The Hunter's Angel

Meet the Michaelson's

How in the hell had my night come down to this? I instantly reflected back to last week when my dad called and I swiftly hit ignore, thinking that I had to have racked up some serious karma for this to be happening.

Nothing else could explain why I was currently face-to-face with a 6'3, devilish asshole - who, by the way, acted like breaking and entering was a completely normal Saturday night endeavor - while I was wearing nothing but my undergarments and a towel.

I had witnessed this man, this Hunter, kill a guy, and then proceed to break into my apartment in the middle of the night, and he had the audacity to tell me to take a seat? On my own fucking sofa? As if we were old buddies, just sharing a cup of tea?

He was definitely psycho.

Hell, I was probably psycho. I had to be, for not reporting him the second I got the chance, and for even allowing myself to be turned on by a criminal. Dread began to overpower my anger, as the dangerous position I was currently in dawned on me further.

"Helloooo," Hunter drawled, snapping me out of my thoughts, "Earth to Angel."

I realized I had been staring at him like an idiot, my mind running blank as I tried to work out a way to get rid of the asshole standing before me.

My hands began to shake as I tightened my grip on the towel, peering up at his wolfish gaze. Sucking in a short breath, I willed myself to take control. "Get out," I repeated, masking my apprehensiveness with a sharp glare, "or I will call the police."

The corner of his lips tipped upwards as he cocked a brow, waving my phone around in his hand. "And how exactly are you planning on doing that?"

Shit. I should've freaking bought a landline when I first got this place like Kat had told me to. Fuck the phone bills, at least I would have had another way of reaching help.

My eyes darted across the apartment, trying to come up with a plan. With Hunter's current positioning, there was no way I was making it to the door, seeing as it was only a couple of feet to his left. If I had any chance of escaping, I would need to get the prick to move.

I took a step towards him, catching him off guard as his eyebrows piqued with interest.

"How did you know where I lived?" I asked in a hushed voice, taking another step forward.

He didn't retreat. Instead, he stayed rooted in place, leaving barely any space between our bodies.

I peered up at him under my fanned eyelashes, and I could have sworn I heard the slightest hitch in his breath.

"I kept an eye on you," he answered in a husky tone.

I advanced once again, forcing him to move backward until he was pressed against the sofa. I leaned forward, my chest almost pressing against his front. "You mean you followed me?" I whispered, my breathing becoming shallow.

His gaze dropped to my parted lips, and he inhaled sharply. "No more questions," he growled in a raspy voice, tilting his head downwards towards mine. As his breath fell on mine, I grew lightheaded. I almost forgot what I was doing as his full lips grew closer, pure desire in his blue eyes.

But our lips never met.

Seizing my opportunity, I swiftly kneed him in the groin for the second time tonight. Hard.

Honestly, I was surprised he didn't see it coming.

"Fucking hell!" he roared, clearly in pain.

I spun around, darting for the door, one hand still clutching onto my towel for dear life. Grabbing the knob, I twisted it to the left as fast as humanly possible, yanking the door open.