Quickdraw Slow Burn (Battle of the Bulls #3) - T. S. Joyce Page 0,31

before he comes back for it.”

“Okay.” Quickdraw’s voice was full of confusion, but he grabbed her hand and led her back toward the interview room where people were filing out of. “You found something.”

“Y-yes.”

“What can I do?”

“You can give me Hunter Kaid’s number. We need his help.”

Chapter Nine

Quickdraw gripped the phone tighter.

Nothing had ever made him want to kill a man more than what he saw on that tiny glowing screen.

Annabelle was a clever wolf. A clever, intelligent, quick-thinking wolf. She’d shoved her phone in her back pocket while it was recording video.

The soft lurch of the camera was a lulling thing at first, but then a shadow appeared at the end of the hallway. There was light behind the shifter, so Quickdraw couldn’t make out his features at first, but he knew he was a shifter. The glowing eyes gave him away. And if that hadn’t, his creepy agility would’ve as he zigzagged silently back and forth behind her, quietly stalking her, his cold, unblinking eyes trained on Annabelle. Monster.

His hungry gaze made Quickdraw want to wrap his hands around his throat and choke the life slowly from him.

The man stopped a few feet from the camera and leaned against the wall, head cocked, eyes unblinking on Annabelle. “Are you hunting me?”

Annabelle spun around, and all Quickdraw could see now was the dark hallway behind her. “I’m hunting a bathroom.” Annabelle’s voice rang steady and clear. Brave wolf.

“You walked right past it,” the man, Dante, Annabelle had called him, said.

“So did you.”

“Hmmmm,” Dante murmured. “Go on, little wolf. Go back to where it’s safe.”

“Is anywhere really safe for people like us?” she asked.

“I suppose not.”

“Then you should go back with me,” she said. “Safety in numbers and all.”

There was an empty smile in the man’s voice as he said, “Oh, little wolf, you aren’t safe with me.”

The angle shifted as Annabelle leaned forward and whispered, “Neither are you.”

God, Quickdraw loved that she could handle herself in a scary situation, but what happened next again dredged up his murderous instincts that would not be satisfied until he could see the life fading from Dante’s eyes.

Annabelle turned, and the camera settled on Dante as she walked away. The shifter then did something Quickdraw would never forgive, nor forget. He rushed silently forward, hands up in a choking motion, but then froze. He seemed confused by something and slid to the other side of the hallway, watching her through glowing, narrowed eyes. Then he rushed forward again, his fists clenched. He raised one…but hesitated. He approached her again but stopped himself inches from her back. He squatted silently down and watched her walk away with a calculating expression on his face.

The snarl that twisted that shifter’s lips lifted the fine hairs on the back of Quickdraw’s neck. Not because Quickdraw was scared of him, but because he’d been too close to Annabelle while Quickdraw hadn’t been there to protect her.

The video continued, and the man locked eyes on the camera. His smile turned into a snarl, but then he unclenched his fist and waved.

Quickdraw set the phone down on the kitchen counter and sat in the recliner and leaned his elbows on his knees. He looked over at Annabelle who sat on his couch, a blanket over her legs, hands cupped around the hot cocoa he’d made her. She looked haunted.

“Why can’t I kill him now?” Quickdraw growled.

“Because he isn’t the main problem. He’s just the hit man. Who is hiring the hit man?” she asked softly.

Her red hair hung in waves down her face, and her skin was as pale as a sheet. For all her bravado, that asshole had shaken her. Hell, he’d shaken Quickdraw, too.

“Annabelle, this isn’t me. I’m not some patient hunter. That asshole isn’t allowed to act like that toward you. No one is.”

“I should’ve been quieter. Maybe he wouldn’t have made me. My maker would be upset if he knew how careless I was.”

“Rork?”

She nodded. “How’d you know his name?”

“I’m a good stalker, remember? He can’t say anything. He has no right to be hard on you.”

“He has every right.” She dragged her vibrant blue eyes from the mug of cocoa she’d been staring at and repeated, “Every right.”

“Okay, can you explain? I don’t like you getting upset over someone else’s reaction. Fuck everyone outside of this RV, Annabelle. I only care if you’re all right, but you have this need to please your maker. Why?”

“Because he made me, but he didn’t leave me, Quickdraw. He