The Hunter (Boston Belles 1)

Lana: By the next Olympics I will be a gazillionaire and Sailor will be a virgin spinster who has nothing but archery in her life. I’ll be out of the game and deep into my acting career. She can have the Olympics then.

I ripped the AirPod from my ear, killing the recording. The rest was more bullshit Lana spewed about Sailor, which she didn’t need to hear. Sailor’s huge jade eyes stared up at me, the gold and gray in them glittering. Every muscle in her body looked tight and strained, and I found this moment to ponder the stupidest thing in the universe—if we ever had kids, what eye color would they have, between my deep blue and her wild green?

How about focus on her not wanting to murder you first, old sport?

“Hell if I know how he found out about the agreement.” I shook my head. “But there you have it.”

“God, Hunter. I told him. About our agreement. About…” She cupped her mouth, keeling like she was about to throw up. “I did this. I told Junsu. And he used it against me. Lana bribed him. Jesus Christ. My own trainer…” She trailed off, straightening her spine and pacing back and forth in the parking lot, pulling at her short tresses.

It was a lot to take in. Sailor and Junsu had worked together for a long time. I rubbed her back, surprised that she let me. Then again, she was in shock. She kept saying, “He betrayed me” over and over again. Then the tune changed to, “And you betrayed me, too.”

“Now, hold that thought.” I grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her to sit on some random car’s hood.

She slapped my hands away, scowling at me. “I know what I saw.”

“No, you know what you think you saw. Around the time your shoulder was injured, I started suspecting Junsu’s motives. His behavior seemed at odds with that of a trainer who wanted his athlete to succeed. I already had recording devices and Sherlock Holmes’ equipment coming out of my ass, so I figured—what’s another offense to my list of growing breaches of privacy? I was getting good at playing super spy. I wired him up unbeknownst to him, just for shits and giggles, and have been listening to him periodically. One in the piggy bank. The other in a watch that’s a replica of the one he put on his desk for a second to try my Rolex.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “You came to visit Junsu?”

I nodded. “Pretended to take an interest in private lessons. Scared the bejesus out of him when I said I wanted to learn so I could survive post-apocalypse.”

That earned me a faint smile. Tough crowd.

I soldiered on. “These recordings won’t hold in court, aingeal dian, because my ass had no business wiring him up. The day you so-called caught Lana and me doing it, I came in because Junsu said he had something to show me. It sounded a lot like a threat, and I worried it was about you. Only it wasn’t Junsu who walked into his office. It was Lana. And she caught me messing with his drawers. It looked bad. Like, horrible. She thought I was trying to find juice on him—which was true—and had me by the balls. But I knew the wire in the piggy bank was still working, so I pretended to cooperate with her, knowing I could prove to you that nothing happened. Also, she gave me the information I was after.”

I hit the play button again on my phone, this time on another trimmed section of the recording. The AirPod still in Sailor’s ear began to play.

Lana: Busted, pretty boy.

Hunter: You scared the living shit out of me. I was just on my way out.

Lana: Where do you think you’re going? We both know you’re not supposed to be here.

Hunter: Junsu called me.

Lana: To go through his drawers? I don’t think so.

Hunter: And what brings you here? Got a taste for older men?

Lana: Only if they serve my purposes.

Hunter: Hey. What the fuck are you doing?

Lana: Texting my friends from the local newspapers our whereabouts. And Junsu, too, to tell your girl to come over here and see this. We’re about to raise a scandal, baby.

Hunter: Why would Junsu answer your ass? I’ve met bricks less tough than him.

Lana: Because we’re working together on something—no point in keeping you in the dark. You’re about to become a part of my plan. Lose your shirt.

Hunter: Lose your entitled, shit-eating grin first.

Lana: Meow. I wouldn’t cross me, pretty boy. I’m a girl on a mission, and right now, you’re it.

Hunter: God, you sound like a B-grade porn adaptation of the Power Rangers. I mean, it sounds like something I’d be into, but surprisingly, it’s not.