Hunted (The Dirty Heroes Collection Book 13)

by Cassandra Faye

  "Yeah, I am." I feel sick again because I know that after this he'll never look at me the same again. He'll never love me the same — and how could he?

  "I need you to tell me what happened. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out, okay? Just talk to me."

  "I brought Harper out here with me. I was going to ask—"

  "You did WHAT?" My dad switches from serious concern to pissed off and panicked so fast that I can't even respond before he's talking again. "Jared, tell me what the hell happened. Did you— shit, did you do something to her? Did you hurt her? How many times have I told you that you aren't allowed to bring anyone out there?!"

  My head is spinning, confusion and guilt battling it out until all that comes out of my mouth is, "You knew?"

  "What did you do, Jared!" Dad shouts, and I feel twelve years old again, only the consequences to this are a lot worse than being grounded from the Xbox. "JARED!"

  "I hurt her, Dad," I whisper, and before I even realize it's happening, I'm crying. Scrubbing at my eyes as my stomach twists into knots because I can imagine the disappointment on his face, the disgust, and I don't blame him. I hate myself.

  "Jesus Christ, Jared. Did you think I was just being an asshole when I told you to never bring anyone out there? It's the rules! The family rules, you know that!" He sounds more panicked than angry, but I just nod even though he can't see me.

  "I know, Dad. I'm sorry." My voice cracks and I try to swallow past the ache in my throat. "I'm so fucking sorry."

  "Okay, first things first, is she..." alive? He leaves the last word unspoken, but I know that's what he wants to know, and it kills me that he thinks I'm capable of that... but, apparently, I am. I'm capable of so much worse.

  "She's alive, but she's hurt. Bleeding. I... I caught her thigh with a broadhead, and—"

  "You shot her with an arrow? Jesus Christ, Jared!" Dad shouts, cutting me off before I can even tell him the worst of it. "I thought my dad was crazy. Shit, I thought he was just superstitious, talking about rules and curses and consequences."

  "Wait, what?" Sitting up straight on the bed, I'm shocked that my dad is talking about my grandfather at all. The man died when I was seven and we never spent much time around him. All I knew was that my dad didn't like him and that they never got past whatever was holding them back. "What did he say about the rules, Dad? Did he tell you something about this place?"

  "It was crazy, Jared! He told me that we were cursed. Our whole bloodline. That the land the cabin was on had been marked by the first of us that came over from England. He thought we'd left England trying to escape this curse, but that it just followed us, and somehow our ancestors were able to contain it to that property up there."

  "A curse?" I repeat, feeling sick as I remember hunting the deer. The silver haze in the air, the hum, the terrifying whispers.

  "It's nuts, right? I mean, curses aren't real." My dad huffs out a laugh, and I've never heard him sound quite so unstable as he starts rambling again. "When I was a teenager, he took me out there once and brought me to this flat area with a bunch of stones and showed me how someone carved our family crest in one of them to keep the curse tied to the land. But he said it meant if anyone that wasn't a Loxley by blood or by marriage came there that the curse would go for them. Would make us go for them. Hell, he said it happened to him and my mom, but I thought he was just covering for the drinking and the fact that he was an abusive sonuvabitch, I had no reason to—"

  "DAD!" I cut him off, trying to process the stream of information that he'd never even hinted at. "Did he tell you what he did to Nana? When they were here?"

  "Shit, Jared, that conversation was almost thirty years ago. I just remember him trying to scare the hell out of me so that I wouldn't bring a girl out there, or take my buddies hunting on the property. I thought he was just being a jackass about keeping the cabin and our land private, or that he didn't want me to trash the place with a party. I never believed a word of it."

  "It's real," I whisper.

  "What?"

  "I think it's real, Dad. All of it. There's something here, something evil... It made me do horrible things, Dad." My voice cracks again and I sniff hard, roughly wiping my eyes as I try to grow some balls. "I hurt Harper. I hurt her... a lot. She needs a hospital."

  "Christ..." I hear my dad open the car door and slam it, and then I hear the door to the house. "I've got something that will help, I just need to find it."

  "Okay." I'm not sure what he could possibly have that will help this nightmare, but when I hear my brother and sister talking to him in the background, I feel even worse. I've never felt so disconnected from them, and I can't imagine ever facing them again. Especially Addison — what the hell could I even say to her?

  "Guys, I can't talk right now, I have to do something for Jared. Carrie, can you pack me a bag?" Dad is doing a much better job at sounding calm than I expected, and I feel a little better knowing he's coming out here, but I can hear the strain in my mom's voice as she asks about me. "He's fine, honey. Just needs some help with stuff, so I'm going to go. Don't worry."

  "You're coming?" I ask, and I feel like such a kid, needing Dad to come rescue me.

  Or put a bullet through my head if I lose my mind again.

  "Of course I'm coming, Jared. We have to figure this out. You're on the satellite phone, right?" he asks, and I can hear him digging through stuff, breathing hard into the phone.

  "Yeah."

  "Okay, well, you need to make sure you charge it. The box is in the closet in the big bedroom." He suddenly sighs, and the sound of flipping pages comes over the line. "I've got it. There's a family up there that helps take care of the property. They keep the fences up, make sure signs stay posted, and my dad always said if anything bad happened out there we could call them."

  "Who are they?"

  "Their last name is Tuck. I don't think I've talked to them in years, but hopefully Dad wasn't lying about this. Look, I'm going to hang up and call them, but I'll call you right back." He pauses and I think he's going to hang up, but then he mutters a curse and takes a deep breath. "Before I hang up... I need to know what you— what condition Harper is in."

  "She's bleeding from her thigh, but I gave her the first aid kit. I don't really know how bad it is, I'm staying away from her. She's got some bruises, and I think she's dehydrated and I..." raped her. Assaulted her. I'm a fucking monster and you need to kill me before this curse makes me do something else.

  "That's enough. I'll tell them and see what they say. Get the phone charging and stay by it... and stay away from Harper. Understand?"

  "Yes, sir," I reply and he hangs up. I know things are never going to be the same again. Not after this — if there is an after. I'm still not convinced that putting the gun in my mouth isn't the right decision. If the curse got to me once, then how do I know it won't happen again? I'd rather be dead than put Harper at risk.

  Blowing out a breath, I wipe my face off and get the phone plugged in on the floor to charge. As I sit down beside the bed, I suddenly remember taking my phone and charger and putting them under the mattress. Twisting around, I reach between the mattress and box-spring and my fingers brush against something hard. When I pull them out, I clench my jaw against the urge to cry again.

  It's all real.

  All the memories are real.

  I don't know why I was still holding out hope that some part of it could be a nightmare, that maybe I wasn't as terrible as I thought I was... but the phone in my hand proves me wrong. The idea of a curse sounds ridiculous, but it's the only thing that makes sense. I remember trying to fight it, trying to ignore the whispers, but I wasn't strong enough. And was it all the curse? Could it have made me do something I wasn't inherently capable of all on my own? Was I always capable of being this person? A violent, abusive, bastard?

  Everything would be easier if I knew the answer to that. My next step, after Harper is safe, would be clear. I'm either forgivable, or utterly damned. I either live or die. />
  Reaching over to the wall, I plug in my phone to charge, and that's when I remember Harper's phone is still in my pocket, so I push myself off the floor and walk around the bed to plug hers back in. The waiting is the worst part, and I really want a shower, but I'm afraid to leave the bedroom. I don't know what I might do if I see her again. Will I snap again? Is she safe?

  The gun.

  Without hesitation, I take it out of the holster on my leg and crack the bedroom door just enough to slide it across the floor, then I shut it tight again and return to the satellite phone to wait like I'd promised. I take my mud-caked boots off, tossing my socks after them. My jeans are a muddy mess, but I know I'm filthy and putting on clean clothes right now would just be a waste.

  "Jared?" Harper's voice is close to the door, softer, and my heart starts racing.

  "Don't come in, Harper. Please."

  "You gave me the gun," she says, and I know she's sitting right by the door. So close. I want to open the door and wrap my arms around her. I want to promise her I'll never hurt her again, that I'll spend the rest of my life making this up to her — but I don't have the right to do that. "You're you again... aren't you."

  It's not a question, but I'm not sure how to answer it anyway. "I think so."

  "What happened to you? To us?" she asks, and I'm at a loss for how to explain any of it to her. I only just got the information on a possible family curse that goes back for generations, something my dad even knew about, but never believed enough to tell me.

  "I don't know, Harper. I called my dad, he's trying to contact someone who can help, and—"

  "I heard you talking to him. What did he say?"

  Shaking my head, I groan as I lean back against the side of the bed. "He said we're cursed. The whole family, or our bloodline anyway." My eyes sting and I press the heels of my hands against them. "This is all my fault, Harper. He told me not to bring anyone out here. He told me never to do it, but I didn't take him seriously. I wanted to ask you—" My voice breaks and I slam my fist into my thigh, wanting to tear myself apart for ruining everything. I could have asked her anywhere, I could have asked her at home on the sofa, but no. I had to bring her out here and ruin both of our lives.

  "You wanted to ask me to marry you," she finishes for me.

  "Yeah."

  "And the curse.... your dad knew about it?" I can hear a subtle tremor in her voice, but I don't know what's causing it now.

  "Apparently my grandfather told him about it when he was younger, but he didn't believe him. Which is apparently another tradition in our family. Sons ignoring the warnings of their fathers." I groan under my breath, looking over at the door. "I am so fucking sorry, Harper."

  She's silent for a long moment before I hear a quiet, "I believe you."

  It's not much, and it's not forgiveness, but I'm so relieved that she's talking to me that I don't even care. "If anything happens, if I do anything weird or dangerous, I want you to kill me. There's six bullets in that pistol, and I want you to use all of them, do you understand?"

  "I'm not going to kill you, Jared."

  "That... that's not me." I shake my head, remembering the blackouts, the utter loss of control as something flipped a switch in my brain. I'd tried so damn hard to fight it, but it won. "If it happens again, you're not killing me, you're killing whatever evil lives here, and I swear if you don't do it Harper, I'll pull the trigger myself to keep you safe."

  "No, Jared, I don't want—"

  The satellite phone rings, and I cut her short. "Hold on, my dad is calling back." Answering it, I turn away from the door to focus on my dad. "Hey dad."

  "Okay, someone in the Tuck family is a doctor, and they're on their way over with a medical bag and one of his sisters. Somehow they know more about this fucking curse than I do. I'm going to start driving up there right now, but it's going to be about four hours. I don't want you to leave, all right?"

  "I understand." I feel like I can finally take a deep breath knowing that someone else will be here soon, someone that will stop me if I start to lose my mind again, because I don't think Harper would pull the trigger.

  "Good. Now, I want you to give the phone to Harper. I want to talk to her, but then I want you to get away from her again." My dad is completely in control now. The panicked voice from before is gone, and he's back to his serious conversation voice. I'm worried about what Harper might tell my dad, but it's not like whatever happens I wouldn't deserve it.

  "Yes, sir." Pushing off the floor, I carry the phone to the door and lean my forehead against it. "Harper, my dad wants to talk to you. I'm going to pass the phone through the door, okay?"

  "Okay," she answers, and as I hand it through the crack our fingers touch for a brief second and I wonder if that's the last chance I'll ever have to feel her skin on mine.

  15

  Harper

  "Harper?" Jared's dad sounds nervous, and I'm curious about how much he knows. Did he know this was possible? Did he do this to Jared's mom?

  "I'm here," I finally answer, getting comfortable against the door again.

  "First, I want you to know how incredibly sorry I am. I... I don't know what happened out there, but I know Jared hurt you, and I am so sorry, sweetheart. You didn't deserve this, and I take some of the blame for not making sure Jared took the rules seriously. I know my son, and I..." His dad sighs, falling silent for a moment. "I'm not going to make any excuses for him. All I will say is that I know he loves you."

  "I know." Turning, I lean my head against the door, listening for him, but I don't even hear him moving around. Part of me hopes he's just on the other side of the door, listening to me. "I know he loves me."

  "That's good. I won't ask you to forgive him, or forgive me, but I'm going to ask you to wait there until I get there. There are some family friends on the way, their last name is Tuck, and one of them is a doctor. He's going to look at your leg and help you out, okay?"

  "I'm not going anywhere, Mr. Loxley," I say, almost laughing at the idea as I press my hand over the bandage I put on my thigh after I cleaned it. It doesn't hurt nearly as bad as it did earlier though, and I'm not sure if that's just because it's clean or not. "Do you know when the doctor will be here?"

  "They told me they'd be there as soon as they could, but I really don't know how close they are to the property, and that road always takes a bit. I'm about four hours away though and I promise I'm going to push the speed limit the whole way." Mr. Loxley takes a deep breath, and I hear him mutter something before his voice returns to the phone. "Be honest with me, are you safe right now?"

  "I think so," I answer, and I actually mean it. It sounds crazy, and I know that logically I shouldn't trust Jared at all, or ever again... but logic sort of goes out the window when you watch your boyfriend spew silver fog and then throw up black tar. "Whatever it was... whatever was in him, I think it's gone."

  "What do you mean?" he asks, and I know that I haven't spent enough time around Jared's dad to start talking about his son breathing mist and vomiting black sludge.

  "It'll be easier to explain in person."

  "All right. Well, if you need anything at all, I want you to call me. The Tucks should be there soon and then you'll at least have someone there to help keep you safe." I'm not sure how hard it was for Mr. Loxley to say that, considering the person he wants to keep me safe from is his own son, but it means a lot that he's worried about me.

  "Thank you, Mr. Loxley. I... I'm really glad you're going to be here. I think Jared needs you."

  "Jesus... Harper, you're something else. I can't believe you're worrying about him right now, but I love you for it.” He lets out a low, bitter chuckle before he takes a slow breath. “You can call me Charlie, and while I don't expect you to do anything after this, I just want you to know how grateful Carrie and I are that you loved our son."

  Tears well up in my eyes as I look down at the ring on my hand. It's beautiful, just the kind of ring I'd always imagined I might wear one day, and as
I spin it around my finger, I can't lie about what I feel, no matter how crazy it is. "I still love him, Charlie."

  "That... that's good, Harper. We'll talk more as soon as I can get there, okay?" Charlie clears his throat, and I smile a little at his gruff voice. "Make sure you get the cord for the phone from Jared so you can keep it charged up. That battery isn't great anymore, and I keep forgetting to replace it."

  "I'll do that."

  "Okay, I'll see you both soon. Keep yourself safe." Charlie hangs up and I drop the phone into my lap, looking back at the door.

  "Were you listening?" I ask, and I'm not sure why, but I can almost feel him sitting on the other side of the wood.

  "You said you still love me," Jared answers, and I hear him sniff.

  "It's true."

  "No, Harper... no. You can't still love me after all of this, not after... Fuck, I hurt you so bad. I'm never going to forgive myself for what I did to you, I can't even look at you without—" He groans and I feel the thump of his head dropping against the door. "There's no forgiving me. As soon as my Dad gets here, I'll have him take you home. I can go to my parents' house, and I'll move out. You can keep whatever you—"

  "Jared, stop." Turning around, I put my hand on the door, looking at the ring that I know he bought weeks or months ago. Long before this trip, before this curse or whatever the fuck it is. "If you remember everything, then you have to remember every time I told you that something was wrong with you, that you weren't acting like yourself."

  "Yeah, I remember," he mumbles.

  "What you might not remember is having a seizure on the floor of the living room where a bunch of silvery fog poured out of your mouth like some weird sci-fi movie, and then you started puking up black tar."

  "I remember the black stuff."

  "Good. Then do you see why I'm inclined to believe all this shit about curses?" I ask, but he doesn't answer me, and I sigh. Taking my hand off the door, I twist the ring on my finger again, pulling it toward my knuckle so that I can look at the circle of shiny, pink skin underneath. The metal actually burned me when he put it on, and I wish he'd let me show it to him. "I think it was the ring that snapped you out of it, Jared."