Page 128 of Only the Hunter

“You sure?” she asks. “I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure. It’s a straight shot.”

She studies me a second longer than necessary.

“Brie. Look around us. I’m good.” No matter what Gabe may have told her, I’m capable. I’ve managed just fine without anyone watching out for me—and we’re in a safe part of DC.

“Gabe would hate it,” Brie says.

“Gabe doesn’t get a vote,” I answer. “I’m fine. You have a flight to catch.”

“Call if anything feels off.”

I refrain from rolling my eyes—because she’s not entirely off base given everything—and force a smile. “I will.”

She squeezes my shoulder lightly before heading back toward the parking structure.

I tuck my hands into my coat pockets and head toward the end of the street where rideshares are easier to grab. But my crap mood mandates that I get some fresh air.

It’s cold, but the sky is remarkably blue and clear for January. My heeled boots click against the sidewalk and my chest loosens with each deep breath.

The neighborhood shifts slightly—less federal, more residential. Brick multimillion-dollar rowhouses. Bare trees. Evergreen boxwoods. A dog barking somewhere behind a wrought-iron fence. The pads of my feet radiate soreness from the extended sidewalk time.

I pull out my phone and request the ride. It’s time to get back—and face Gabe.

Five minutes for the closest ride.

Distant footsteps sound.

I glance behind me.

It’s just a man in a navy coat walking his dog.

I look forward again.

Paranoia.

At the street corner, where it’s easiest to be picked up, I glance back.

He’s still there.

My pulse feels…elevated.

I’m in a safe area.

Mind tricks.

Plus adrenaline from the meeting.

A car door shuts somewhere behind me.

I don’t turn immediately.

But my muscles tighten.

The sounds around me get louder.

I adjust course slightly, crossing toward the opposite sidewalk.