by RC Boldt
“Then you’ll still have me.”
Her eyes shift back to him, and they gleam with interest that I’d bet hard money isn’t strictly business-like. I resent the fiery burn of jealousy that ignites within me.
“The Hunter,” she muses with a devious smirk. “Working solely for me.” Tipping her head to the side, she narrows her eyes. “Since you’ve never crossed us in the past, I believe this could be the start of a wonderful working relationship.”
An eerie sensation prickles along the length of my spine. I sense another person is watching us, but I can’t turn my head to look for traces of surveillance placed in the room. Not with Hunter’s gun pressed against the back of my skull.
She casts a glance in my direction before commanding Hunter, “Let me see who we’re dealing with.”
“Bring out whoever you’ve got hidden first, and I will.”
I should’ve known Hunter would pick up on that, too.
Her perfect eyebrows rise a notch. “You are good.” Without shifting her attention from Hunter, she picks up her cell phone, and within a few seconds, speaks into it. “Darling, come out and join us properly.”
54
Hunter
It’s a good thing Kate stands in front of me because I don’t have to witness her eyes stabbing me with anger. I know her brown gaze churns like a fast-approaching storm, ready to unleash its total wrath.
The woman’s manicured fingertips tap the keys of the laptop in front of her, and the gun sitting right beside her on the desk indicates she’s not above doing some dirty work if necessary.
Some things never change. Hayden Carter Boyd always liked fucking with people, even back then.
“The money’s been transferred accordingly.”
I nod curtly.
“Since we’ll be working together, don’t you think it’s safe to show your face?”
“Not really.” No way in hell.
The irritation at not getting her way is nearly palpable, crackling in the air between us. “I insist.”
“Get used to disappointment.”
Hayden lets out a caustic laugh. The weight of her gaze slithers over me from head to toe before returning to where my face is covered by a balaclava similar to Kate’s. “You remind me of someone I once knew.”
I don’t respond.
“If there’s one thing I learned from my father, it’s that most people are dispensable.” Her gaze travels over Kate. “And you did me a favor by getting rid of Cash. He’d been getting far too greedy lately.”
She tips her head to the side, eyes narrowing on me. “But you…you’ve got staying power. I like that in a man.” She purses her lips as if she’s tasted something sour. “Unlike my father and brother.”
Hayden confirms my hunch. She removed the two men from the picture, enabling her to rule the organization on her own.
“Now.” She waves her hand again, gesturing to Kate. “Let me see who’s been behind the hits on my men.”
I nudge Kate with the gun at the back of her head, urging her to remove her balaclava. Slowly, cautiously, she peels it off and tosses it aside.
Surprise flashes on Hayden’s face, brows slanting together before her features morph into a sneer. She leans back in the chair, tapping a perfectly manicured finger to her lips.
“Well. I wasn’t expecting this.” Her mouth flattens into an irritated line. “I thought my message was quite clear when I killed your family. Although it’s a pity you didn’t die with them. I certainly didn’t expect someone like you to turn into a murderer.” Hayden lifts her chin a notch, and her eyes glitter with icy calm. “I’m far more refined. I have power and money. Perhaps that’s why I’m more appealing.”
What the fuck…? The last part of her response doesn’t make any goddamn sense. But before Hayden can continue her arrogant diatribe, Kate spits at her, and it sprinkles along the surface of the desk. “You’re a fucking murderer!”
I jab the gun’s muzzle into Kate’s side as a silent warning, and her jaw clenches, her body stiffening.
Hayden’s eyes flash mutinously. “You need to remember your manners when you speak to me.” She gestures to herself. “I’m the person who took your family from you. I hold all the power.”
My ears perk at the sound of footsteps approaching, and the woman’s eyes dart past us. Listening to the way the man carries himself and judging by his footfalls, he’s not nearly as fit as I would’ve expected if this is the second-in-command. But I suppose he doesn’t need to do much of the heavy hitting.
Once he steps forward, though, and the light hits his face, I war with myself not to visibly react. And I thank fuck Kate can’t see him from where he stands.
Holy fucking shit.
It takes all my willpower not to put a bullet through his motherfucking skull.
Kate doesn’t attempt to turn to see the new arrival—not with my other gun pressed flush against the back of her head. Her sole attention is trained on the woman as she explodes with fury, “Fuck you! You’re all fucking murderers! Every one of you!”
“Caitlin, stop.”
Her body freezes, tensing at the sound of his voice.
Hayden laughs, her smile filled with maliciousness. “The look on your face is priceless.” She nods at me, and I step back from Kate.
Kate turns her head slowly to peer at the man standing off to the side and her lips move, yet nothing comes out.
“This is certainly one for the books,” Hayden says. “Reunited. But with a twist.”
“I watched you die.” Kate’s words sound like they’re forced out from a sandpaper-dry throat. “How?”
Dressed in an expensive, well-tailored suit and sleek black shoes, he even has a goddamn pocket square.
Hayden looks too fucking pleased with herself. “Say hello to my second-in-command.”
55
Kate
No. It can’t be. Internally, I war with the reality I’m faced with.
Eyes glued on the man standing here, my mind races, searching for answers to how this could be possible.
Lead fills my body, weighing it down, and I’m rooted to the spot, unable to move. Unable to believe the sight before me.
He looks nothing like my husband who favored jeans or khakis along with simple cotton T-shirts. No…standing before me now is a man who appears at ease in an expensive suit and shiny shoes like it’s a second skin.
Grief is a ruthless bitch. She strikes when you least expect it, clawing out your insides with the sharpest of talons until you bleed out.
But when faced with betrayal of this caliber, when faced with the man I mourned, the man I built a home with, the sight of what he’s become, and the realization that he willingly gave it all up—me and Willow—for money and power, it hits me with a deluge of nausea that has my knees wobbling.
“Caitlin.”
I flinch at the sound of my name spilling from his lips because somehow, it sounds different from before, serving as a reminder that this twisted nightmare is all too real.
“How…” I gape at the sight of him, struggling to form words. “But I saw you.” Disbelief and shock color my voice. “You died that day.”
“I never meant for anyone to get hurt. But your dad wouldn’t get on board with things, and we ran out of time.” Expression placid, Deacon’s voice sounds dull, as if he’s reciting some sort of script. “I didn’t know they were planning to do it.”
“You. Killed.” I say each word as a fragment with bated breath. “Our. Daughter.” Shock and disgust blaze through my veins, incinerating any remaining feelings for my husband.
No. He’s not my husband. This isn’t Deacon Ashford. He’s not the man I fell in love with and married. It’s not the man I made a home with or the one I had a beautiful child with.
This man’s a monster.
His features harden. “Sometimes, sacrifices have to be made.”
A mixture of fury and disbelief courses through me as I thunder, “Willow was a fucking sacrif
ice to you?! Our daughter?!”
Without missing a beat, he continues. “You and I weren’t connecting anymore, and Hayden offered me a chance to be a part of something bigger.” Deacon’s gaze shifts to the woman like she’s the greatest present beneath the tree on Christmas Day, and she gives him a nod of approval. “She showed me that I could have more.”
I speak from between clenched teeth, my tone filled with pure venom. “So, you killed our baby girl and then what? Fucked your way to the top?”
His entire demeanor changes in the blink of an eye, morphing into a man who exudes a sinister soul-sucking air. The slap catches me off guard; the stinging contact from his hard palm sends my head snapping back from the impact.
Heat radiates where he hit me, and I raise my chin with a defiant glare. If only I could will him to incinerate on the spot.
My eyes never leave his. “You hit me again, and you’ll fucking regret it.”
Deep lines bracket Deacon’s mouth as he stares at me darkly. “My Caitlin never used language like that.”
“I’m not your anything anymore, you fucking piece of shit!” A trickle of satisfaction permeates my anger when his jaw tics in irritation at my continued use of expletives.
“Look,” Hayden interrupts easily. “I’ll make it easy on you. You’ve proven yourself a worthy adversary, which means we’d be stupid not to offer you a chance to join us.” Her eyes gleam shrewdly. “But you should understand that your marriage is no longer valid.”
Like I want the traitorous bastard anymore. I wrinkle my nose in disgust. “You want me to join you?”
Deacon steps closer, assessing me with cold, dead eyes. “You’ve changed.” His gaze drops to my chest, and a faint smirk tugs at his lips. “Too bad it’s not in the ways that count.”
Motherfucker.
I lunge for him, catching him off guard with a swift punch to the throat and a palm strike to his nose, the bone making that telltale sickening crunch as it breaks. He howls in pain, face turning ruddy with anger, and retaliates faster than I anticipate with a fierce uppercut. I barely dodge it, his knuckles still connecting with the side of my jaw hard enough to make my head snap back and knock me off balance. My body is flung back against Hunter’s unforgiving chest.
My glare clashes with Deacon’s. Blood trickles from his nose, and my heart and brain simultaneously revolt at the sight of the man who allowed his own family to be murdered.
Eyes gleaming with scorn, he withdraws an expensive-looking handkerchief and dabs at his nose. As he bites out each word, they spear me with disdain. “Hayden saw my potential. She knew I was capable of more.”
“So, it was all about money?” I huff out a harsh laugh. “Good for you. I hope you’re happy for the hell I went through for you to get everything you ever wanted!”
Hayden’s calm tone serves as a sharp contrast to our shouting match. “I see why you chose me, baby.”
Baby. The term of endearment has bile rising in my throat.
“If it’s any consolation,” Hayden continues nonchalantly, “Deacon wasn’t aware of my plans. But you do understand that I had to remove everyone from the picture. As he said, sacrifices had to be made. I had to sacrifice my father and brother in order to get to the top, where I deserved to be, and Deacon had to do similarly.” Her gaze sweeps over Deacon. “And I commanded them to use rubber bullets on him.”
Her lips spread into a pleased smile. “It was quite genius, really. I had my men administer a drug to slow Deacon’s heart rate so he’d appear dead. After we saw to it that Detective Warren was detained, I ensured Detective Clairborne was there to handle crime scene photos before Deacon was removed in a body bag in one of our transport vehicles.”
A sudden scowl mars her features, and she adds, “However, Cash failed to get rid of you as instructed, so that served as another reason to allow you to relieve us of him.”
Deacon’s brows furrow as he carelessly tosses aside his bloodied handkerchief. “Goddamn Jeremiah still shot me.”
My fingers flex as I wrestle with the urge to hurl myself at him and gouge his eyes out. Hunter’s gun returning to press against the base of my skull has me hesitating because he’d pull that trigger before I moved an inch.
Fuck.
“Hayden.” The sudden sound of Hunter’s deep voice has me nearly weeping at how my entire body reacts to it. The gravelly quality has goose bumps rising on my skin, and I internally cuss at myself for letting my guard down with him.
Then it suddenly dawns on me. So distracted by Deacon’s reappearance, I hadn’t realized what name he had used for her. The same name Hunter just addressed her by. Hayden.
She’s the one who double-crossed Hunter and left him for dead. He can’t possibly be serious about working with her—the woman who killed his fiancée and unborn child...can he?
Throat painfully tight, I swallow hard and allow a sense of calm to wash over me, ignoring the fact that Hunter is discussing my fate with the woman who gave the order to have my family and me killed.
This isn’t quite how I’d imagined it all ending, but at least I know one factor is a surety: I won’t be coming out of this alive, and I’m at ease with that knowledge. I’m ready because there’s nothing left for me here.
My eyes focus on the monster a few feet away from me—the same one I laid beside every night—and I war with not letting my emotions get the best of me. Hands at my sides, directly overtop the special pockets I’d sewn in my black pants to house my other weapons, I flex my fingertips.
He might be Hayden’s second-in-command, but he sure as shit hasn’t trained like I have. Nor is he fueled by the fury, the heartache, and the vengeance that pulses like fiery-hot lava through my veins.
I use every ounce of my training to control my breathing and focus on my surroundings and on my opponents. Deacon is my first target. As soon as the tips of my fingers breach the pockets where I stowed my throwing stars, Hunter’s deep voice booms again, nearly startling me.
“I need to introduce you to my partner.”
“You never mentioned a partner.” She scowls at him, eyes turning squinty with irritation. “You know I don’t like surprises.”
“I think you’ll like this one.”
He whistles, the sharp sound piercing the air a moment before Kujo bounds through the door. Hunter commands in a dark, lethal tone, “Attack!”
The instant the dog lunges for Hayden’s throat, I hurl a throwing star at Deacon. Gunshots riddle our surroundings, causing my ears to ring painfully.
Deacon veers to the side in the nick of time, but he’s not as lucky with the second throwing star. It embeds in his left bicep, and he bares his teeth in obvious pain.
Goddammit, this damn shoulder injury is fucking with me. The nagging pain and inability to move my arm and shoulder as freely are affecting my aim.
Grabbing the knife from my ankle sheath, I advance on him as the shots continue firing nearby. Deacon quickly swings his right fist and clips my jaw hard.
I stagger back from the impact, and his fingers wrap around my wrist in a near strangling hold. Fighting to maintain my grasp of the knife, I land two hard punches to his ribs before grabbing his left wrist and shoving it up toward his bicep. Using as much force as I can muster, I press his bent arm against the throwing star still deeply embedded in his upper arm.
He lets out a low growl of pain when the sharp points of the steel pierce his forearm and his eyes turn thunderous. My body trembles from exertion as I fight his vicious grip on my wrist as pain radiates from my shoulder.
Fuck. I feel my strength waning and struggle to power through. Just as he slackens his hold on me and I prepare to drive the knife into his flesh, he catches me off guard, driving his knee upward to slam between my legs with brutal ferocity.
I stagger in pain, overwhelmed by the sensation that he’s just shattered my pubic bone. Grabbing my head in his hands, he slams my skull against the doorjamb.
Then it all goes black.
5
6
Hunter
Emptying a clip, my bullets riddle Hayden’s body with holes as she jerks at the impact of each hit. My vengeful pleasure diminishes the instant I turn and see Deacon slam Kate’s head against the steel doorjamb with enough force that her body goes slack and she collapses to the floor. Red blooms at her temple, and blood trickles from her nose.
I don’t think; I just launch myself at the bastard. Each time my fist connects with his worthless body and the sound of bones crunching hits my ears, it does nothing to satisfy me.
I’m only granted a fraction of pleasure once he’s slumped on the floor, wheezing and whimpering after I’ve beaten him to a pulp. His jaw appears dislocated, and his arm is bent at an abnormal angle. There’s no telling how many of his ribs I’ve busted.
Leaving Kujo to keep an eye on him, I move to Kate’s side. The stillness of her eyes, the way they remain so fucking lifeless, sends my heart into a flurry of rapid, staccato beats, threatening to pulse right out of my chest. When I can’t find her pulse beneath my shaky fingertips, a roar erupts from deep within my chest. “You can’t leave me! Not like this!”
Ripping off her vest, I assess her quickly for injuries. When I don’t detect any, aside from her shoulder wound and rapidly forming bump on her head, I start CPR, willing her to come back to me.
Thirty chest compressions and two breaths. Thirty chest compressions and two breaths.
Desperation unlike anything I’ve ever known claws at me as I stare down at her unmoving body. “Goddammit, come back to me!” My chest feels as though it’s on fire as I plead, my voice sounding like it’s been raked over gravel. “Please, Kate.”
Refusing to give up, I continue with CPR.
“Please, goddammit,” I grit out with each chest compression. “Come back to me.”