Men of Mercy: The Complete Story

by Cross, Lindsay

  Fierce protectiveness welled up inside her and she embraced the emotion. Hunter was the size of a giant and more than capable of defending himself, but that didn't mean he didn't need someone to watch out for him.

  He squeezed her tightly and she snuggled deeper into his embrace. Despite the wounds of his past, he hadn’t stopped wanting her even though he’d thought she was a cheater.

  Something inside her splintered open. "I can't believe you still wanted me after you thought I cheated on you."

  Hunter pulled her up and lifted her on top of his chest. His eyes had deepened from black to obsidian. She had no idea what he was thinking. But she still hurt. For him. He caught her first tear on his cheek.

  "Honey, don't cry. That was a long time ago. Let's live in the present. I don't want to think about it anymore. I just want you." His hands cradled her head to pull her down so he could kiss her forehead.

  "I want you too. I missed you so much. I could barely get out of bed after you first left." The words spilled out as fast as her tears, and Hunter caught every one.

  "Shhh. Let's not talk about the past. It's over. We're here together. Now. And I intend to enjoy every second." His gentle words and touch were like a safety blanket.

  "Okay. Let’s live in the now." Her stomach grumbled at that exact moment and she smiled down at the man who had managed to make her feel again. "Too bad we don't have food."

  Hunter's answering grin filled his entire face. "Actually, while you were packing, I swam back down to the kitchen and grabbed some canned food."

  Evie clutched his face and planted a big kiss on his lips. "I knew I loved you, Hunter James."

  Chapter 25

  Hunter looked right into her eyes and forced himself to say, "I love you too."

  Evie's smile disappeared. The golden light flickering from the fire highlighted the paleness his words caused. He'd done worse things in his life, but none of those things had felt this bad.

  "Hunter...I was just playing... I don't think we're ready for that yet." She tried to stand, but he held her tight. He'd been dealt his cards, played his hand, and now he had to stick to his bluff.

  "You weren't playing any more than I was. Admit it, Evie. You love me too," Hunter whispered, the harsh sound of his voice grating across his own skin.

  "I...need to think." Evie pushed against his chest again, and this time he let her stand.

  He followed her up, fighting—and failing—to tear his gaze from her perfect breasts. She presented him with her back, taking his choice away. With the light from the fire, he finally got a chance to look at her. Really look at her. He didn't know at what point his dick had become his brain, but his gaze fell south, straight to her incomparable ass.

  It screeched to a halt at her hip. The light illuminated a red puckered scar, just above her right butt cheek.

  Hunter took a step forward, focusing on the scar. When he realized what he was seeing, he started to shake with anger. "What the fuck is that?"

  M.C. The initials were branding-iron clear.

  Pain nearly bent him forward. Nearly took him to his knees. "He did that to you?" Hunter pointed at her hip. "That goddamn son of a bitch fucking branded you?"

  Fury engulfed him, demolishing any fixation on her naked flesh. Destroying any thoughts about lying and love and loss.

  His ability to maintain any myth of detachment went up in smoke. There would be no nonchalant assassination for Marcus Carvant. No smooth knife to the neck. That motherfucker was as good as butchered meat.

  Evie spun around, her eyes wide with confusion. "What? Another gator?"

  Hunter grabbed her shoulder, spun her, and pointed at her scar. "That, Evie. How did you get that scar?"

  Evie turned to face him again, her eyes wide with fear. She held up her hands, palms flat, as if she could keep him back. "It's nothing. I swear. Just an accident. I fell." She took a few steps away, but Hunter stalked toward her, ignoring the gravel digging into his bare feet. Her face lost all color, and tension filled the air between them like the buzz of insects. He'd seen that kind of fear before. But not in Evie's eyes.

  His mother used to say the same thing to the cops whenever a neighbor called to report his father for domestic abuse.

  Suddenly everything made sense. The baggy clothes. The distance. "He’s dead."

  Any doubt he’d harbored of Evie’s willing involvement with Marcus ceased to exist.

  Evie's entire body jerked. "Hunter, this is crazy. Let's get dressed, find somewhere to make camp. We can talk then."

  Every word she said might as well have been a knife thrown into his chest. Her entire stance screamed escape. She kept backing up, her body tight. Defensive.

  He didn't see her nudity anymore. He couldn't tear his gaze from her blue eyes and the dark knowledge she was trying to hide behind them.

  "You can keep running from me, Evie, but I'm not going to give up. I've seen scars like those before. I've got my own." Hunter kicked his leg around and pointed to his calf, where a smaller version of the scorpions on his back resided.

  He couldn't get a tattoo of the initials TF-S. No one on their team could, on the off-chance someone would recognize the initials. But the person who’d branded Evie hadn’t cared about recognition. He clearly thought he was above punishment.

  Hunter knew he was making a mistake, but he grabbed her arm and spun her around. He held her to him, traced the initials with his fingers. Evie sobbed and jerked away, her anguish a living, breathing thing between them.

  This time she didn't back away. She didn't hold her hands up to ward him off.

  She ran.

  "Evie. Wait." Hunter took off after her. The night, the clouds, the levee, it all disappeared. She was the only thing that mattered. Hunter ran with every ounce of willpower he possessed.

  He caught up to her and grabbed her arm, but Evie screamed and kicked like a madwoman.

  "Evie, stop. Stop fighting me." Hunter carried her back to their blanket. Stood her in front of him and didn't let go. Her hysterical sobbing wrenched his heart, and her harsh breathing and flushed cheeks painted a clear picture of terror.

  "Evie, I'm sorry." Hunter fought to keep his voice cool. Calm. Gentle. When all he could do was think about killing Marcus.

  "Please, honey. I shouldn't have yelled. I know that. Please don't be mad. I just need you to talk to me. Tell me the truth. Tell me what happened."

  Evie's gaze dropped to his hands and Hunter realized he’d squeezed harder with each word. He forced his fingers to loosen their grip, but he didn't let go. He knew she would run if he did.

  "I told you. It's nothing." She kept her gaze down, avoiding him.

  "Evie..." A light appeared in his peripheral vision and he yanked his gaze to the right. Headlights. With a set of four-bar lights across the top.

  Shit.

  "Evie, get dressed. Someone's coming." Hunter dropped her arms and grabbed his jeans.

  Evie hurriedly yanked on her shirt and grabbed her jeans. "Oh my God. That's Brown.”

  The truck was coming in fast. He must have come back, saw her flooded house, and kept going. A large trail of dust was visible even in the dark.

  Hunter pulled on his boots. "Are you sure?"

  The truck moved at high speed, the tires spinning around the last curve before the straight stretch leading to where he and Evie stood. In not much time at all, the vehicle would be right on top of them.

  "Yes. That’s his truck." Evie buttoned her jeans and yanked on her boots.

  Hunter grabbed the backpack and Evie's hand and took off down the side of the levee, away from the river. Their fire and blanket might as well be a beacon; there was no way Brown hadn't seen them.

  Tall grass slapped Hunter’s jeans and a flock of moths exploded out of the weeds as Evie and Hunter ran through them. The truck squalled to a stop and gravel flew. Crunched. Hunter and Evie broke into the tree line paralleling the levee.

  A door slammed. Then another one. "Evangeline Videl, you’d
better get back here."

  Hunter ignored Brown's shout and continued to run. The trees grew thick, the vines and underbrush thicker. Razor vines slashed at his chest and jeans.

  "Look here, Sheriff. The lady left us her underwear. Think she's trying to tell us something?" Another voice Hunter didn't recognize, but he would bet money it was one of the shithead deputies he'd seen at the bar.

  "Oh no," Evie gasped behind him.

  "Ignore them. Keep moving," Hunter commanded, and then cut left, making sure to vary their trail. He knew these woods. This levee. He was pretty sure they were only about a mile from Silo Farm.

  "I saw 'em run down here. Look, here are their tracks," the strange voice said.

  "Good," Brown said, his voice pitched low. "Hunter, I know you’re out there too. Surrender yourself and we won't hurt the girl."

  Hunter pulled Evie to a stop, positioned her against a wide tree trunk, and listened. Leaves crunched about a hundred yards behind them. He indicated for Evie to keep still and leaned to the side, scanning the woods. He didn't have to look hard. Two flashlight beams stood out clearly through the trees.

  "Last chance, James. I know you’re out there. I know you have our girl. You should know we have guns. And spotlights. And we will find you." Brown continued his forward progress, walking blind, headed in the opposite direction.

  They needed to move, now, if they wanted to elude the sheriff and his deputy.

  * * *

  Evie’s breath sawed in and out of her chest, feeling like shards of glass ripping up and down her throat. Was she really this out of shape? Geez, perhaps a workout regimen would be worth getting up early for after all. Searing pain shot through her left side and she slapped her hand over the area. “Cramp."

  Hunter grabbed her arm and yanked her forward. "Move it."

  As much as she wanted to fall to the ground and curl into a ball, she complied. The one thing stronger than the pain was her need to survive.

  "I'd like to keep my arm in its socket," she snapped. Great. Sarcasm. She needed Hunter to live. After all, it wasn't like she'd taken Survival 101. The closest she ever got to real hiking was a long walk up the stairs to the Wharf. And even then she had a freaking rail for support.

  Now all she had was two-hundred pounds of raw strength and determination pulling her forward like the little engine that could—on steroids.

  "Then you should keep your mouth shut and keep your attention focused on running." Hunter pulled harder.

  Evie leaped to keep up. The heat stole what little oxygen supply she had available. Mud sucked her boots down and caked on an extra ten pounds, easy. Whatever water she'd managed to consume earlier had sweated out hours ago. If it weren't for the ninety percent humidity, she would have shriveled up like a dried cornhusk.

  A branch slapped her in the face and she sucked in a breath at the sting. Tree, one. Evie, zero.

  They kept up a steady run, weaving in and out of the tall pines and ash trees. Evie ducked and dodged, trying to mimic Hunter's moves, but the lack of light combined with their fast pace ensured she hit every possible limb. Thorns and rough foliage snagged her skin and jeans. The moon peeked out every few minutes, casting a spare amount of light on the densely packed leaves and mud beneath their feet.

  A sharp retort sounded from behind them and Evie heard a shrill whine buzz past her ear.

  "Shit." Hunter yanked her to the ground and threw his massive body over hers.

  "Was that what I think it was?" Evie struggled for calm, but her tone was sharp.

  "Hush." Hunter covered her mouth with his hand, inadvertently shoving dirt between her lips.

  She tried to give him her go-to-hell face, but her heart was too busy trying to pound its way out of her chest. Her blood thumped in her ears so loudly she was surprised the entire forest didn’t echo with the force of it.

  Hunter shoved her backpack under a thicket and flattened even more on top of her, shifting so that his chest was smashing her into the soft earth and his hips nestled between her spread legs. He was crushing her. And instead of getting angry, she could only focus on how well he fit between her thighs.

  She’d lost it. She needed to get with it. She was running for her life, through the woods in the dark, and yet she was busy panting after Hunter. No wonder the dumb blondes always ended up dead in movies.

  A limb snapped and Hunter’s head jerked up. Her heart stopped. That's when she heard it. Two men, breathing hard, no more than ten feet away.

  "I swear they went this way. Can't miss that blonde hair out here."

  Evie’s eyes widened and she tried to cover her hair. There was no mistaking that back woods voice. Roger Clemens, Brown’s top deputy, a man known for his tracking skills. Hunter kept her arms pinned and shook his head for her to be still.

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Why hadn't she covered her hair? Put mud in it or something?

  "Shut up, dumb ass. You wanna let them know where we are?" Brown's harsh whisper grated across her skin.

  The pair stopped a few feet away. Evie held her breathe. She could see their boots beneath the thicket separating them. Fear crawled through her veins. She should be at home. Curled up one the couch with Rooster and a movie.

  Not here. Not in this horror show.

  "You hear anything?" Roger said.

  Brown gave no response. The night bugs went silent, no longer providing the small camouflage of sound.

  Her lungs burned. She couldn't hold her breath much longer. Something crashed through the woods in the distance.

  "Marcus wants Evie alive. Don't shoot unless you’re sure it’s not her. Got it?"

  “Got it,” Roger said. The men took off left, perpendicular to their previous direction. And, more importantly, away from Hunter and Evie.

  Once they were too far to hear, Evie expelled her breath and choked for air. Hunter stood and pulled her to her feet. "We have to run. It's our only chance. I want you to stay right behind me. If we can get to Silo Farms, we can wire a truck and get to town."

  "Silo Farms shut down years ago," Evie said.

  Hunter gave her a dark look. "Our other option is to hide in the woods and pray my brother miraculously figures out we’re being chased, then finds us in the middle of nowhere before Brown and Roger do."

  Well when he put it so sweetly. "I just wanted you to know."

  "Got it. Now are you going to trust me to get us out of here alive or do you have a better plan?"

  "Did a stick wedge in your ass or something?" After everything she’d been through in the last twenty-four hours, the last thing she needed was his attitude.

  Hunter's jaw clenched. "The only thing wedged in my ass is you. Believe me."

  "I thought you military guys were supposed to have that whole knight-in-shining-armor thing going for you. You know, rescuing damsels in distress, and all that." Evie looked up at him through her mud-encrusted lashes. Temptress she was not. Hillbilly queen—definitely.

  Hunter grabbed her arms and yanked her to him. Electricity sizzled between them. "Damsels in distress don't smell like stale dirt. And they also don't sass their heroes."

  "Yeah, what else, Lancelot?"

  "They reward their heroes with a kiss." Hunter’s words shocked her into silence a second before he crushed his lips to hers. Evie fought to hold on to her logic. Fought hard. Then his tongue slipped between her lips and her logic went on a trip to wonderland.

  Her nipples tightened against his chest and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down for more. Just a little taste. That's all she needed. Just a taste.

  * * *

  The fear he’d seen in Evie’s eyes while they were lying silent on the ground, inches from discovery and death, had once again awakened his need to protect her. To shelter her. To rescue her. He was freaking Lancelot reincarnated.

  Now he felt her lips and the moist heat of her tongue and he wanted to strip her down and back her up to the nearest tree. But he couldn't.

  Hunter broke the kis
s even though his dick was waging a battle to bust through the zipper of his pants. He took a step back. He had to get them to safety. If it were just him, he would circle back and take out the bad guys. But Evie was vulnerable. And she was the target.

  "I know you can’t keep your hands off me, but we gotta get out of here," Hunter said.

  Evie punched his arm and he couldn’t hold back a grin. "You kissed me,” she said.

  “Your come-fuck-me look was calling my name, sweetheart."

  "You...you..."

  "Angel?" Hunter supplied, enjoying the angry flush spreading across her cheeks.

  "Devil."

  "Yours to command."

  Evie rolled her eyes. "You have any idea which direction we need to go?"

  "I can track a man though the desert without a compass. I'm pretty sure I can navigate us through these woods."

  "Prove it." Evie turned and took a step. A stick snapped and Hunter grabbed her around the waist before she could move again. Her shoulder had caught a small tree limb. No big deal. Unless you were being tracked. Animals broke tree limbs all the time, but much lower to the ground. The branch Evie had snapped was chest level.

  The flashlights arched in their direction and they dropped to the ground again. Evie's breathing was coming quick and harsh. He needed to calm her down. He wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back in soothing circles.

  His hand brushed her scar. He stiffened but forced himself to relax. The anger he'd felt earlier rose again, faster than the flooded river. Only now, he had an outlet.

  He kept his gaze locked on the lights. They had stopped moving and were pointed at the ground now. Evie trembled but quieted.

  The lights flickered off and plunged them into total darkness. No one made a sound. No animals. No insects. The night creatures stayed away from the new predators.

  He and Evie lay in the mud behind three hardwoods growing close together. The trees’ slightly raised trunks and close proximity provided cover. For now.

  Hunter had to stash Evie somewhere safe. Then maybe it was time to go hunting.