Bait: A dark erotic thriller (Hunter & Prey Book 2) (19 page)

Donning my wool hat and scarf, I got out of the car, shivering until I’d managed to zip up my parka. I had no idea which one was the cabin I was looking for, but rather than ask, I decided to do a trial and error run. The woman from the phone had mentioned the lakefront, and there couldn’t be all that many cabins there.

I was wrong—but with only three choices, it wasn’t that hard to find the right one, particularly as I started at the one farthest from the road. The light snow fall from earlier was getting heavier now, obscuring everything that was more than a few feet away, but I considered that a blessing.

The lights were off in that cabin, but right by the back porch I found a sign, reading “Sunshine Cabin.” Backtracking, I tried the middle one next, finding a similar sign with “Moonshine” there. Perfect.
 

There were tracks in the snow leading away from the cabin, making me guess that the cleaning personnel had been here recently, to fluff the pillows, or whatever. A quick glance into what looked like the living room revealed a pristine space, with not a fiber out of place. Had I actually arrived ahead of them? Or had they taken up Elaine on her offer with the luggage room? The website had had details about a spa in the main lodge; that was likely where they were right now.

What to do now? Waiting outside wasn’t an option—even in my winter gear I would freeze within the hour, and there was no guessing when they would actually make it into the room. If there was even more than one guest here, that was. If they were in the spa, I could try tracking Daliah down there, but I didn’t like that idea. Too exposed, and nothing kept Daliah from having me kicked out. As much as I didn’t mind other people’s scorn at finding out who I was, if I could avoid such an altercation, I would. Sneaking inside sounded like the best idea.

As it turned out, that was easier than I’d expected. I’d picked up a few tricks over the past couple of years, but I didn’t even need to look for the cleaning lady and steal her general keycard to get inside. The sliding door at the front porch was closed but not locked, letting me inside surprisingly easily. Surprisingly, unless, of course, someone had deliberately left it like that.

I took care to step out of my shoes rather than drag any snow or water inside with me, brushing them off before I picked them up. From inside, the cabin looked just as pristine as through the windows, confirming my guess that no one had been here yet. I still did a quick search of the premises, also to familiarize myself with the room plan—and find hiding places. There were a few, but none really well-suited.
 

The sound of a “beep” followed by the lock disengaging cut my indecision short, and with the hall cabinet the only space close enough to hide me, I quickly stepped inside, holding my breath as I pulled the shuttered door closed behind me—softly. A moment later, I could see movement in the hallway, followed by the lights coming on. Daliah’s inane laugh made me grit my teeth, but at least her presence answered one question—it wasn’t just Darren luring me into a trap.

“Oh, this is so romantic!” she cooed as she skipped into the main room of the cabin, continuing to remark something about each and every amenity—all of which were rather standard for something of this category. Darren stopped right in front of my cabinet, but through the slits I could see that he didn’t move, or turn to me. I still held my breath, hoping not to give myself away. He waited for the valet to bring in the remainder of their things, then closed the door and followed Daliah into the main room. I heard her skip on into the bathroom, then return when Darren chided her about not taking off her boots.

“It’s so great here,” she enthused as she dutifully slid her dainty little feet out of the fur-covered atrocities on her feet—and stopped for a moment, close enough to me that had I opened the cabinet door, it would have smacked her right in the face. For a second, I was afraid she’d somehow seen me, but then she just let her shoes drop and hung up her coat, before she turned back to Darren. “We should christen every room. And I think we should start right about here.” And wouldn’t you know it, he seemed ecstatic to oblige her.

Just great. Not only was I stuck in a closet. No, it had to be the closet right in front of which they were about to get it on. The only positive aspect to that was that they soon created enough noise with their panting and moaning so I could breathe easily. Theoretically.

A greater woman might have just closed her eyes. I, of course, always the glutton for punishment, had to watch. So I watched as he pushed her up against the wall. I watched as she wrapped her arms around him and gasped a breathy, “Make love to me!” against his neck. That made him laugh—and me want to snarl—but the way he pushed her dress up and ripped her panties off looked a lot more like fucking, really. And they weren’t white cotton, either, but still. Then he thrust into her and she became nothing more than a somewhat too large bouncy toy against the wall. Soft core 80s porn was more erotic than this. How he could even get it up was a miracle. Then again, my mind provided an idea what thoughts actually might keep him going, and that wasn’t anything I wanted to think about right now. I might hate her—and I did, with all of my heart, as I had to watch and listen to her come—but I preferred her to remain very much alive.

Finally, the freak show was over, leaving her grinning as she plucked her dress back into place while he put his dick away. He made a move as if to keep her from covering herself up, but she shook her head.

“I’m getting kind of hungry. Would you mind hopping over to the lodge and getting us something to eat?”

I could only see parts of Darren’s face, but that was enough to catch a hint of scorn. Oh, playing fetch wasn’t what he’d had in mind.

“I can call room service, if you like,” he proposed.

“But that will take forever,” she whined—actually whined, like a little girl. Would she stomp her feet next? “They’ll get it all prepared right away if you’re ordering personally. And it won’t be left to cool until someone can be bothered to bring it over. Pretty please? I’ll make it up to you later, promise.”

That I doubted, but for whatever reason, he was happy to oblige her.

“For you, my sweet little flower, anything.”

That line made every hair on my body stand on end, but I felt myself relax as they kissed one last time and he shrugged his coat back on. Then he was gone, leaving Daliah behind where she still leaned against the hallway wall, looking at the now closed door. That was, until her head snapped around and she stared right at me, making me hold my breath again.

“You can come out now, whore. Did you really think I didn’t notice you there?” she said, all that simpering gone from her voice now.

Busted.

I considered playing dumb, but then decided that I wouldn’t let her gain the upper hand just like that. So I vacated my hiding spot as if I had every reason to be there and stepped out into the hall, coming face to face with her. I was sure that I hadn’t made a sound during their rutting around, so she’d probably noticed me before.

“What gave me away?” I asked cooly, pretending like I didn’t care.

Her slight smile widened, but it wasn’t very pleasant. “Your whore scent.”

“Excuse me?”

She rolled her eyes. “That perfume you wear. It’s cloying. I caught a whiff the moment I entered, and you’ve been around me often enough that it was rather easy to place it. What an amateurish mistake.”

I certainly didn’t care for her change in manners. Those were sentences that could have come from Darren himself. Was she just imitating him? Or had I completely misjudged the situation and she was actually in league with him? Far-fetched as that was, she was a nursing student who had a certain medical knowledge. And who knew what he had confessed to her in pain-medicine induced delirium? That she was his student and he her mentor rather than an actual couple would have made so much more sense.

Yet there was still that pissed-off yet gullible look in her eyes, the opposite of murderous. No, this couldn’t be it. Besides, I doubted Darren would have accepted anyone at his side who wasn’t at least as brilliant as he thought of himself—and Daliah was a long shot from that, even if she could literally sniff me out.

“I’ll make sure that I’ll change it next time,” I said, waiting for how she would react to that.

Her gaze hardened, as did her jawline as her teeth snapped together. “There won’t be a next time. If I haven’t made myself clear yet, let me do this now. Darren belongs to me. And if you ever try to get between us again, I will make sure that you can’t, ever again.”

“Is that a threat?” I asked, pitching my voice to sound as taunting as possible.

“It is.”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” I enthused. “What will you do? Throw a hissy fit? Tell everyone who wants to know that I’m a prostitute? I really don’t give a fuck, if you haven’t noticed yet.” That hadn’t always been the case. Back when Darren and I had become serious, and I hadn’t yet understood the very nature of our relationship, I’d been awfully self-conscious about my former profession. But somewhen between being tied to that chair in his basement and running for my life, that concern had completely evaporated.

I expected many things to happen, but not that Daliah would slap me. But slap me she did, and I had to hand it to her, the girl didn’t punch like a girl. The force of the impact snapped my head to the side, making my ears ring, and I would have staggered if I’d worn heels. With my bare toes digging into the lush carpet, I managed to retain my footing, but for a moment I was a little unbalanced. She used that to come after me with her entire weight, slamming me physically into the cabinet door behind me. The back of my head connected painfully with the wood, making me see stars for a moment. Yet already, self-preservation kicked in, making my arms come up and keep her from slamming right into me.

Rather than try to punch her myself, I grabbed her dress at the shoulders and pulled, making her body whip around, her shoulder slamming into the bathroom door. It opened, causing her to stagger backward into the room, and as I didn’t let go, she pulled me along. Daliah tried to catch herself against the marble sink, but I used the same move on her again, slamming her against the side of the shower stall instead. She flailed for a moment, but then kicked out, making me lose my footing just as she went down, too. Some scrambling followed, but the few extra pounds that I had on her helped me end up on top. Her hands clawed for my face, raking painfully against my neck. Mostly to stop her, I grabbed her hair and slammed her head down into the floor. She gasped but didn’t stop, one finger raking my cheek and coming dangerously close to my left eye. So I slammed her head a second time, and a third when she still didn’t stop. And again. And again, because that bitch really had it coming. All that frustration and fear of the past months rose up inside of me, raging through me like a tsunami, until—

I knew instantly that last slam was too hard when I heard something give with a sickening crunch—and Daliah went slack.

Panting heavily, I stared down at her limp body underneath me, the harsh fluorescent light reflected in her wide eyes. A pool of blood was starting to spread underneath her, but my mind remained frozen for another second, unable to process what had just happened. Then my thoughts caught up, and it was fear that made it impossible for me to react, but it was obvious that checking for a pulse wouldn’t be necessary anymore.

It was the sound of Darren’s voice coming from behind me that finally tore me out of my stupor. I looked up at him where he casually leaned against the doorjamb, smiling at me.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, Penelope.”

His words made me jerk back and scramble off Daliah’s dead body, until my back hit the opposite wall. Rationally, I knew that what I should have been afraid of was the monster lurking in the room with me, but it was terror of what I had done that stole my breath and made my heart try to wrench itself out of my chest.

That, and the realization that probably for the first time in my life, I hadn’t disappointed Darren Hunter, but had actually made him proud.

This couldn’t be happening.

But it was, same as that pool of blood kept spreading, soaking into the fabric of Daliah’s dress and turning her blonde tresses dark. Head wounds bleed like a bitch, and clearly, that counted double for fatal ones.

Darren remained where he was for a moment, his eyes trained on me, before he pushed himself off the wall and walked into the room, only to kneel down next to Daliah. He briefly checked for a pulse, using practiced, casual motions. There was none, of course, because I’d killed her.

Then he turned his head and regarded me levelly, but he was still smiling faintly.

“First time’s always the hardest to get over. Don’t worry, you’ll do better soon enough. And you even have the good fortune of finding yourself in the company of someone who knows a thing or two about disposing of bodies.”

Well, la di da, wasn’t I a lucky girl?

It took me two tries to make my vocal cords work again, and when I finally managed to say something, it sounded little better than a croak.

“You planned this. You fucking set me up to do this.”

Darren shrugged, just as if I’d accused him of having a tissue ready for blowing my nose.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d have the balls for it, but the thought might have occurred to me, yes. You are the kind of woman who takes out her competition rather than suffers her to live, so it was just a matter of careful planning to let action follow intent.”

I couldn’t believe that he was saying that—but then again, he would.

“It was an accident,” I murmured, my gaze drawn back to Daliah’s body. “I never—“ I swallowed thickly. “You can’t think that I’d—“

“Oh, I always knew that you could,” he assured me. “It was more a matter of wondering if you would. Of course, I likely have dear Daliah to thank for that. All those weeks spent fuming in helpless frustration must have sent her over the edge. What a shame.”

That he was taunting the dead girl now was just the icing on the cake, but his calm was infectious. Either that, or my mind had finally cracked—but I doubted that. If I’d managed to stay sane during my ordeal in the basement, this wouldn’t break me. Or at the very least not in this way.