by Chloe Walsh
It was our saving grace in this moment.
"Goddammit to hell!" Hunter barked when he was done with his phone call. He shoved his cell into his jeans pocket and rubbed his jaw. "I'm doing the wrong thing here." His gaze landed on my face and he let out a string of muttered curse words before reaching for his cigarettes. "I should have gone with my gut and taken you to the fucking hospital." He took a deep drag from his smoke and released a growl. "Fuck."
"I'm not leaving you," I croaked out for the millionth time, feeling hoarse and sounding raspy. My throat was so sore it felt like razors had set up camp inside of my mouth.
Every time I swallowed, I could taste the tinge of blood mixed with my saliva as it trickled to the back of my throat.
The bleeding on my face had stemmed, but I knew that if I moved around too much, it would start right back up again.
To be honest, I had no clue how there was any blood left in my body.
The only thing I was certain of was that I needed stitches.
I just wasn’t prepared to leave Hunter.
I didn’t want to be apart from him.
Not for one second.
I needed to stay right here with this man.
I was sure he was the only one that could keep me safe.
And I was terrified that if I left him alone he would turn himself in.
The fear of him turning himself in for this scared me far more than the body and the blood and the secrets.
****
Chapter Six
Hope
When my uncle walked into the kitchen fifteen minutes later, it all became too real for me. His gaze landed on the blanket covered body on the floor and his brows shot up in surprise. "Well shit," Noah muttered, not batting an eyelid as he rubbed his jaw.
See, there was something very wrong with the friends I kept company with. This should have provoked a deeper response than a mild spoken 'well shit'.
Noah looked to Hunter, giving him a quick once over before settling his attention on me. He walked over to where I was sitting and exhaled a heavy sigh, and that's when I saw it; the shock and pity flashing in his brown eyes as he took in the sight of my face.
Of what I looked like now.
That's when it became obvious to me that my life had changed irrevocably.
I was disgusting.
Crouching down in front of me, Noah used one hand to gently tip my chin upwards. "Well hell," he muttered, inspecting my face with perceptive eyes. "It's almost identical to her mother's," he added, eyes locked on my face, but clearly talking to Hunter. Releasing my face, he stood up and said, "Luck, man, that needs surgery."
Those words caused Hunter to lose all of the control he had built up. Instantly, it was gone and he was back to smoking and cussing and kicking the corpse every time he walked by.
"I'm not going to the hospital," I bit out vehemently. "I'm not leaving him."
Noah's brows raised in surprise, but he didn’t question my motives. I had a feeling he already knew. "Then you need stitches, a tetanus shot, and some strong-ass antibiotics," he stated calmly. "Because that –" he pointed to my cheek, "is gonna get infected and fast."
"Did you hear me?" I hissed. "I said I'm not leaving him."
"Shit," Noah grumbled, running his hand through his dark hair. "Mother fucking shit."
"Yeah," Hunter deadpanned. "Shit."
"What the hell is it with us and stubborn fucking women?" He turned to look at me and said, "Luck's a big boy, Hope. He can take care of himself –"
"He was going to go to the cops, Noah!" I snarled, interrupting him. My revelation caused Noah's eyes to widen. "Yeah," I added, taking comfort in the blatant look of disapproval spreading across my uncle's face. "He was going to hand himself in."
"Goddammit to hell!" Swinging around to glare at Hunter, Noah hissed, "Over my dead fucking body, Lucky."
"That's what I said," I shot back in full agreement, shaking from head to toe. "He's not going down for this."
"She needs a goddamn doctor, Noah!" Hunter shot back, pacing the kitchen like a caged animal. "If you honestly think I would put myself before her needs then you don’t know me as well as you think, man."
"Well, the break from crazy was nice while it lasted," Noah finally said with a resigned sigh. I watched as he pulled his cell out of his pocket, swiped a thumb across the screen, and then pressed the phone to his ear. "G? Yeah, it's me." He glanced down at the body then and shook his head. "I need a favor."
"I don’t want you involved with those men again, Noah," I began to sob, but Noah cut me off with one lethal glare.
"Do you want to keep him out of prison?" he demanded, covering his cell with his hand. When I nodded, Noah hissed, "Then shut your mouth, and let me handle my business."
"Real fucking tactful, Messina," Hunter snarled, shoving past Noah to come stand beside me. Without thinking twice about it, I sprang to my feet and barreled into his arms. "She's been through hell tonight, so watch your goddamn mouth," he added, wrapping me up in his arms. "It's going to be okay," Hunter coaxed as he stroked my back and kept his eyes on Noah the entire time. "I promise."
Noah stared hard at Hunter before turning his back on us and returning to his phone call. Muttering a string of curse words under his breath, he stalked out of the kitchen, returning a couple of minutes later.
"Put your coat on," he ordered, brown eyes locked on me. "Max is home. He'll be able to do something for that."
"No." Shaking my head, I tightened my hold on Hunter's waist. "I don’t trust him."
"Well I do," Noah shot back impatiently. "You're going."
"No," I hissed as a frantic feeling of paranoia and fear attacked my body. "I'm not leaving him." I glanced up at Hunter, who was looking at me like he knew this was what had to happen, and the fear inside my body exploded. "I'm not –"
"Jesus Christ, Hope!" Noah roared, losing his temper. "Stop questioning this and do what your goddamn told!" Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and added, "You wanna keep him safe? Me, too. So pull yourself together, sweetheart, and listen to me!"
Biting down hard on my quivering lip, I turned to Hunter and said, "Come back for me, 'kay?"
His blue eyes blazed with heat. Cupping my neck with his hand, he leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to my lips. "You can bet your ass I'm coming back for you."
Everything inside of my body was screaming don’t go, but I released him all the same, putting my trust in Noah as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and guided me across the street to the house I'd spent most of senior year skulking around in.
"I didn’t plan any of this," I heard myself try to explain, voice hoarse, as we stood on the porch steps. "I didn’t want any of this to happen."
"Nobody's blaming you, Hope," Noah replied calmly, tightening his arm around me. "Luck filled me in, and this shit's been brewing long before any of us were born. We're all just collateral fucking damage in a lifelong war between father and son, sweetheart."
"She's going to blame me," I whispered, Teagan's face flashing through my mind, making it hard to breathe. "You're back in this mess and she's going to hate me for it."
I watched as a vein in Noah's neck ticked, but he didn’t respond.
He knew as well as I did that when his wife got wind of this, she was going to kick my ass.
"What the hell are we going to do?" I added, feeling like the weight of the world had landed on our shoulders. "David's still out there. He won't go away, Noah. He's a fucking psychopath..." My voice broke off as I struggled to reign in my turbulent emotions. "He won't stop until he gets what he wants." And he wants me dead. "I'm the target now," I sobbed, trembling violently. "And we all know this doesn’t end until he gets what he wants."
"That's not happening this time," Noah growled. "This time, he's gonna lose."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because he doesn’t know who he's fucking with," Noah shot back angrily. "We'll figure it out," he added, tone soothing. "I promise."
/>
"Okay," I whispered, swallowing down the feeling of dread rising in my stomach.
Noah stepped forward then and knocked on the door.
I wasn’t sure of the response we were going to get, but I trusted Noah.
I had to.
When Max opened the door and saw us standing on his porch, he exhaled a sigh of disappointment. "This is becoming a habit, Messina."
Noah nodded curtly. "Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t need your help."
"There are hospitals in this city, Noah–"
"Your help, Max," Noah repeated, reiterating the word 'your' very clearly.
Max stared hard at my uncle's face for a long moment before nodding stiffly and swinging the door inwards. "Bring her inside."
Cold to the bone, I stepped inside, and when Noah moved to follow me, I stopped him with my hand.
"No," I whispered, eyes burning into his. "I need you to keep him…" I cut myself off, afraid to say too much in front of Teagan's uncle.
Noah, ever the perceptive one, got my drift, and nodded curtly. "Done."
With that, he turned around and jogged back down the porch steps and across the street to my parents' house.
"I thought that little gang of yours was trouble when you were kids," Max said in a resigned tone as he inspected my wounds. "I was wrong; you're all much worse as adults."
Choosing to ignore that particular jibe, I followed Teagan's uncle into his kitchen. Sitting numbly on the chair Max pulled out for me, I wrapped my arms around my stomach and implored my knees to stop bouncing while I watched him disappear from the room.
Max returned a few moments later with his dark leather medical bag in his hands. "Is it starting back up?" he asked. Pulling up a chair in front of me, he sat down and placed the instruments he needed. He pressed some gauze to my face, cleaning my wounds. "You don’t have to tell me. I just…" He cleared his throat and reached for the needle. "I just need to know she's safe."
"Teagan is safe," I whispered, biting down on my lip as the sting of the needle cut through my nerves. "This is nothing like that."
Lie.
Lie.
Big fat lie.
"This is a personal issue," I decided to say, the urge to comfort him strong, but not as strong as the urge to lead him off track and protect Hunter. "My personal issue."
Max arched a brow. "A domestic issue?"
"Something like that," I lied, flinching from the pain.
Max paused and craned his neck back to look at me. "Jordan?"
I shook my head.
"Someone else? Another man?"
I didn’t deny it.
Instead I said, "It won't happen again," praying he wouldn’t push for more that I didn’t have in me to give.
I think deep down inside he knew something was wrong, but he chose to lecture me on the dangers of involving myself with a man who would put his hands on me in anger.
"If a man did this to you then you need to report him," Max continued, not giving up. "If it happens once, you can be guaranteed that it will happen again."
"It won't," I assured him, feeling dead inside. "He won't be hurting me again."
"Your father is going to hit the roof when he sees this!"
"He doesn’t need to know about this," I was quick to shut him down, the thought of my father knowing what happened tonight, and the need to protect him from the actions I knew he would produce in order to sate his thirst for vengeance, was overpowering.
"You can't miss that face," Max grumbled. "And your father is not a stupid man." Sighing, he dropped the needle and picked up some gauze. "He's going to take one look at your face and lose his ever-loving mind."
Of course I already knew that. And it scared the hell out of me, but not nearly as much as the thought of something happening to Hunter did.
I knew what he and Noah were doing while I sat here having my wounds patched up, and the knowledge caused the anxiety festering inside to soar.
I should be there.
I should have gone with him.
Hunter was the one who took his life tonight, but I was the one silently willing him on.
Oh god, I was so completely fucked up.
****
Chapter Seven
Lucky
"You know what needs to happen after this, don’t you?" Noah's voice penetrated the silence as I pulled into the old abandoned quarry and killed the engine.
More than a dozen motorcycles were lined up side by side, joined by a couple of blacked out RV's and one silver Merc.
For the second time in a matter of months, I found myself staring out my windshield at a world I was teetering on the edge of. The body in my trunk assured me that tonight I would have to make the jump.
This wasn’t helping an old friend.
This was personal.
Whether he knew it or not, David Henderson had fucked with the wrong man's woman.
And Hope Carter was my woman.
I didn’t give a fuck about the wedding ring on her finger, or the asshole waiting on her at home. It didn’t poke at my conscience when I was buried inside her and I didn’t care about it now.
Because the woman was mine, and I protected what was mine.
Granddaddy dearest was going to get fucked up.
"You need to put some distance between you and this place until the dust settles," Noah continued to say, drawing me back to the present. He exhaled a heavy sigh before adding, "Between you and her."
He was right.
We both fucking knew it.
I should have been gone hours ago.
I took a deep drag of my cigarette to calm my fucking temper before exhaling. "I know what has to happen, man." I turned to look at him. "And so do you."
"This is a fucking mess, man," Noah added with a heavy sigh. "You're not messy."
Again, he was one hundred percent right.
"I know."
Losing my heart to that woman was going to get me killed.
Fucked up thing was, I didn’t care anymore.
"But you're not going to, are you?" he offered dryly, watching my every move. "You won't leave her?"
I exhaled a cloud of smoke before replying, "Nope."
"You're a fucking lunatic," Noah muttered dejectedly as he unfastened his seatbelt.
"Duly noted. Now grab the bag," I said, pointing to the bag at his feet before climbing out
"What's in it?" Noah asked. "Clothes and shit?"
I shrugged. "See for yourself."
Noah opened the bag and quickly closed it. "Crime of passion, dude?" Shaking his head, he groaned, "Did you have to cut his dick off?"
"Yeah," I growled, walking around to the back of my truck. "I did." Yanking the trunk open, I reached inside and grabbed the rapist's shoulders. "Now, help me burn this fat bastard."
"Always knew you were a grade-A fucking lunatic, man," Noah grumbled, taking a hold of his feet. "This shit just solidifies it."
****
I knew what had to happen tonight, long before Noah placed that phone call.
My ability to predict danger was the reason I had survived to this point in my life. It was also the reason I didn’t bat an eyelid when Mortico Gonzalez and five of his goons circled us.
I could count eight men lurking around the bonfire, watching our interaction, and made a mental note that there was at least another eight out of sight, watching this unfold, eyes trained on their prez, waiting in lay for the signal he would give them.
Dropping the body at his feet, Noah took a defensive stance, and offered a curt nod. "G," he acknowledged, voice low, eyes trained on the main man himself.
The long, greased up ponytail he was sporting was greying with age. The scars on his face, the ones his grizzly beard didn’t cover, were deep and weathered – similar to the leather cut he was sporting with the patch President sewn on the front.
Old school, I noted.
"I told you not to come back here, Messina," Gonzalez said in this thick Spanish accent. "I ga
ve you and your pretty little wife a pass," he continued to say, tone light and almost playful. "And yet here you are, looking for yet another favor." Gonzalez shook his head and threw his hands up. "Aye, aye, aye, this is displeasing."
"You owe me, G," Noah shot back coolly. With a casual shrug, he kicked the body at our feet and said, "This is how you pay your debt."
Gonzalez's face broke out into a huge smile. "I owe you?" When Noah glared back, he threw his head back and laughed loudly. "You are mistaken, my old friend."
I felt Noah tense beside me, but he didn’t respond; he was too busy locked in a stare down with his former boss.
"Show me," Gonzalez finally broke the tension by saying. He nodded to the body wrapped in blankets and duct taped together. "Now."
I stepped forward to do it, but Noah stopped me with his hand. Wordlessly, he knelt in front of the corpse, pulled a knife from his boot and began to cut through the tape. When the blankets were gone, exposing the body, Noah returned to my side. "You gonna help me or not?" he demanded, tone cold, face set in a hard expression. "Either way, I'm getting this done, man. And we are both walking out of here tonight."
Gonzalez stared down at the body with a look of wry amusement etched on his face. "Help you? Yes," he mused, sparking up a cigarette. "Help him?" He took a drag of his cigarette. "Not so much." He exhaled a cloud of smoke and pointed at me. "This here aint your work," he said knowingly, gesturing to the bloodied corpse. "You've always been a clean fighter, Messina, and my generosity does not extend to your comrade."
"Don’t pull that shit with me, G," Noah bit out, jaw clenching. I could feel the heat radiating from his body as he slowly came to the realization of what was about to go down.
What would have to happen.
Meanwhile, I waited for the inevitable.
Noah had a good heart. He hid it well, but it was in there, beneath the muscles and tatts. He had that eternal optimism only a man with his soul intact could possess.
I, on the other hand, didn’t possess either.