Altered: Carter Kids #6

by Chloe Walsh

  "Respect is earned, Messina," Gonzalez rasped in his thick Spanish drawl. "And this bitch?" he gestured to me and sneered. "Pretty white boy with no patch. No honor," he spat on the ground, "has earned nothing."

  "He's with me," Noah snarled, temper rising.

  "I don’t give two fucks," Gonzalez sneered. "You know the rules around here, Messina. He earns it or he dies."

  His words caused a slow smile to crawl across my face.

  "You got nothing to say, Bolillo?" Gonzalez taunted, his attention fixed on me now.

  I'd known exactly what would go down tonight.

  I was well acquainted with the fucked-up side of humanity.

  This wasn’t my first rodeo.

  I arched a brow, taking his measure and said, "Plenty." Reaching behind my back, I yanked my hoodie off and rolled my arms out. "We can talk when this is done."

  A slow, predatory smile spread across his face. "Aye," Gonzalez chucked darkly. "We can talk when it is done." With that, the old prez raised a hand. "If you survive it."

  "The fuck you doing?" Noah growled. When I didn’t respond, he shoved me hard in the chest. "I was handling it, dammit!"

  "And now I'm handling it," I replied, tone low enough so only he could hear me, while I kept my eyes locked on the three men stalking towards me. "This is what has to happen, man. Now walk away."

  "Like hell," Noah grumbled, falling into stance beside me. "You've got a goddamn death wish, Luck."

  "Trust me," I growled.

  I saw the pain flash in his eyes, the defiance, as he tried to figure this out.

  Tilting my head to the side, I stared hard at my best friend. "Trust me."

  Finally, Noah shook his head and released a growl before slowly backing away, allowing Gonzalez's men to walk him back to the truck.

  Turning my attention back to the three men flocking me, I reached into the pocket clip and pulled my blade.

  Smirking, I said, "It's show time, boys."

  ****

  Chapter Eight

  Lucky

  "You could do well with us, Bolillo. Rise quickly. Make some real good money," Gonzalez announced as he had his men toss the body of David's henchman into the fire – along with the body of one of his own.

  The other two were wounded, but nothing life threatening.

  I had a point to make tonight. Not an enemy.

  Taking out any more than that would have been a mistake.

  I had earned his respect tonight by taking out one of his men, and by sparing two of them, I'd shown him respect.

  In a world as fucked up as the one we lived in, respect was all a man had.

  I stood alone and motionless, watching as the fire engulfed the flesh of the men whose lives had ended prematurely at my hands, as the flames swallowed up my secrets.

  My crimes.

  When I didn’t respond, Gonzalez waved a hand towards the fire and said, "This man disrespected you, no?"

  "Something like that."

  "Will there be more?" he asked.

  I took a deep drag from my smoke and exhaled a heavy sigh. "I'm counting on it."

  "People like you and me?" I felt Gonzalez's beefy hand clamp down on my shoulder. "We don’t do so good in the real world. That's why we gotta make a world of our own." He squeezed my shoulder. "Join us."

  Shrugging, I tossed my cigarette into the fire and turned to face him. "You want me?"

  Gonzalez nodded once and I could see the respect burning bright in his black eyes, the excitement at the prospect of fresh meat.

  "I'm not interested in joining your brethren," I stated, calm and pokerfaced. "But I have a proposition that may interest you – mutually beneficial, of course."

  Gonzalez raised a brow. "I'm listening."

  Accepting the cigarette Gonzalez offered me, I sparked up, reveling in the burning sensation that spread through my chest. "The way I see it, you're a man down and seriously lacking in the heavy department."

  "You stand here after I show you respect and insult me?" he responded, brows raised. "Bold move, Bolillo."

  "You hear an insult. I hear an accurate observation, " I countered calmly.

  Gonzalez rubbed his bearded jaw, mulling over my words, before finally nodding. "Go ahead."

  Composed and pokerfaced, I kept my eyes trained on the fire as I spoke, careful to conceal the truth that I needed him a helluva lot more than he needed me. I had no problem getting my hands bloodied. It wasn’t an issue for me. Hadn't been for a long fucking time now.

  The problem I had was that there was one of me, and fuck knows how many of David. I couldn’t protect her and hunt him down without help. Without a gang.

  When I was finished unveiling the plan I had been mapping out since walking into the house on Thirteenth Street tonight, I turned to look at him. "Do we have a deal?"

  "You know what, Bolillo, I think we do," Gonzalez chuckled as he reached his hand out to me. "This is a huge motherfucking risk," he added. "For you."

  "What's life without a little risk?" was all I replied.

  "Aye," he laughed. "You can expect my call."

  As I shook his hand, making a deal with the devil himself, I couldn't fight off the disturbing feeling that I was signing my own death certificate.

  "Maybe when this is all done, you'll reconsider joining us," Gonzalez mused, releasing my hand. "When you're balls deep in dead presidents and high off the power."

  "Money and power," I mused, taking another drag of my smoke. "It doesn’t interest me."

  "Money and power are the only things that interest men like us," he replied knowingly.

  I shrugged. "Not when the man is dead inside."

  Gonzalez let out a low chuckle. "Something tells me there is pussy involved."

  "How'd you figure that?"

  "Pussy," Gonzalez mused. "It's the only thing that can breathe life into a dead man."

  How fucking right he was…

  ****

  "Jesus fucking Christ, Lucky!" Noah muttered along with half a dozen or so unintelligible cuss words when I joined him back at the truck.

  "It's done," I stated calmly as I shoved my key into the ignition and cranked the engine. "End of."

  "End of what?" Noah demanded, turning in his seat to face me. "End of you? Because that's what happens to the men that fall into bed with them!" Glaring at me, he hissed, "Tell me you didn’t make a deal with Gonzalez?"

  Pulling a pack of Marlboros out of my jeans pocket, I dragged a smoke out with my teeth and sparked up. Tossing the pack on the dashboard, I wiped my bloody hands on my jeans before retrieving the smoke from between my lips. "It's done."

  "You made a deal with the devil right there, asshole." Shaking his head, Noah reached for the pack of smokes on my dashboard and quickly sparked up a smoke. "The fuck were you thinking, man?"

  "I was thinking some piece of shit tried to rape my woman!" I roared, losing all hold on my temper. "I was thinking that the prick that fathered you needs to be dealt with once and for all. I need Gonzalez to make that happen. " Slamming my hand on the steering wheel, I strived to compose myself, but couldn’t manage it. "I was thinking smart, Noah. With my goddamn head. Like I always do!"

  "This ain't your head talking, Lucky," Noah barked. "This is your heart, man. Your heart is clouding your judgement here. And your heart is gonna get you killed!"

  "You saw her face tonight!" The memory of Hope lying on that kitchen floor beneath that bastard flooded my mind, bringing with it every drop of poison and hatred inside of my body. "Did you see what that piece of shit did to her body? Tell me what the fuck you would have done differently had that been your wife on the other side of that knife?"

  "Nothing," Noah conceded, jaw ticking. "Problem is, man, she's not your wife."

  "Doesn’t matter," I hissed through clenched teeth. "Still love her like she was."

  "Think she'll still love you?" he shot back. "When you're drowning under the weight of your conscious? When the blood on your hands makes you unreco
gnizable to the people who care about you most? Because that's what's gonna happen, man. If you go through with this."

  I thought about his words for the longest time before taking a drag of my smoke and saying, "Someone has to be the bad guy."

  "Goddammit, Luck –" Noah began to say, but I cut him off.

  "I've been keeping your ass alive for years," I growled. "Do you think I haven't thought this through?"

  "I’m not talking about –"

  "Name one time in all the years you've known me that I've done something on impulse without thinking it through?" I demanded. "Do you think I haven't thought through every possible scenario and possibility? I know how this has to end, man, and I'm gonna get it done!" When he didn’t reply, I continued, "Trust me when I tell you this is the only way. The only play I have. It has to happen."

  "And if it ends up getting you killed?" Noah deadpanned. "What then?"

  Exhaling a cloud of smoke, I threw the truck into gear and tore off, tires spinning on the dust and gravel. "Then I die."

  ****

  Chapter Nine

  Hope

  "I wish you would reconsider going to the hospital," Max grumbled, rubbing away a bead of sweat from his brow with his forearm. He placed the needle back on the little tray, having finally finished sewing my skin back together and frowned at his work. "As it stands you'll have a scar, but if I had the facilities I could –"

  "I'll be fine," I whispered, not wanting to think about it. "Thank you."

  "Do you understand how close you came to hemorrhaging?" he demanded then. "An inch lower and this could be a very different outcome!"

  "Yeah," I whispered. "I know."

  "You have thirty-six sutures on your face, Hope," Max shot back, clearly unimpressed with my less than stellar response. "Thirty-six!"

  He didn’t need to keep reminding me.

  My face was held together by thick black stitching crisscrossing from the highest point of my cheekbone to the lowest point of my jaw. With a scar curved like the metal wiring inside a bra, I knew what I looked like.

  A monster.

  "I know, Max," I choked out, my emotions threatening to get the better of me.

  "Who did this to you, Hope?" Max finally asked, his voice showing the tiniest hint of cracking. "If you tell me, I can help you in the right way."

  I opened my mouth, ready to spout some lie to appease the paternal instincts inside the man, but was saved by the knock on the door that distracted us both.

  Seconds later, we were greeted by the sight of Noah as he stormed through the front door, not waiting to be invited inside, with Hunter hot on his heels.

  The moment I laid eyes on him, my heart jackknifed in my chest.

  The feeling of dread that had settled in the pit of my stomach when I walked away from him tonight evaporated into thin air.

  He was okay.

  They both were.

  But they were arguing.

  Over what, I couldn’t make out, but it was clear by his body language that Noah was mad as hell right now, and his anger was directed entirely at Hunter.

  Ignoring Noah's furious glare, Hunter shoved Noah's hand off his shoulder and stalked into the kitchen, halting only when Max stood in the kitchen doorway, blocking his path to me.

  I looked to Teagan's uncle who was glaring at Hunter like he was the biggest piece of shit on the planet.

  It was then I realized that Max thought Hunter was responsible for my injuries.

  Nothing could have been further from the truth, but knowing the truth was so much worse than his unspoken assumption, I kept my mouth shut.

  "I didn’t invite you into my home," Max stated grimly as he pushed his glasses onto his nose. "So I suggest you do yourself a favor and leave."

  "Appreciate what you did tonight, Doc," Hunter replied calmly. "But I'm not leaving without her." Pausing, Hunter pointed to where I was sitting for emphasis. "So I suggest you do yourself a favor and step aside," he added, attention returned to the ageing doctor. "And we all live happily ever after."

  "Men like you make me sick," Max snarled. "Thinking you're invincible. Going around hitting on wom –"

  "Whoa, Max," Noah broke the tension by saying. "You've got the wrong end of the stick here, man." Stepping between both men, and potentially saving Teagan's uncle from a beating, Noah clamped his arm on Max's shoulder before leading him out of harm's way, leaving an open path to me. "We'll talk outside."

  When both men had disappeared from sight, Hunter walked in achingly slowly, stopping midway in the kitchen, his entire focus on me.

  There was twice as much blood on his clothes since I left him in my parent's kitchen tonight. The busted lip and the bruised cheekbone he was sporting assured me that much more carnage had occurred since then.

  More secrets.

  More death.

  Standing tall in the middle of the kitchen, Hunter tilted his head to one side. "Hope." His voice was gruff and raspy as he crooked his finger and said, "Come here, baby."

  I willed myself to feel the emotions required to make sense of the world I was standing inside – to find the common sense that would assure me that I needed to run.

  I couldn’t.

  That part of me, my conscience and upstanding moral fiber, had died on that kitchen floor, and the only thing that made sense now was the urgent, desperate need I had inside of my heart to be with him.

  In every sense of the word.

  Like a skittish foal, I scrambled clumsily towards him, not stopping until my arms were around his waist, head bowed in shame.

  Hunter sighed heavily, and then I felt his hand close over the base of my throat, his thumb trailing up and down the side of my neck.

  Having a man's hand pressed to such a vulnerable part of my body should have terrified me.

  Instead, it was disturbingly thrilling.

  He wasn’t hurting me.

  He was claiming me.

  His other hand moved to cup the back of my head and I felt myself sag against him.

  "Look at me," he ordered gruffly.

  I shook my head and stared down at the blood on his boots. "I can't."

  Knotting his fingers in my hair, he gently pulled my head back, forcing me to crane my neck up and look at him.

  With my fingertips digging into his hips, I forced myself to open my eyes and look at him.

  Exposed and vulnerable, I braced myself for the horror I was sure I would see in his eyes.

  It never came.

  I watched him watch me, taking in every stitch, cut, and bruise on my face.

  Finally, when I couldn’t take the intensity in his blue eyes a second longer, he lowered his forehead to mine and kissed a hard, territorial kiss to my lips.

  The heat from his mouth burned a hole straight through me, and in this moment, I drew strength from his presence.

  "What happened?" I forced myself to ask, unsure whether I truly wanted to know, but needing to hear it all the same. "The body?"

  "It's taken care of," he replied, tone gruff. "We're in the clear."

  An immeasurable amount of relief coursed through my body.

  We're in the clear.

  In the clear.

  We had so much that we needed to talk about, so many things to clear up, stories to line up, but when he looked at me like that, I lost all track of reality.

  "Come on." Hunter kissed me hard once more before stepping back and holding his hand out for me. "Let's get out of here."

  Without a second thought, I placed my hand in his and let him guide me out of the house.

  When we stepped onto the front porch, and were faced with Max and Noah, I watched as Hunter stretched his free hand out to Max.

  "I understand the position we put you in tonight," he said. "You didn’t have to help us. But you did, and I'm grateful for it."

  "Yes, well, I didn’t do it for you," Max grumbled. "Her father's an old friend of mine."

  "Your motives don’t matter to me," Hunter replied curtly.
"I still owe you."

  Max looked between me and Hunter for the longest moment, before releasing a weary sigh. "Have whatever happened to her tonight never happen again, and that will be recourse for me."

  Hunter nodded stiffly. "Don’t worry. It won't."

  "Words are cheap," was all Max replied before turning around and disappearing back into the house.

  "You calmed down yet?" Hunter asked Noah, who was still scowling at him.

  "Nope," Noah shook his head. "Not one fucking bit." His words said one thing, but the resigned tone of voice in which he spoke them told a different story. "Jackass."

  Hunter smirked. "You'll get over it." He threw his arm over my shoulder and tucked me into his side. "You ready, HC?"

  "Yeah." Wrapping my arm around Hunter's waist, I melded my body to his as we walked down the porch steps. "I'm ready."

  "Stay safe, asshole," Noah called after us.

  "Always," Hunter called back, tightening his arm around me as he led us to his black Ford Explorer parked across the street.

  "Where are we going?" I asked when we reached the passenger side of his truck.

  He unlocked his truck and yanked open the passenger door, gesturing me inside. "I'm taking you home."

  "To your place?" was my immediate response. "Because I don’t want to be without you tonight." I knew how desperate I sounded and I didn’t give a damn. It was what it was; a messy, clusterfuck of a night, but one I had every intention of ending with him.

  With shaky hands, I closed the truck door and pressed my back to the cool metal, using my body to make my feelings as clear as possible. "You're taking me home with you, right?"

  I wasn’t going back to Denver tonight.

  Not when my home was standing right in front of me.

  I watched as Hunter rubbed a hand over his stubbly jaw, eyes locked on me. "I said I was taking you home, didn’t I?" Closing the space between us, he pressed his big body to mine, hips pinning me to the metal, and growled, "Do you have any idea how much I love you?"