The next few days go by with no incidents, subtle glances and light touches as we pass each other. But I’ve tried to keep my distance. As for Hunter, I think he’s giving me the cold shoulder. This is fine, but boring. I walk down the hall. He exits the kitchen and bumps into me, if I didn’t know any better I’d think it was on purpose.

“Fuck you,” I say, not in the mood for his bullshit. He shoots back “fuck you” and steps in front of me, his back broad and his ass waiting to be smacked.

“Oh god, that was good.” I moan out my sexual frustration.

He looks over his shoulder, “What was good?” I lean in closer and he turns to face me. “Didn’t we just have hallway sex?” I ask, giggling under my breath. He leans in backing me against the wall.

“When we do, there will be no question about it.” I burst out into a laughing fit and he walks away. “Well at least we’re talking again.” I say and enter the exercise room. With all this pent up tension I need to burn some calories.

First, I hop on the treadmill and run for twenty minutes, and then I move to the rowing machine. I finish a thirty minute session and feel a little dehydrated as the sweat soaks into my sports bra. “Here, you should drink,” Hunter stands at the door holding a small towel and water bottle for me to take. “Thanks, I was going to grab one.”

My arm stretches over my head and I crack my neck. I take the bottle and twist open the cap chugging half of it. Then I wipe the sweat from my forehead. I step over to the punching bag and start my krav maga kicks and punches.

“You do a mean workout.” Hunter says as he sits on the stationary bike. “I do alright. Something has to keep me looking this good.” His eyes roam my curves and he smiles.  “What?” I question.

“Let me see the ink?” Ah, he must have noticed my tattoos. I wonder if he’ll know what they stand for. No one else ever gets it or even bothers to ask for that matter.

I turn and lower my shorts just enough to expose the entire tattoo. His finger grazes along my hip and across my spine. First he outlines the mustang. On the horse’s forehead is V-8 and in his tail is the number sixty-seven. Below the galloping horse in script is Born to Run.

“Tramp stamp?” he says. “Well you know; tramps like us. Baby, we were born to run.” His smile grows wider. He recognizes the lyrics from none other than Bruce Springsteen’s Born to Run.

“Your baby and boss all in one.” His fingers leave my skin and goose bumps form. “You know it.” He gets it, it’s not hard to figure out, unless you know me. But not only does he get it, he likes it.

Other guys never care to even mention or question my ink. He took the time to examine, touch and figure out all the details and meaning. I’m impressed and touched by the sentiment.

I turn around and face the bike, but before I can do anything glass shatters behind me.

I lurch forward, and push Hunter down and cover his body with mine. The sting in my back tells me I’m hit, and now I’m pissed off.

“What the fuck?” he says trying to push me off.

“Stay the fuck down and shut up.” I look over my shoulder and the window is gone, broken on the floor. Shards of glass stick out from the frame. By the sting in my back I’d bet one if not more are sticking out of me as well.

A motorcycle engine starts and I jump to my feet. Without a thought I approach the broken window, tuck my arms in front and jump through. My feet hit the grass below, my knees give way and I roll to the ground. The stab and burn run down my side. Without delay, I push up and run down the driveway.

When I reach the edge I see a small frame of a person, has to be a woman. She’s wearing a black and yellow helmet. The bike is sleek and damn... a Ducati, there’s no way in hell I’d catch up with it. I pull my cell from my sports bra and call Mark.

”Ducati, black- black and yellow helmet put an APB out, don’t ask just fucking do it.” I yell trying to catch my breath. Pain penetrates down under my shoulder blade. With my hand on my thighs I lean over and inhale a few times. Maybe I did over do my workout. When I walk to the back of the house the screen door bursts open and Mark and Hunter come running over.

Blood drips down my side and I wince from the pain. “Mother fucking, cock sucker. Bitch on wheels, whore from hell. Shit. It burns.” I scream out leaving both men wide eyed and speechless.

I turn around to show them the glass wedged into my skin. Mark radio’s in for an ambulance and begins to search the perimeter. Hunter won’t leave my side. The ambulance pulls in the driveway, as the EMT pulls the small shards he winces. I blow out a breath when they are all done. A few stitches needed and they apply some ointment and give me waterproof wrap and bandages to reapply for the next few days.

Hunter hasn’t said a word. But by the look in his eyes and the way he’s pacing, he’s pissed off and ready to kick someone’s ass. I sign the release form because I refuse to go to the hospital. I have a job to do. Uncle Lenny shows up in street clothes, he nods and we watch him round the house.

“Are you okay?” Hunter stops and takes my hand, “I’m fine, pissed she got away though. Are you okay?” He pulls me into a hug being careful not to touch my right side. When we separate he admits, “I’m little shaken, but not in a scared way. More in an angry way if that makes sense.” His forehead rest against mine and he sighs.

I give him a minute then step back. We walk into the house and straight for the exercise room. The glass is everywhere, my eyes dart from corner to corner and to the side is a brick.

“Do me a favor, run upstairs I have a bag next to the nightstand, grab it for me.” He nods and runs out the door. A few minutes later he appears with Mark by his side. He throws me the bag and I pull out latex gloves. “You alright.” Mark asks, but the look on his face tells me he’s not happy to see my back covered in blood. “Better now.”

With the gloves on I lift the brick, on the side He’s mine you hor in black marker appears as I turn it. I laugh at the statement and both guys look to me puzzled. “Well it looks like we’re dealing with a jealous female, and she’s illiterate to boot.” I place the brick in an evidence bag and text Jessie to bring something to seal the empty hole in the wall.

Mark says he’ll speak to me later. He takes the evidence bag along with our statements and begins to walk to the door. I follow, “What am I missing?” I ask, because I know his look and his look tells me there may be something I don’t know about.

“There was a threat. Two actually.” Mark pulls his phone from his pocket and I glance at the photos while leaning against his car. In the first photo is a picture of Hunter and me sitting at the restaurant the other night. It has a red X through my face.

The other is of us on the sofa. I’m eating popcorn my face straight ahead and Hunter has his eyes focused on me. There is a red X on Hunter. This means we have a security issue. I forward the photos to my phone. I will not let anything happen to him. I swear.

I run into the living room and yank the wires from the walls. Hunter comes in and stops me. “Look I know you’re angry they got away but don’t destroy our house over it.” He says pulling me away from the T.V. “No security, there are pictures of us here. I need everything unplugged all Wi-Fi goes black until further notice.

“Thanks for getting me up to speed. Since Jessie’s on his way I’ll have him clean house and I’ll go back to old school security. Have patrol cars every hour, and I’ll be with him twenty-four seven.” Mark nods and reaches for the handle of the front door. “Stay safe, Dani.” His eyes full of worry is not making me feel any better about the situation.