Luca (Hunting Her) - Eden Summers Page 0,44

for weeks?

I want her. I’m obsessed with her.

But that ship is never going to sail.

Never. Going to. Sail.

I need to remember that. Fucking tattoo it on my wrist.

I snatch at the beer the waitress places before me and knock it back in one long pull before slamming it down. “Let’s get out of here?”

The blonde’s face lights up. “Perfect.”

I stand, grab my wallet from my jacket pocket, and throw a few bills to the table. Once I get my rocks off I’ll be fine. A new fucking man.

The isolation has been killing me. Messing with my head. I’d be bat shit over any woman I’d been trapped with for that long. Anyone would.

And lord knows it doesn’t help that Penny is so easy to be around. Or that she’s admirably strong. Or so fucking gorgeous.

Being stuck in that house was a ticking time bomb, the impending explosion even more catastrophic after Decker returned home.

Nothing good could come from succumbing to my libido.

Penny doesn’t need the confusion. And I don’t need to be riddled with bullets by her brother.

Fucking Rebecca is a win–win.

It just feels like a loss, that’s all.

I trudge from the bar and head for my car parked out the front. The tap of heels behind me is far from a turn-on. Doesn’t matter though. I’m still haunted by the residual hard-on I’ve been carrying for weeks.

There ain’t nothin’ going to break my cock’s enthusiasm.

“Slow down, honey,” the woman purrs. “I can’t walk that fast.”

I pause a few feet from my vehicle as my cell vibrates from my jacket pocket like a sign to abort this mission. I pull out the device and stare at Hunt’s name on the screen.

I shouldn’t answer. He’s the type to call just for the sake of interrupting a fuck session. I wouldn’t be surprised if his sole purpose was to laugh at my expense.

But Penny…

If something is wrong I can’t ignore it.

“I need to take this.” I glance at my soon-to-be bed buddy and take a few steps away. “I won’t be long.”

“Sure thing.”

I connect the call, turning my back to her as I bark, “What?”

“We’ve got a problem,” Hunt mutters. “A big one.”

I keep walking, making sure I’m out of hearing distance. “What sort of problem?”

“Your bitch stole my Chevy.”

“Very funny.” I remotely unlock my car, letting the woman climb in. “What do you want, Hunt?”

“I’m serious. She snatched my keys from the kitchen counter and took off in my fucking car. I don’t know where she is.”

I hold my breath, waiting for the punchline. There’s gotta be a fucking punchline, because if there isn’t—

“Luca?” he snaps. “Are you listening to me?”

“You better be fucking joking.” I clench my cell. “Either way, I’m going to kick your ass for—”

“I’m not goddamn joking, you stupid son of a bitch. She lost her shit and took off. You need to get back here. Now.”

The line disconnects; my mental function, too.

It takes seconds for me to snap out of the shock, then I’m running for my car, skirting the hood to fling open the driver’s door.

“You need to get out.” I slide into my seat and start the ignition. “Now.”

“Excuse me?” The blonde stares at me, unmoving. “What’s going on?”

“You need to get the fuck out of my car,” I snarl. “Now.”

She balks, her face growing pale as I rev the engine.

“Now,” I roar.

She scrambles, frantically unfastening her belt to climb out and slam the door shut. “You’re a dick.” She speaks into the closed passenger window. “I hope you—”

I shift into gear, pulling the fuck out of there.

Buildings and traffic blur as I drive.

I cut corners, overtake on busy streets, and swerve in and out of traffic. I don’t dare to think about what could be happening to Penny until I speed into my driveway, slam on the brakes and launch from the car.

“What the fuck?” I storm toward Hunter and Sarah on the front lawn, the moon’s glow illuminating Sarah’s concern and Hunt’s livid anger. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do shit. She was fine.” He squares his shoulders as I approach. “One minute she’s in her room, the next the fucking klepto is stealing my keys.”

“Who else have you called? Which way did she go? Have you checked your car’s GPS?” I bark questions at him, my palms sweating.

He raises a brow, his look condescending. “You think I’d have any sort of tracking device on my Chevy with the shit I do on the daily?”

“Fuck.” I pace. “Then what have you done?

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