat licks my face. They are careful not to touch my stomach as they lift me.

“Put me down,” I shout.

“Fuck! Are you trying to get us locked up? You’re fucking crazy.” I laugh at Kyson’s words and smile as I look back to the house.

Zuko’s house.

Which is now up in flames.

That’s what he gets.

I didn’t give him permission to take matters into his own hands and go crazy on someone.

Granted, she deserved it, but still.

I wanted to deal with it myself.

I didn’t ask him to go all macho and handle my stuff. I’m a strong, independent woman and can do that shit by myself, thank you very much.

“Put me down,” I tell Kyson again as we reach his car.

“No. Get the fuck in the car. I don’t want to be locked up today.” He places me in the back seat of the car as the sirens get closer. “You better not fucking run again,” he warns. I smile at him, and he shakes his head as he gets into the front seat and starts the engine. As soon as he is about to take off, I jump out of the car.

That was a really stupid mistake.

Because it burns.

A lot.

Fucking hell! I wince and glance back at Kyson. He gives me a murderous glare before he drives off.

I sit on the grass in front of the house as I watch it burn. Firefighters rush to put the flames out as neighbors come to see what’s happening. One person asks me if I’m okay, and I look down to see my shirt has blood on it. Great. Lifting my head, I watch as the fire is put out, but everything inside is burned.

Ha, take that asshole.

“Are you enjoying the show?” I stiffen as Zuko stops in front of me, his hands hanging loosely at his sides and sunglasses covering his eyes.

“Yes, very much so.” I give him a smug smile.

“You set my house on fire,” he states.

“Look at you, Captain Obvious.” I laugh, and it hurts when I do. Fuck this stomach wound.

He bends down, so we are eye-to-eye. “Why?”

“I warned you time and time again. It’s not my fault you chose not to listen.” I shrug. He lifts his sunglasses so I can see his eyes. They stare back at me, and I have to remember to breathe.

“Fair point,” he replies.

“What did you do to her?” I ask. “You better not have killed her. Because if you did, I’m going to do much worse next.”

Zuko fights a smirk before he shakes his head and scoffs. “What do you plan to do, Trouble?”

“I’ll find something else you love to set on fire,” I snap. “Why are you smirking?”

“Because that’s funny. I’ve never loved anything in this life.”

I’m shocked at his words, so I cover it and point to the house. “You didn’t love your house?”

“Nope. If you noticed, there was nothing personal in there. Though I am disappointed, I have to shop again…for everything. I fucking hate shopping, especially for clothes.”

“I love shopping for clothes,” I mention as two police officers approach us.

Zuko stands, and they ask him what happened. He lies and says he was asleep and left a candle too close to a curtain, that it was too late by the time he woke, and that he barely made it outside, then he heard sirens.

I sit there as he tells a perfectly crafted lie.

The officers stare down at me for a moment, and then their attention turns back to Zuko.

“So, accidental?” they ask.

“Yep. No insurance would accept this. So I guess I’ll just have to rebuild myself.” They nod, happy with that, then write down a few particulars on their notepads.

“That will go into the report. So if you change your mind, the insurance company will see this,” one of them says.

“I get that,” he states, his tone bored and unconcerned. They seem taken aback by him. Both are standing a distance away from him, and they give him a nod before they turn and step off.

“Do I need to carry you, or can you walk?” Zuko asks, looming above me. I roll my eyes and stand. I try my best not to show any pain when I stand, but I must admit I am walking a little funny.

“You didn’t answer me,” I tell him as he holds open the car door. “Where did Louise’s car go?” I ask, scanning the area.

“I had it taken back to her. Nice job evading my brother, by the way. He is fucking pissed.”

I smile. “It was fun.”

Zuko shuts the door and strolls around to the driver’s side, then slides in. Starting the car, he drives off.

“Now, tell me what you did. Is she at least still alive?”

He nods to the glove compartment, and I eye it suspiciously.

“Open it.” I do as he says and see a black rag, so I pull it out, and as I do, something drops in my lap. When I check between my legs, I see a pale object. When I grab it, it feels squishy. Inspecting it closer, I scream and shift back in the seat, trying to escape the obvious and letting it drop back between my legs.

I try to climb away from it, and Zuko swears before he pulls the car over, slamming on the brakes and reaching for the finger. A fucking finger! He wraps it back in the rag and places it back in the glove compartment before he turns to me.

“Calm down. You’ll hurt yourself.”

I take a deep breath and manage to sit my ass back down. “That was a finger,” I state, my eyes wide.

“It was,” he confirms unnecessarily.

“It was Sarah’s?”

He nods.

“And where is the rest of Sarah?”

He repositions himself behind the wheel and pulls back out onto the road. “Still breathing. For now.”

“Where is she?” I ask again.

“Probably cleaning up her hand. She does bleed a lot.”

“Why did you cut her finger off?”

He gives me a side-eye. “Why did she stab you?” he asks, raising a brow.

“Because she’s crazy,” I reply. “Doesn’t mean I want her dead.”

“I do,” he answers. Then, with more force, he adds, “For touching you, she deserves what she gets. And more.”

“You are not to kill her. Do you understand?”

He clenches his jaw. Eyes still trained on the road. “No one tells me what to do. That is one of the joys of being me.”

“Stop the car,” I demand.

He ignores me and keeps on driving.

“Stop the car, Zuko. If you think you can do what you please in my life, and I don’t have a say about it, you are dead wrong. So stop the fucking car, and I will walk.” I see his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter as he turns the steering wheel, and we pull up to a house.

Kyson comes out the front door, and when he spots me sitting in the car, he shakes his head. Zuko gets out and storms up to him, and in one swift movement, he knocks him straight out. Kyson falls backward and hits the ground. Hard. Zuko turns and walks back to the car. Not saying a word, he starts it again and tears out of the driveway.

“You just hit your brother,” I say, appalled.

“Yes. He had one job, and he failed multiple times.” He flexes his fingers, working his knuckles. “He’s lucky he is still breathing.”

He speeds down the streets until we come to a strip of shops. He pulls into a parking spot and turns to look at me. “You like to shop, so you can help me.”

“Ha!” I roll my eyes. “Do you pick and choose what you want to listen to?”

“Oh, I listen to you. It’s hard for me not to, even when I don’t want to.” He gets out of the car, walks around to my side, and opens the door. “She’s alive, and she will stay that way as long as she stays away from you. How is that for listening,” he says emphasizing the word and offering me his hand.

“You are a real ass,” I tell him.

“I already knew that, and so did you. So let’s shop.” I take his offered hand and get out. He clasps my hand in his and starts walking to the shops. He heads straight for the men’s store and looks at everything. I can see the pain on his face, and I want to laugh. A big scary man afraid of shopping. How cliché.

“How can I help you today?” a sales assistant asks. He didn’t just walk into your average Target. No, he stepped into a designer store. I’m not even sure he knows that, but he will once he pays.

“She’s picking my clothes.”

The woman glances at me and smiles.

“Anything in particular? Shirts? A hat, perhaps?” she inquires.

“Everything. I need everything.” He sighs.

The sales assistant’s eyes light up. It will be a nice bonus for her today. She offers us a glass of champagne. I take one and, before it hits my lips, he swipes it from me and hands it back. “She will have orange juice.”

The sales lady’s eyes flick between Zuko and me, and then she quietly retreats to get my juice.

“Why did you do that?” I park my hands on my hips.

“You are on medication that can’t be mixed with alcohol,” he states.

Oh, yeah, I forgot about that.

“You aren’t the boss of me,” I tell him. “In fact, I don’t like you at all.”

“Liar,” he says, his voice low and sexy, as the sales lady brings out a glass of orange juice. I take it from her and drink it before I sit down. Zuko sits next to me as she displays all the clothes in front of us. I’m too in tune with how close he is to fully concentrate.

She asks him if he would like any color other than black, to which he replies with a simple, “No.” She says something else, but it all jumbles together as his hand lands on my thigh and squeezes. My eyes are glued to his hand.

“Trouble.” I look up at him through my eyelashes and see a soft smile on his lips.

“It’s the medication,” I explain. His lips fight a smirk as his eyes search mine.

“I’m sure it is. Now, do you want anything?”

When I look away from him, I see the lady smiling at me, waiting for me to answer.

“I—” Before I can even finish, she brings two things out from behind her—black boots that are snug on the ankle and a matching bag—and a huge grin lights up my face.

“We’ll take them as well. Bag it all up, please.” Her expression shows how happy she is. I’m not sure Zuko will be once he knows the price tag on those boots, or that bag, for that matter.

But will he care? a small part of me asks.

“Trouble.” He grips my thigh and places a finger under my chin, turning my head, so I’m facing him. I grind my molars as my eyes slowly lift to meet his. “I really like you, Trouble.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” I taunt as I feel my cheeks redden.

“No, in fact, I don’t. There was one girl who was close.”

“Who?” I ask as his fingers stroke my jaw.

“You wouldn’t know her.” He stands, his fingers falling away from my face, then offers me his hand to help me up.

“Do you still talk to her?”

“Why? If I said yes, would you attempt to burn something else down?”

“What do you have left?” I ask sassily as we head to the counter.

“I’m afraid to tell you.” He smirks.

I nudge his shoulder with mine as we reach the counter. “Come on…tell me.”

He locks his gaze on mine as the sales lady rings up the items. When she says the total, he hands her his black card without even glancing her way, his eyes solely on me.

“The only thing that would affect me, as you have seen, is you getting hurt.” At first, I want to smile at that, but then I remember how he likes to fuck. My mouth drops into a frown, and he notices straight away.

“What?” he asks.

Raising a brow at him, I tell him what’s in my thoughts.

“What about the bag?” I don’t want to freak the lady out by asking about the knife, but I’m sure he gets it.

“If that really does bother you as much as you say it does, I won’t do it again.”

Zuko picks up the bags, and we leave the shop.

“That’s not fair to you; it’s clearly your kink.”

“Why wouldn’t it be fair to me?”

We get to the car, and he puts all the bags in the back before he comes and opens my door.

“We aren’t a thing. You get that, right?” I stand in the space between the door and the seat, and he steps closer until he is almost touching me. But he’s careful not to.

“We aren’t?” He raises a brow in question.

“No, we are not. To be a thing, two people have to agree.”

“I agree for both of us,” he informs me, not even joking.

“Ha!” I give him an unimpressed look and get in the car. He shuts my door, rounds the hood, and climbs in. “Where are we going?” I ask.

“Home,” he informs me as he starts the car.

“Just in case you’ve forgotten, you don’t have a home anymore.” I can’t help but say it with a smile.

“Oh, I know. I have a new one.”

“Already?” I reply, surprised.

“Yes, and we should be arriving soon.” I’m amazed he is even going to take me there, especially after what I did. But when we pull down a familiar street, I turn to face him.

“This isn’t the way.” I stare out the window as my apartment comes into view. “Oh God, did you buy one on my block?”

“Nope.” He brings the car to a stop and then turns to me.

“Why are we here?” I’m afraid of the answer.

“Because I’m moving in. Now, do you need help getting out of the car?” he asks casually, and I can’t seem to pick my jaw up to close my mouth.