The Hunter

Page 98

“So you don’t know? You two haven’t spoken?”

I shook my head. She thought he’d kept her secret.

“He was great.” She flipped her shiny hair to one shoulder, still walking. “I might see him today for dinner after I’m done whooping your ass. We’ll see. The Patriots’ quarterback also wants a date. It’s hard being me.”

“I can imagine,” I said.

She picked up the bandana, went back to her spot, and tied it over her eyes. Raising her bow, she aimed at me. My heart was in my throat. I wanted to move away, to punch my own face for what I’d gotten myself into. Lana’s hands were steady, but her chest rose and fell quickly.

“You idiot. You know I’ll do it,” she muttered, seeing nothing behind the blindfold.

“Then do.” I swallowed. “Kill me like I killed Spot.”

“Don’t say his name,” she warned. “Don’t you dare.”

“It was an accident,” I repeated. “A terrible accident I’ve regretted every moment since that day.”

“I know!” she snapped, lowering her bow momentarily, stomping. “It wasn’t just about Spot, you idiot. It was about everything. You had parents and a family and talent and security. And you were easy prey. So insecure and apologetic and…and…” She waved her hand in my direction. “You.”

She raised her bow again, huffing, “Now stand still.”

I did. Sweat dripped down my spine under my sweater, and I felt my legs shaking. I wanted to throw up. She drew the arrow again. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

Do it. Get it out of your system before it is my turn to hurt you back.

“Drop out of the match, and I won’t kill you,” came her voice.

My eyes popped open.

“That’s a big request,” I said hoarsely.

“You are my target,” she pointed out.

“Because I put myself here willingly,” I argued. “Will all be forgiven and forgotten if I step down and don’t show up in half an hour?”

She didn’t know I was wired under my sweater.

That she was being recorded.

“Yes,” she said grimly. “But you need to tell them now.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Okay.” She lowered her bow again, removing the blindfold and discarding it on the ground. Her eyes, dead and flat, scanned me.

“Just so you know…” Her throaty voice wrapped around my neck. “Hunter was everything the media said he was, and more. I had a lot of fun stealing your boyfriend. I wish we could continue this. I’d have loved to torture you for a lifetime.”

I stepped away, knowing now how deep and delusional her lie was. “I know.”

I turned around to find Junsu in the shadows, under the roofed seats, scowling. I brushed past him, not stopping when he whispered my name.

He used to shout it before. Now, he was scared.

He knew.


Junsu was at my heels. Now that I’d decided not to compete, he pretended to be invested. Devastated, even. He spoke, but none of the things he said registered. I unlocked my car, stuffing my bag into the passenger seat.

Junsu grabbed my shoulder and spun me so I faced him, his expression etched with fury.

“What was that?” he demanded.

“I’m guessing that’s a rhetorical question.” I brushed off his touch.

That was it. I’d lost. My Olympic dream officially went down the drain. Hell, I’d flushed it myself. Somewhere in the back of my head, panic had begun to set in. I knew it was the last time I’d set foot in this club. After everything that happened—everything that was about to happen—I couldn’t come back and practice here. Not professionally, and not as a hobby. I imagined I’d find a new place, or maybe go to the woods or to the farmhouse my parents had outside of Boston. I would still practice, but not professionally.

It was time to find out who I was.

What I was good at, what I stood for.

It was time to get out of my shell and live. And it’s frightening.

“You didn’t even try. You quit.” He motioned his arm toward the club.

“So?” I shrugged. “My career. My dream. My prerogative.”

“My reputation,” he countered, shoving a finger to his chest. “You could lose by few points. Now I look incompetent.”

“Ah.” I smiled. “Cat’s out of the bag now. So you did want me to lose, just not by much.”

Junsu’s face fell. “What? No! I…”

I leaned forward, brushing my lip over his nose purposefully. I felt goosebumps rise on his skin. We’d never been this close physically. “I know what you did, Junsu. You and Lana. I know about your deal. Lana came clean to Hunter when she tried to seduce him in your office. You did this to yourself. Now I have a witness, and a three-page letter I left with each of the four judges on the committee. They’re going to find them shortly, if they haven’t already. An identical letter was sent to the United States’ Olympic and Paralympic Committees. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m on my way to the police station. Hunter Fitzpatrick, AKA the boy, already gave them his official statement, as per my request.”

I bowed, the way he’d taught me when he started training me, mocking the sign of respect he’d insisted we give each other.

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