Hunte

by Warren, Rie

  “Turn onto your stomach for me.”

  “Why?” I rolled over, peeking at her from the hill of one bicep. “Don’t have any kinky plans for my ass, do you?”

  She swatted me with both hands, and I groaned into my arms. “Not yet. Although your ass is to die for. Tell me about this. Your tat.” Her fingertips trailed down the full back piece, leaving fiery tendrils licking my skin. “Nothing simple as a girl’s name for you, huh?”

  My voice lowered, and I dug my head deeper into my arms. “There was a girl. She died last spring. Because of me.”

  Cold air swept across my body as Jessica kneeled away from me. “Oh. You loved her.”

  I flipped onto my back but kept my eyes carefully guarded. “No. I thought so, but it was . . .” I shrugged. “I realize now it was nothing but an infatuation compared to what I feel for you.”

  “Which is?”

  “The most rare and precious thing. You only have to look at me, smile at me, hold your hand out to me and I am so yours, Jessica. When you give yourself to me, I know there’s nothing better on earth and no one finer than you. I love you so much, but I don’t think I deserve you.”

  “Oh, Hunter.” Her hand slid along my jaw, her palm rasping against the black stubble.

  I kissed her palm and placed it on the bed between us.

  My eyes flicked up. “I meant what I said. I don’t deserve you. You still want to know about the tattoo?”

  The wraithlike figure in the eerie graveyard, the numbers I tried not to think about any longer scattered through the mist. The words Live Another Day now so fucking poignant it felt like my heart was ripping out of my chest.

  “Yes,” she cautiously said.

  “It’s about my past. Not something any woman should ever know about.”

  I swung my legs over the bed and sat, giving her a prime view of my back. Time was running out. There was too much to lose. A life I wanted to live with her and a history no one should have to live through.

  Her hand crashed down on my shoulder and I stiffened in shock.

  “And I am not just some woman, Hunter, and you need to start remembering that. I’m the woman who loves you, and I damn well deserve to know!” Jessica shouted from behind me.

  I swiveled to look at her. Stunned, I sat with my mouth gaping before it tightened closed. Fuck. She loves me. I hadn’t really planned on that. Hoped. Cautiously hoped but never . . . I swallowed roughly, happy. No, more than happy. Fucking joyous, like when I’d held Jack for the first time. But . . .

  “I said I understood and I gave you time and your space, but goddamn you, Hunter. You made me fall in love with you and I’m angry and frightened and just . . . fuck you!” She stood with her hands punched onto her hips. “Well?”

  “I think it’s too late for us, Jessica.” And didn’t that just suck the last bit of air from my lungs. Turning my head away from her, I clenched my fists in my lap.

  I pressed on, my voice hoarse. “See those numbers on the tat? That’s my kill count. The total number of people dead by my hand. That’s the kind of man you’ve fallen in love with.” I remained back to, sitting tall and straight so she could get the full affect of the scary, beautiful, haunting tattoo.

  So she’d have no delusions about me.

  So she’d think twice about loving me because I wasn’t worth it.

  “Oh my God.” Jessica whispered.

  I didn’t move, presenting her with the visual record of all the things I couldn’t say out loud.

  The bed shifted as she sat down. I couldn’t bear to look at her, so I continued in as even a voice as possible. “So I’m not Mister Nice Guy. I’m not boyfriend material. I was a government mercenary. I worked for the good guys to take out the bad guys, but no one will ever know the lengths I’ve gone to or the shit I’ve seen. And when I die—likely in a very ugly manner, possibly very soon—no one will miss me, no one will mourn me, and no one will know I worked to keep America safe from threats.” I frowned, my fingers balling even tighter. The war of my emotions raced around my head—elation that she loved me, and the motherfucking futility of it all.

  “I will,” she whispered.

  “You will what?”

  “I’ll miss you, Hunter Angelo!” She crawled across the bed and turned me toward her. She shook me by my shoulders until I lifted my face to look at her. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’ll mourn you. You are the good guy. You are my guy, my man.”

  “I can’t. I can’t be.” I rose from her bed. Coldness seeped into my bones as soon as I moved away from her warmth. “The guy in charge of that MC Walker and I took down last spring wants me back. Vicente. He’s who I met with tonight. It was his sister killed in the raid. So, I have a choice. Go back to him, for real this time, or die. And I won’t go back.”

  “Are you fucking crazy?” Jumping up from the bed, she punched me on the shoulder. Her tears had dried up leaving only bright anger. “What about Jack? What the fuck do you think this would do to him?”

  “It’s the only way.” Jaw clenched, I stood unmoving, letting her lash out at me with her words and her fists because at least it made me feel something.

  “No. No no no.” Tossing her head back, Jessica glared up at me. “Think of me. Think of Jack!”

  I gripped her hard by her shoulders. “I am thinking about you and Jack. Do you for one second believe I want to live a life without you? Either of you?”

  “Then stand up and fight! Fight for me!”

  Every muscle in my body taut, I scoffed. “Not that easy, sweetheart.”

  “That’s just too damn bad.” Jessica stamped her foot in front of me in full naked glory. “I LOVE YOU, you stubborn jackass. And I care. And I want you to live. For me.”

  “Jessica—”

  “Don’t you dare Jessica me. Call me JB or sweetheart. You’re not getting out of this so easily. You have an entire life to live and so much to give. And Jack . . . oh, babe, he loves you so much.” She rose onto her tiptoes and shoved her face in mine. “So I don’t care what you did that messed you up so much, but I do care about you. And I know you love me so much you can’t help it.”

  “You’re a stubborn little hothead.” I frowned down at her.

  “I am.”

  “And I’m your man.” My hands found her hips, and I pulled her the rest of the way against me, naked bodies, naked need, flush together.

  “You are.”

  “You’ll have to do what I say so I can be sure you’re safe,” I added, already caving in as she towed me down to the bed.

  I struggled to keep up with the internal one-eighty. Even if I could think of a way out of Vicente’s trap, I didn’t have the resources to fight him, and I didn’t want to go into hiding. That would be no life at all. Or I could agree to join him. Just take myself out of Jessica and Jack’s lives.

  That thought was more painful than death itself—seated deep inside me and filling me with dread. For Jessica’s sake, at least for tonight, I was willing to pretend. I didn’t want to hurt her anymore.

  She hadn’t answered me, silently lying down on the bed, holding her arms up to me.

  “So, you’ll do what I say,” I repeated, crawling over her.

  “We’ll see.”

  “Jessica,” I said firmly.

  She pulled me on top of her. “Did you forget I said I love you?”

  I muttered a few colorful curses underbreath. “So I guess I’m staying.”

  “Seems so.”

  My lips found hers. “Mostly because Walker is stinking up my place.”

  “Jackass.”

  “Your jackass,” I mumbled, my lips already on her skin. I slid down her body, licking all the way.

  “Oooh, Hunter!”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “YOU ARE NOT REALLY going.” Walker blocked the doorway.

  “Hell yeah I am. It’s Thanksgiving.”

  “So you want your head served up for dinner?”

  “Rather eat turkey and homemade apple
pie.”

  He cussed me out in every language he could think of. Who knew he spoke Farsi? I did, too.

  When he finished his tirade, I grinned. “Nope. Never been fucked in the ass by a camel. And what is it with everyone wanting a piece of my ass these days?”

  “You are too fucking happy for your own good, my friend.”

  “Scary, isn’t it?” I tugged on my jacket.

  “You’re not worried about Vicente today?” Walker was well aware of my grace period running out.

  He’d watched the days tick by almost as anxiously as me. With four days remaining before the death squad came a calling, I was no closer to formulating a plan to get out of the decision, which entailed death one way or the other. I’d gotten on the computer and drawn up plans of the Cigar Factory warehouse and surrounds from memory, adding in the watchtower crew on the rooftops and the explosives rigged at every entry point.

  Walker and I both agreed it would be a FUBAR situation to walk into, and I remained adamant about no heroic measures from any of our fellow operatives.

  “I’m worried about him every day. And I’m done living my life like that. Besides, Jack is coming too.”

  “Fucking great. Two birds, one stone.”

  “I’ll bring you home some leftovers.” Maybe the promise of food would get him off my back.

  “I don’t want leftovers. I need to get laid. And you’re giving me gray hair.” Walker inspected his jet black braid with a worried frown.

  “I’ll be back by nightfall.” I patted him on the shoulder then headed out.

  My time with Jack and Jessica had been limited c/o Vicente. Jack wasn’t allowed to come over, not while Walker was my roommate. The tables, sideboard, and counters in the living room, kitchen, and our respective bedrooms piled high with ammo, guns, knives, and other assorted weapons of our trade while Vicente’s threat hung over my head.

  I went to Jessica after dark and rode away on my motorcycle before the break of dawn. So when she’d invited me to Thanksgiving at her parents, I’d decided Hell yeah I was doing that, and bringing Jack along, too.

  Mel was okay with it, more than happy in fact not to have to cook a turkey, and to get the day off to herself.

  Yeah. I was in denial. It wasn’t a bad place to be at this late stage in a career like mine. As long as Jack, Jessica, and Mel stayed safe, I didn’t much give a fuck what happened to me. I’d dealt death from my own two hands. I probably deserved it in return. No matter what I’d told Jessica, I didn’t believe there was an out. Vicente had it bad for me, and in a sick way I understood it.

  In the meantime, while I waited out his ultimatum, I was going to eat some damn Thanksgiving dinner and meet my woman’s parents. I wanted to play happy families for a change. I wanted just one day of being normal, and this might be the last chance I got.

  Jack bounced in his seat after I picked him up, bounded up the steps at the Barnes’s house, and jammed his finger on the doorbell.

  “Remember to say Yes sir and No ma’am,” I reminded him, slicking his wild black hair down.

  “But can I say no sir and yes’m, too?”

  “Yeah, I think that’ll work, monster.”

  He looked excited. I probably looked sick to my stomach. Meeting the parents? That was not my MO, and as eager as I was to spend a day with my kid and Jessica, this was completely unchartered territory.

  Jack tugged at his neck-choker. Mel had dressed him in a little man suit complete with a tie. “I can’t breathe, Daddy.”

  I knew the feeling. “So take it off. I don’t care.”

  “But you’re wearing a suit.”

  I was. And clearly for the first time in front of Jessica because when she swung the door open her mouth dropped open, too.

  “Going to invite us in?” I asked after she’d gawked at me for a reasonable amount of time.

  She stepped back only to be hip-checked by a younger JB version. “Oh my gawd, Jessie! You didn’t say he was total eye-candy!”

  After a quick scan of her younger sister, I couldn’t take my eyes off Jessica anymore than she could me. She wore a soft clinging sweater dress that rode high above her knees and low along her breasts.

  Our staring only came to a stop when Jack barreled into her legs, throwing both his arms around her. “Miss Barnes!”

  She bent to kiss his cheek, and her dress dipped low. My eyes followed. The teen redux of Jessica stood to the side, her hand to her mouth, her eyes on me.

  “Mommy! You gotta see this!” she yelled.

  And then there were three. Mrs. Barnes appeared in the entryway, dark chestnut colored hair flouncing around her face.

  She stopped. Fanned her face with a potholder that was burnt around the edges and had seen better days. Then yanked the younger girl’s ear. “Behave. He’s a guest.”

  “Ooookay. When you stop drooling, I will.”

  Had I thought this would be a normal family get together earlier? Scratch that.

  “My sister Qwynn, my mom Della. Mom, sis, this is Hunter Angelo.” Jessica made the intros. “And this of course is my prize pupil, Jack.”

  “But I’m not a pupae,” Jack exclaimed with a miniature frown marring his forehead.

  Jessica laughed. “Of course not.” She looked up from Jack, explaining, “We just finished our unit on metamorphosis in school.” Then she bent to kiss the crown of his head, and the sight of the two of them together nearly undid me. “As for you, I said pupil. It means student.”

  “And I get prize too?” He jumped on his tiptoes.

  After we all laughed, I turned to Della and Qwynn. “Pleasure to meet you both.” I shook their hands then leaned across the top of Jack’s head to brush my lips against Jessica’s. I lowered my voice and spoke against her ear, “And I don’t know about the turkey, but you look good enough to eat.”

  Her eyelashes fluttered like black butterfly wings, and her pink lips tipped up in a smile. I glanced aside to find Della and Qwynn staring, slack-jawed.

  “Go tell your father Hunter’s here.” Della recovered first.

  “DADDY! New guy is here!” Qwynn shouted.

  “Do you want him to murder Hunter?” Della asked her younger daughter.

  Qwynn shrugged in response. “I don’t see why Jessie gets to have all the fun.”

  Jessica came to stand beside me, taking my hand in hers. I wasn’t surprised to feel my palm was a little damp. I’d never met a girl’s parents before—well, besides Mel’s but that was different—and then there’d been that little mention of murder.

  The man who stalked down the staircase and halted in front of me had swirling brown hair turning shades of white in patches, lively gray-brown eyes, and gunnery sergeant lips.

  “New boy!” Mr. Barnes barked out.

  I saluted Mr. Barnes without even thinking about it although I was anything but a boy. It had something to do with the firm force of his voice. He’d clearly been in the military. “Hunter Angelo, sir. Pleased to meet you.”

  “Hmm.” After leaving me hanging a good half-minute, he held out one hand slightly gnarled with arthritis. I grasped it in a steady grip. As he applied more pressure, a flicker of amusement lightened his eyes, making them almost hazel. “Tank Barnes.”

  “Oh, shoot. No one calls you Tank anymore.” Jessica’s mom grinned at me. “His name’s Garrett.”

  Tank fit him completely. Maybe I’d stick with that since I had the feeling he was considering steamrolling right over me.

  His eyes lightened even further, glancing toward Della. “Well, you still call me Tank, sometimes.”

  “Oh my gawd! So embarrassing!” Qwynn’s face turned bright red. “Do you have to? In front of hot new guy?”

  After relaxing his grip, Tank continued to scrutinize me, and my knees almost turned to Jell-O. Then he harrumphed loudly and retired to the living room.

  The rest of us stood in silence a moment or two before he bellowed, “JESSICA!”

  She walked sedately toward the living room, th
rowing a wink at me over her shoulder.

  “And bring the son with you.” Her dad’s voice softened abruptly.

  Jessica held out her hand for Jack who scrambled after her. He wasn’t daunted at all. I wished I could say the same for myself.

  Della grabbed my arm and jerked me after her. “In the kitchen with you.”

  She turned to Qwynn who trotted behind us. “And you? Set the table.”

  “Mooom. No fair you get to monopolize the hottie.”

  Della merely lifted her eyebrows into an arch and snapped her fingers at her younger daughter, and apparently that was the end of that. Qwynn stomped off in the opposite direction, muttering none-too-quietly.

  “That child. Be the death of me,” Della also muttered. “She and Jessica couldn’t be more different. Aside from their looks and that’s where the trouble always starts.” She fluffed her hair with a girlish smile. “I should know. Had Tank chasing after me from one end of Charleston Air Force Base to the other.”

  “Both of you were in the military?”

  “I’m a nurse. He was in COT when I met him. And I just didn’t have the time for any old enlisted man.”

  Commissioned Officer Training. I knew the lingo well. I turned my laugh into a cough when she slapped me lightly on the arm.

  “He’s a doctor of course, but we’re no longer with the Air Force. We didn’t reenlist when I got pregnant with Jessica. We wanted to put down strong roots.” Della opened the oven door, the mouthwatering aroma of turkey wafting out. She peered over her shoulder at me. “Not afraid of woman’s work, are you?”

  “No. But I’m not all that good at it.” Thirty seconds later I found myself minus my suit coat, with my shirtsleeves rolled up, and elbows deep in the soapsuds in the sink scrubbing all the pots that had been used to prepare the meal because the dishwasher was already full and running.

  Della puttered around adjusting this and tasting that. “Tank means no harm, you know. But Jessica’s never brought a boy—a man—home before.”

  That made me very, very happy. “I’ve never been brought home before either. So I guess that makes us even.”