Page 62 of Hunt Me

He was dead silent on the drive home, but this time, instead of sleeping, he kept his gaze fixed out the window. I thought maybe being back here would allow him some space to relax, but it seems to be doing the opposite.

I reach for him, and he steps out of my grasp, shaking his head.

“I can’t breathe,” he says, his voice rasping and hoarse.

Before I can offer to help him, he pushes past me, shoving the front door open and rushing through before I can stop him. I follow as quickly as I can and find him in the living room with his head leaning against the far wall beside the window thatoverlooks the front porch. His eyes are closed, and his breathing is labored.

I’m unsure what to do in this moment, so I wait until his eyes flicker open and he stares off into the distance.

“Leaf,” he rasps.

I continue to stare, and he darts his eyes toward me.

‘I want see Leaf and Thorne.’

My brows fly up. ‘Why?’

Denver grimaces and shrugs. ‘Leaf is my friend, and Thorne was there the first time all of this happened. I want to talk to him.’

I feel a pulse of hesitation in my chest. As a rule, unless they’re on my father’s payroll, we do not involve law enforcement. And right now, I’m pretty sure Percy will kill both me and Denver for violating that rule, especially when we’re so close to getting out.

But Denver seems to read my hesitation correctly, and he takes a step closer, setting his hand on my arm. ‘Thorne won’t say anything. I promise. I won’t tell him you’re involved. I just want to know if he can help find who this is.’

Biting my lip, I let myself think it over because it’s not the worst idea in the world. It’s the first lead in this whole mess, and if Thorne knows where to find this first stalker, then it’ll give us the chance to verify if it’s the same person or if this is something entirely new.

‘Okay,’ I say. ‘I know where.’

Denver’s face softens. ‘Thank you.’

I lead him back to the front door again, and we step off the porch, our hands brushing as we reach the stone path. A tingle moves through my skin, and I wonder if I should hold his hand.

Does he want that? I’m not sure.

I don’t want to be wrong. I don’t think I could handle any kind of rejection right now.

He shifts closer to me as we take the small trail between properties, like he wants my reassurance but can’t ask for it, and eventually, I give in and take his hand. He offers me a smile that makes all my nerves settle, and I bring his wrist up to my lips, kissing his warm skin before letting our hands hang between us. The moment is softer than I’m used to and quiet just the way I like.

It’s yet another way that Denver feels so fucking perfect and one more reason that no matter what, I can’t let him go.

The walk is long. There’s half a mile between each house, but I don’t mind it. The sun is low in the sky, and the breeze is cool, and Denver doesn’t seem to be in pain the way he was before. The outdoors seem almost healing, and I understand that better than most people. When I’m at my worst, a nap over a few old graves brings me comfort in ways that nothing else does.

And if I can give this to him, I will. No questions. No hesitations.

Denver tugs on my wrist and points. ‘That one.’

I wrinkle one side of my nose. ‘Yes.’

‘You met your neighbors?’

My lips quirk, and I shrug. ‘No. But I’ve seen them.’ Well, I’d seen their properties, and we did a cursory check about who lived there, but it seems like we missed the man who worked for the FBI, which is something I’ll have to talk to Percy about.

Denver lifts a brow. ‘Do they know you’ve seen them?’

‘No.’

Denver bursts into a soft laugh and squeezes my hand. I like that he’s laughing for me. A real one. I’m not good at making people happy. Most of the time, I get it wrong and fuck it up. I’m too much most of the time. Too scary, too obsessive, too divorced from the morals of polite society. But his laugh, and the occasional small quirk of his mouth, makes me feel like I’m not messing up.

As we come up the path, the door to the house suddenly opens, and I see a man in capri pants and an extra-large shirt burst out. His hair is wild, and his movements are a little clumsy.