Hunter

by Blaire Drake

  Gaige's arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me back from him.

  I screamed, lashing out as he fought to keep his hold of me. Garbled, nonsensical words and sounds escaped my lips as my throat burned in desperation. I clawed at Gaige's hands, needing him away from me before he washed away the last memory of Hunter's touches.

  Bodies were everywhere, but all I saw was his. Even through the thick blur of my tears, I watched his chest resolutely as it jerked up and down with his labored attempts at breathing.

  If I could touch him, be there, speak to him, he'd fight more. Wouldn't he? That was how it worked.

  “Addy, Angelo needs to get him outside for the paramedics. You need to calm down, babe,” Gaige said into my ear, pinning my arms to my stomach.

  I shook my head, my hair flying as Hunter's blood sunk into my shirt. “Don't you dare lie to me, Hunter!” I yelled as Angelo tentatively lifted Hunter's lifeless body and carried him outside. I didn't know what he'd tell them, what he'd do, what would happen, but I stared. “Be okay,” I whispered in a thick voice.

  My heart beat harsher as I watched him disappear through the door.

  Everything felt like it was happening in a different time and a different place. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to be anywhere near here. I wanted to go to that different time and different place where Hunter wasn't hurt and he wasn't dying and everything was okay again.

  I wanted to forget everything.

  I slumped against Gaige in defeat as the adrenaline subsided, giving way to the agony that had taken root in the wisps of my soul.

  If Hunter died, the pain would replace my soul.

  That much I was certain of.

  ***

  I stared out of the window at the rain.

  It'd been a long time since I'd seen rain.

  Been a long time since I really sat and watched the heavy downpour as it splattered against a sidewalk, sunk into the grass, dripped off trees, danced off the windowsills. Three drops trailed down the window, racing each other, fighting for dominance as two merged into one and suddenly fell a good inch down the glass pane.

  I liked rain.

  I'd missed it.

  It was... numbing. Tedious. Completely boring, yet utterly fascinating at the exact same time. I wanted to watch it all day. Let time pass by with nothing.

  Hunter.

  His name rolled around my mind constantly. I couldn't shake it—couldn't rid myself of the thoughts of him, of how easily he closed his eyes when I kissed him.

  The hospital were one more phone call away from having me arrested, I was sure.

  I also didn't think that telling them I'd just killed my mafia boss father, meaning I was now the head of a family that had its fingers, toes, and nipples in every illegal activity mention-able, would work much in my favor.

  I'd been sitting in the room that was once my bedroom for I had no idea how long. Nothing in the room had changed. It was still painted the same garish, barbie pink I'd loved as a preteen, and the Beanie Babies I'd coveted and collected so religiously were still standing to attention on top of my dresser. Posters were still stuck to the walls with sticky tape, and I already knew from a cursory look inside the drawers that my clothing was still there.

  The room had been stuck in a time warp.

  But it was all I knew. Everywhere else in this house was too strange and foreign to me, and since Angelo had weeded through the remaining family members in the house and maybe killed one or two of them, and Gaige, together with the trustworthy members, had cleaned the house downstairs, I was stuck in this little room.

  It was a strange kind of sanctuary. Even if the pink on the walls was starting to hurt my eyes.

  Three knocks sounded at the door, and I turned in time to see Angelo poking his head through the gap. “Hey,” he said. “Can I come in?”

  I waved at him from the window seat, then rested my forehead back against the cold glass. “Sure.”

  “It looks like a Girl Scout sleepover threw up in here,” he noted, pushing the door to behind him. “Nice Beanie Babies.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I haven't been here since I was thirteen, but it's about the only place nobody has died today.”

  “True.” He perched on the edge of my bed. “I called Dad earlier and told him everything. He's putting some of his associates on a plane up here to help us get everything in order.”

  “Sure. You told him where he can land it, right?”

  “Of course. I'll take care of it. They'll be here today.”

  “Today?” I looked at him.

  “Adriana, it's the middle of the night.”

  “That's why it's so dark, then,” I muttered. I had wondered.

  “You've been up here for three hours. Gaige is losing his mind with worry.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but no sounds came out. “Tell him to come up and see me. I could use some mind-numbing bullshit.”

  Angelo chuckled lightly. “You got it. Boss.” He winked as he said the last word, and for the first time since Hunter was hurt, my smile was genuine.

  I sighed heavily right after he shut the door. I guessed I was, now. The Boss. And boy, was I doing a great job of running the Romano family. I knew nothing about how it operated, I had no idea who was on my side, what I was supposed to do, or anything at all. I'd successfully managed to delegate the shoot out clean up and everything else to Angelo and Gaige.

  I was either starting this new career path of mine off really well, or really freakin' badly, depending on how you looked at it.

  Either way, I was starting it afraid, emotionally torn up, and a murderer.

  Again... I couldn't help but feel like I had it down already.

  It was hitting me that my grand plan to kill my father, while it was successful, wasn't very well thought through. I'd acted on impulse, determined to get revenge for what he'd done to me, for making me leave everything I'd ever known, but I hadn't thought about what would happen after.

  I hadn't thought about the fact I'd be the one in charge. I'd be the one who owned everything from the cash in the bank to the dead bodies. To the fights in the streets, the gunshots, the payback... I'd be responsible for everything. Even for the punishments the people who crossed the Romanos would get.

  I was twenty-three years old.

  My father didn't deserve this family, this empire.

  But maybe... Maybe I wasn't ready for it.

  “Hey,” Gaige's voice was soft as he clicked my bedroom door shut behind him. “How are you feeling?”

  “Well, it's apparently the middle of the night, and I didn't know the sun had gone down, so you tell me.” I flicked my eyes over to him.

  His lips sadly pulled up on one side. “I know. We sorted everything though, you know that, right?”

  “I know. Thank you.” I tapped my foot against the other side of the window seat. “You can sit if you want.”

  “I'm actually wondering if I'm going to get a fucking disease from how girly this bedroom is.”

  “Shut your mouth, Pontarelli. I was thirteen.”

  “I know. But there's way too much Justin Timberlake in this room for any straight man to be comfortable. It might even make a few gay ones hesitant.” He sat down, and I rested my feet over him. “I mean, really? Is a whole wall of JT necessary?”

  “Okay, first, Justin is always necessary.” I prodded my toes into his thigh, and he winced, grabbing my bare foot. “And second, it's not just Justin. It's N-Sync, and they happened to be my preteen obsession. Now stop being annoying.”

  He grinned. “I know I'm being annoying, but I made you smile, didn't I?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Shut up. I'm picking a new bedroom first thing tomorrow. Preferably one someone didn't die in.”

  “Good luck.” He snorted.

  Looked like I was gonna have to call a priest for a preemptive exorcism. Just in case. I wouldn't put it past Enzio to come back as a poltergeist just to piss me off.

  I sighed heavily an
d rested my head against the glass yet again. Rain still pounded against it, but I didn't notice the chill anymore. Although, if I was honest, I'd probably end up with a headache from the banging.

  “What are you thinking about?” Gaige ran his hand up and down my calf, and the gentle stroking motion was soothing. It gave me something to focus on other than how fucked I was.

  “Everything,” I admitted softly. “What I've done. What I'm going to do. What's going to happen. It's like a constant stream of consciousness I just can't break. I'm tired but I can't sleep. My brain hurts but it won't shut down. I feel sick but I can't eat. I'm broken but I can't cry. I feel so much, yet at the same time, I'm entirely numb.”

  I'd never killed a man before.

  In the past twelve hours, I'd killed at least two. Maybe more.

  I didn't know.

  I had the blood I wanted, and blood I didn't.

  I wondered if this was how Hunter felt every day.

  “Does it bother you? Knowing you killed someone?” I met Gaige's eyes. “You did before, right?”

  “Once. Because it was them or my brother.” He shrugged a shoulder. “It's just how it is in this life, Addy. You know that. You were just sheltered from it, and we never spoke about it. But yes, sometimes. Sometimes I think about it a lot, and then I remember that if I didn't kill them, Angelo might not be here.”

  “Do you feel guilty?”

  Gaige tilted his head to the side, his eyes questioning in the dim light from the lamp on the nightstand. “Do you?”

  “Maybe?” It came out a question. “But then... They weren't good people, were they? The other guys would have tried to kill me, and Enzio... He definitely wasn't a good person. I don't care about him.”

  “At all? He wasn't always bad, was he? You know that.”

  “True. So maybe I care, a little. The little girl inside probably does. But me? No, not really. And I don't think I feel guilty. More... Angry. I'm angry that it worked out this way, but I'm glad I was the one who got to fire the shot that killed him.”

  “He probably would have died anyway.” He squeezed my ankle gently. “Carlo got him pretty good.”

  “I know.” A lump formed in my throat and I looked away from him. I didn't want to talk about Hunter. Not until I knew he would be okay. Or that he wouldn't. Either way, the limbo was too much.

  Not knowing really was the curse of this life.

  “You meant what you said to him, didn't you? That you love him,” Gaige said quietly, his voice rough.

  “I...” I trailed off. How was I supposed to put how I felt about him in words? Given the constant ache I felt deeper than I should, 'love' seemed inadequate. “He's my soul,” I whispered thickly.

  Gaige slowly nodded. “I know. I can see it. He loves you, too. He lost his mind when he realized Isaiah had you, back at the motel. I thought he was going to kill me before I could explain why I didn't stop you going.”

  “I'm amazed he didn't,” I admitted. “He's always been... protective.”

  His laugh was low, but genuine. “No kidding. He tried to run after you before he realized he had no idea where you were going. He'd have kicked the shit out of himself if he could, I think.”

  I smiled, looking at him, still leaning against the window. “Truth.”

  “He'll be okay, you know.” Gaige's voice dropped. “He has to come back to you, Addy.”

  I didn't want to say out loud what I was thinking: that it felt like we'd already said goodbye. The wound that final kiss had ripped through my heart was stuck in the place between open and closed, and I knew the slightest recognition of it verbally from me would tear it open and make it bleed.

  I didn't think I could cry any longer.

  “I think he always will,” Gaige continued. “Like you'll always go back to him.”

  “Gaige...”

  “I thought I loved you.” He sat up straight, still holding my ankle, and smiled. “I sure as hell have feelings for you, Addy, but then I saw the two of you together, and I realized that no matter what brought you back together, I'd never be able to love you the way he does.”

  “Stop,” I whispered, squeezing his hand.

  “No, just hear me out, yeah?” He squeezed back, then reached forward and pushed some hair from my face. “You're my best friend, but I always knew you weren't mine. And I hate to say it, but Carlo is a better man than I am. Before we left, he made me promise that I wouldn't get involved in the fight. Not because I can't shoot, but because he didn't know if he'd make it out alive and he didn't want you to be alone.”

  I bit the inside of my lower lip so hard it bled. Emotion swirled in my chest.

  “He pretty much held me at gunpoint and made me promise I'd look after you if anything happened to him.” Gaige smirked. “I didn't need telling, but that's when I knew. He deserves you, because he went into that fight with the knowledge that he could die—for you. To save you. It never crossed his mind to do anything else. And I didn't think twice about getting out as quickly as possible.”

  “That doesn't make you a worse person than him. That makes you honest, Gaige. Even if you told me you got out because you were afraid, I wouldn't think less of you.” I touched his cheek. “You're my best friend, and you know I love you, but even if Hunter dies... I won't let you do what you promised. No—now you let me speak,” I demanded, pressing my thumb over his mouth to stop him talking. “I don't need you to look after me. I need you to find your person worth dying for.”

  He kissed my thumb, then pulled my hand from his face. “Fine. But no matter what happens with him, I'm staying in New York.”

  “Really? The Cali boy is gonna uproot to the big, bright city?”

  He shrugged. “L.A. is kinda slow. And, not gonna lie, today was kind of a rush.”

  “Bored of drug smuggling?”

  “No... Just thinking about how boring life would be if I didn't have you kicking my ass. And chicks with real tits wouldn't go amiss every now and then.”

  Of course. There had to be an ulterior motive.

  I shook my head, smiling yet again, and softly laughed when he grinned wolfishly and opened his arms for a hug. I swung my legs around the seat and threw myself against his solid body. He 'oomped' as my shoulder hit his ribs, but locked his arms around me anyway.

  “Gaige?”

  “Mhmm?” His exhale ruffled my hair.

  “I'm scared,” I said quietly.

  He tightened his grip on me, and then kissed the top of my head. “That's okay. I'll stay with you. Go to sleep, babe.”

  The warmth from his body was reassuring, and somewhere between the steady beat of the rain and the comfort of my best friend, I closed my eyes.

  ***

  I had no clothes.

  That was my first thought as I woke up. I was still wearing the same, blood-covered clothes as yesterday, and a proper look through my drawers had only trumped up an old N-Sync concert t-shirt. There was a hole in the back, along the hem, but it fit.

  Just.

  And here I thought I'd never be glad that concerts had always run out of my size.

  I was used to huge houses, but the Hamptons house far eclipsed the Calabasas one. It was closer to a fucking castle, and I hoped that, at the very least, Angelo could spend some time getting me up to speed with everything. He was the only person I knew who knew everyone.

  The only one that I knew was alive for sure, that was.

  “Hey, sleepyhead,” Gaige said when I eventually stumbled into the giant kitchen.

  I rubbed my eyes. “What time is it? And is there coffee?”

  “Right here. Have mine.” He slid a steaming mug across an island in the middle of the room. “And it's eleven-thirty.”

  “Really? Wow. Thank you,” I said, grabbing the mug and hugging it. “Don't you dare,” I added when he caught sight of my shirt. “It's all I have that fits me and isn't covered in blood.”

  “Ah, the glamorous life of a mafia boss,” Angelo teased me, walking in behind me.
He touched his hand between my shoulderblades and kissed the side of my head. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “Alive,” I answered. It was the best I had. I didn't want to actually feel anything, so existing was a good way to go, it seemed.

  “That's a great start.” He chuckled. “Dad's associates are on their way and will be here in a couple hours. I wanted you to sleep and wake up without your house being invaded by some of Los Angeles' dodgiest bastards.”

  “Well, now I feel better.”

  “Don't worry. They're a little on the dodgy side, but they're trustworthy. They get shit done. They'll help until we can get you on your feet. Unfortunately, most of your father's ranked men died yesterday—some by their own hands, some by the guys under them that sided with you, but you have one or two capos left.”

  “Great,” I muttered, lifting my mug to my lips. “And they're all gonna want to take orders from a twenty-three year old girl.”

  “You're hardly a girl.” Gaige looked pointedly at my chest.

  “If I wasn't in dire need of caffeine right now, I'd throw this at your head. Eyes up, Pontarelli!” I snapped my fingers, and he jerked his attention to my face, then winked.

  “I'm gonna go see what trouble I can find.”

  “And some clothes. Please.” I smiled sweetly.

  He sighed heavily. “And some clothes.”

  I waited until he was gone, and then looked at Angelo. “He wants to stay, you know.”

  “Yes.” He nodded, moving to the coffee machine. Sun poured in through the window, and I found myself missing the rain just a little. “He told me last night. He hates Los Angeles and the pressure Dad puts on him. I always had it easy, because one day I'd lead the family, but he's always been... floating.”

  “Do you think he'll stay? Permanently? Or is it just an idea he's gotten into his head?”

  Angelo leaned against the counter. “I don't know. I think it'll be good for him to spend some time in another place and find himself. I learned a lot about myself here. Gaige might be twenty-four, but he doesn't know who he is yet. He has no identity in L.A.”