The Hunted by Kristy Berridge

his immaculately cut physical appearance, personal hygiene, and exceptional taste in clothing were anything to go by, then he was probably batting for the other team.
    ‘Elena?’
    ‘Umm, yep. I’m on the front counter. Got it.’
    I pushed the rear door open and headed into the staff room, leaving Kayla and Glen to discuss the upcoming consults and who would be assigned to what. I dumped my bag in the cupboard by the sink and then headed out to open the store. It was almost nine.
    The day passed quite quickly in hindsight. Glen had been right. It was extremely busy. Kayla and Glen had spent the entire day attending to one consultation after another, and booking several others that would involve home visits.
    I manned the front counter as instructed, being entirely on my own since everyone was too busy to help. I also spent what little time I had not serving, labelling the new batch of stock that arrived on Friday, and setting up shelves to house the new kitchen wares. By the end of the shift my mind was swirling around with the varied aromas from the scented candles I had also unpacked, and the assorted questions relating to mirrored cabinets and the latest Trisha Guild fabric collection. By six o’clock I was ready to split. I’d more than had enough of helping people match their pillows to their bedspreads and other such menial nonsense.
    ‘You ready?’ Kayla said to me as she turned the sign around on the front window and padlocked shut the front door.
    I grinned and blew out a sigh of relief. ‘It’s like you read my mind.’
    ‘You ladies have a nice weekend,’ Glen said, patting me on the shoulder before heading over to the cash register and counting the till. ‘Good work today—both of you. Kayla. I’ll see you Monday.’
    ‘Thanks, Glen,’ she beamed, walking back to me. She had that supercilious look on her face whenever a good-looking male complemented her. ‘Let’s go.’
    I retrieved my bag from the staff room on the way out and then followed Kayla to her car. I checked my phone for messages. There was only one, a text message from Lucas that said, ‘Sucks to be you’.
    I deleted the message and shoved the phone back inside my bag.
    Dumb ass.
    We were cruising home again before I knew it, Kayla chatting excitedly about her day. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I wasn’t the slightest bit interested—eight hours of home design conversation and dusting furniture was more than enough for me. However, I faked listening to her every word, oohing and ahhing when required.
    I could have jumped for joy when we finally pulled up in my driveway, which instantly plagued my conscience, making me feel like a really bad friend. Then again, as much as I loved Kayla, she was conceited, and probably wouldn’t have noticed my lack of interest anyway.
    ‘So I’ll see you tonight then?’
    ‘Tonight?’ I said, looking at her bewildered.
    Had I forgotten something?
    She rolled her eyes. ‘You know, what we’ve been talking about all day … the rave?’
    Realisation dawned, and I grinned. ‘You do realise that I’m grounded, right?’
    She shrugged and grinned back. ‘Since when has that ever stopped you?’
    ‘True,’ I said, grabbing my backpack and climbing out of the car. ‘I’ll meet you in the usual place at eleven thirty tonight.’
    ‘Done.’ I closed the door behind me, and she waved as she backed down the driveway and disappeared from sight.
    I shifted my backpack over one shoulder and headed towards the house. The strange tang of Susan’s cooking insidiously invaded my nostrils, automatically triggering my gag reflex. She was the worst cook in history. There was no doubt about it. The other Protectors in our faction had stopped coming over for dinner years ago. Their excuses were good, and varied, but there was no excuse for family. We couldn’t escape.
    Need I say more?
    I retrieved my house keys and let myself in the front door. The smell of burnt meat, stewed apples and