Hunter (Black Angels MC Book 1)

by A. E. Fisher

  Now I was surrounded.

  “Where’s the kid?” one of the girls snapped.

  “Upstairs … napping,” I answered.

  Shit, there were six of them. I had found out after I took the liberty to get Kay to explain the social circles here that the ones who had been cooking earlier were some of the bikers’ old ladies. The women in front of me now, dressed in their skimpy clothes, were the ones who spread their legs for any brother who came asking. Because of that, they found themselves at the bottom of the food chain, aside from me, of course. I figured I was right down there with the dirt and worms from the way the rest of the club women and whores looked at me.

  Baby was a club whore, too, as the old ladies made clear earlier, and she was apparently the lead bitch, but she wasn’t here right now. Not that it would have mattered since she had given her permission to treat me like shit in the kitchen earlier, anyway.

  All in all, you could say this situation was, well … unfavorable.

  “Good.” The brunette smiled smugly. I didn’t like it. Nope. Not one bit.

  “I should probably go check on him,” I said, making my way around them, but a redhead stood in my way. I stepped back when her huge, perky tits almost knocked me out, backing me into the wall.

  “Let’s have a little chat first, shall we?”

  “Look,” I said, not wanting to agitate them, “I know you don’t like me”—one of them scoffed—“so I’ll stay out of your way, and then we won’t have any problems.”

  “Oh, we’ve got problems,” the brunette, deputy leader it seemed, pressed her hand against the wall by my head. “We don’t want you to stay out of our way. We want you gone. Permanently.”

  “Believe me,” I said, “I’ve tried to leave, but Hunter won’t let me.”

  “Hunter’s confused,” the bitch snapped, leaning close enough that I could smell the cheap perfume the girls seemed to love to douse themselves in. “You came into his life, shaking that fat ass of yours and dangling that kid in his face, and now he’s stuck with you. Hell, he’s probably only keeping you around because you’re that kid’s mom.”

  I took a deep breath, clinging to the words Hunter had said to me in front of the fireplace over a week ago, ignoring the poison they were spouting. Not letting the hurt get me was a little trick I had learned through school. Never let them see you hurt.

  “Yeah,” another spoke over her shoulder. “Your loose cunt must smell like roses, drawing them in, but that’s all. You’re a little slut who doesn’t belong here.”

  I stayed silent, waiting for them to finish. They couldn’t hurt me. They were just jealous. I knew how these showdowns went, and I didn’t want to pick a fight in a club where I was all but alienated. Not to mention, the whole six versus one.

  Their words couldn’t hurt me.

  Their next words proved otherwise.

  “You may have fucked over one brother already, bitch,” the girl spat. “But you can’t have the other one. Hunter’s ours. We won’t let you kill Hunter like you did Noble.”

  Wait.

  “What?” stumbled out of my mouth as my mind rushed to analyze her words. Noble? Did she say … Noble?

  “Yeah, we all know about your little stunt, you whore. Tried to trap Noble with that kid of yours when you got knocked up. You wanted him all for yourself, didn’t you? Trash like you are fucking selfish. You’re probably the reason he’s dead, and now you’re trying it all over again with Hunter.”

  I couldn’t … I …

  Rational thoughts went out the window. Flashes of memories of Noble walking away from me went through my mind. And then that day as I had gone around the corner to the clubhouse to apologize … only to see a funeral.

  Noble’s funeral.

  Don’t let them see you hurt.

  There was no way they couldn’t see it. I could feel the agony returning, a gate bursting open, swelling with emotion.

  I found myself staring at the girl. Her mouth was moving, but no sound hit my ears. My face was frozen. I wasn’t even crying, yet I felt myself breaking.

  I had refused for almost four years to feel any emotion, other than positive gratitude and love for the man who had given me Adair. I had refused to feel grief for a man I had chased onto that bike. I had buried it deeply. I didn’t deserve it.

  Now, all my effort to keep it at bay had come undone.

  I thought I was going to cry. Thought I was going to break into a million pieces. I even thought maybe I could stand there forever. With such an intense wave of emotion, it was unpredictable what could happen. I had no idea what direction it would go in. However, I knew which direction my eyes went.

  They went far past the girl and their circle, past the noise and threats and bitching, and to a door that sat out of the corner of my eye.

  Brothers had their names engraved on the doors, and I had come across quite a few weird ones. But in my forty-eight hours here, I hadn’t had the chance to see all of them. Therefore, when I spotted that door, my vision tunneled. I didn’t think as I took a step toward it.

  “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” the brunette bitch snarled, wrapping her hand around my shoulder. She probably wasn’t trying to provoke me. Well, not for a physical reaction, anyway. She probably wanted to knock me down a bit more. And on any other day, I wouldn’t have responded.

  Today wasn’t any other day.

  I lunged.

  The intensity of my emotions channeled. The great wave slammed into me hard, knocking my consciousness far from control. I felt far away as I watched myself swing at the girl.

  I had never been in a fight in my entire life. I liked to think of myself as a pacifist. But this, grabbing a handful of hair, crisp from too much spray, and slamming her face into my knee, none of it was peaceful.

  I heard her nose break and watched the spray of blood as it smeared across my knee. She screamed, but I didn’t listen. I only looked for places to attack and hurt, grabbing the redhead’s nipples and almost ripping them off.

  They fought back, of course, and with six against me, none of us really fighters but scrapping with raw fury, I was getting more than I was dishing out. I didn’t care, though. I hit where I could and bit whatever was near.

  I was afraid I wouldn’t stop.

  And I didn’t.

  Not on my own.

  Large hands came around my biceps, tearing me from the mess. Other brothers shouted and cursed as they threw themselves between the whores and me. The girls screamed as they tried to reach me, but the second I was pulled away, I stopped fighting.

  I felt the anger slip away from me and fell limp in the arms pinning me. I felt heavy and exhausted. I felt numb. I knew tomorrow would be a bitch when everything would hurt and sting and ache, but tomorrow was for caring. Today, I let myself go far away from the world until nothing mattered and let the wave of emotions sink into the depths of my heart once more.

  “Where is she?” I heard Hunter’s voice down the hall.

  “She’s here, man,” Jax said, his voice soft, talking as if I couldn’t hear them. “Look, something happened during the fight. Physically, she’ll be fine in a few days, but …”

  There was a pause. I didn’t have to look at them to know they were looking my way.

  “Thanks, brother,” Hunter said.

  I first heard boots walk into the distance before Hunter’s heavier steps approached me.

  He was quiet for a few second and didn’t touch me. He simply stared at me, and then looked toward the door I stood in front of. The same door I had been standing in front of for last twenty minutes.

  Jax and Anna had been the ones to break up the fight, along with a few other brothers. Anna chewed out the bitches, while Jax had brought me into Hunter’s room, but I found myself standing out here before I knew it. He had tried to take me back, but when I asked for a minute longer, he understood and didn’t push.

  “Mallory?” Hunter’s gravelly voice was soft in my ear, and the sound of
it unraveled some of my tension.

  “They know,” I said, tracing the engraved plaque on the door with my eyes. “About me and Nobel … They know.”

  “I know,” Hunter said. “I told the brothers.”

  “I see.”

  I knew a part of me was mad at Hunter for breaking the condition, but the numbing emptiness still clung to me, and I couldn’t make it a concern. Not yet.

  “Mallory, what happened?”

  “I fell in love with a man I shouldn’t have,” I whispered. “I spent sixteen years falling in love with him from afar. I was the pizza delivery girl who stalked him at every opportunity. I knew his reputation with women and about him belonging to the Black Angels, but I hadn’t cared. College was a time full of pressure from my family, and I felt stressed all the time, but when I talked to Noble, it was easy, you know?” I looked up to where Hunter stood.

  His green eyes were soft, his focus solely on me. I had never told anyone in my life about meeting Noble. Now, the memories seemed to flow with ease as if I were there again. As if I were that naïve teenage girl looking for love in a man who deserved everything good and then some.

  “I wasn’t even a blip on his radar until one night my friends dragged me to a club. He remembered me, and we talked, and I drank and then drank some more. He seemed attracted to me, but I still think he saw me as the freckled sixteen-year-old who blushed bright red when he answered the door in his full glory. He wasn’t going to act, and I knew I had to do something … so my liquid courage and I managed to get him to give me a ride on his bike. He dropped me off at my place, and I invited him in for coffee.” I felt myself smile, and a faint sting nipped at the cut on my lip.

  Hunter brushed his finger across it, his green eyes unreadable. His demeanor was quiet but also open. “Go on.”

  I tried to search his expression, but he gave nothing away, so I did as he asked. I told him of that night and of my lie. Noble had been hesitant, ready to give up when we realized neither of us had condoms. Four years later, I had learned the hard way that lying about contraception was stupid. I said as much to Hunter, including how I was convinced I wouldn’t get pregnant, though it had been wishful thinking. I also went on to tell him about that day. I told him detail for detail how I broke his brother’s heart and ruined his world, of all my regrets, and how I wished it had turned out differently.

  I paused for a while, my hand now in Hunter’s, and I watched as he traced his fingers over my split knuckles one by one.

  I didn’t know how close the brothers were, but I had a feeling what I was telling Hunter now was crucial for whatever future we were going to have together. With that in mind, I didn’t want to leave anything out.

  “I went back,” I whispered, and Hunter paused, his gaze meeting mine. “I came back to apologize. To make everything right. I knew Noble was upset and hurt when I broke the news, and a lot of that was my fault. I also knew he deserved a proper explanation.

  “I had an attorney draw up some papers that said, if he ever wanted involvement with his child, he was free to have it. But unless he did, there were no obligations to me. I didn’t know what his opinion was on ever having kids, but I thought one day, if he chose to, he’d make a good father. And I hoped one day he could be that to our child. It didn’t have to be right then, or when the baby was born, or when it asked, or whatever. Whenever he was ready to be a father, we’d be there for him. Somewhere along the line, I had hoped we’d have a future together.”

  I placed my other hand on top of Hunter’s. “So, I went back on Friday with the papers.”

  A slow shudder of breath left Hunter’s tight lips. “The funeral …” he breathed, his eyes becoming torn with emotion.

  “My hopes and dreams were gone,” I whispered, looked away. “I always thought maybe someday when it came to Noble. I sought comfort in the fact I hoped deep down Noble would come back for me. I never even considered he might never get the chance to decide.”

  Hunter stepped away from me. I wasn’t even sure he realized.

  “Then all I could think about was how my baby would never get to know their father. They’d never know how good and kind and funny he was. They’d never be lifted and held in his big strong arms, or hold their small hands in his big ones. They’d never know how much he liked fixing up anything he could get his hands on, or how he had an unhealthy obsession with pizza.” I fought for courage and lifted my head to look up. “They’d never even get to look into his beautiful, green eyes.” I reached up, and Hunter flinched as I closed my hand on his cheek. “Noble was gone, and I’d driven him away. And now my baby would never know him. That was on me. I was all alone because of me.”

  “You weren’t alone, Mallory,” Hunter whispered, his voice tight and hoarse. He reached up and held my hand against his face. “You could have come to the club. We’d have taken you in. I’d have protected you.”

  “A random girl claiming to be pregnant with your brother’s baby, showing up on your doorstep less than a week after he died?” I shook my head. “You wouldn’t have believed me, Hunter. I wouldn’t have believed me. It was too much of a coincidence. Nobel was dead, and you couldn’t do a paternity test. The timing would have been too convenient. It’s not like any of you even knew me. There would have been no reason to believe me. And I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

  Hunter opened his mouth as if to protest, but I shook my head.

  “No, Hunter. As much as you’d like to believe you would have, I wasn’t willing to take that risk. So, I buried that Noble was the father. I didn’t want to give any disrespect or badmouth Noble or your club. I was ready to raise the baby on my own. I had my mother, as well. As mad as she was about what had happened, she would be there for me. We would raise my baby on our own.”

  “But you left,” Hunter said.

  “Yeah, I left.”

  What came next was what it all boiled down to. Ever since Hunter had learned of my existence, he had been waiting for this moment. He didn’t believe my speech about guilt, and he was right when he had said that wasn’t the whole reason I ran away. Don’t get me wrong; the guilt played a huge part in it, but this … This was the reason I had abandoned everything. The reason I had dedicated myself and my son’s childhood to a life on the road for almost four years with nothing to our names and no one.

  I found my voice hitching on the next words. I wanted to say them, knew it was time for the truth, but the terror still formed a lump in my throat. My mouth tried to form the sounds, but it was as if there were no such thing as words.

  “I had no other choice,” I blurted at last.

  “No choice?” Hunter frowned.

  “It came through the mailbox two days after the funeral.” I looked down at my hands, going back to the moment I had held that delicately glossed image in my hands. “It was a picture. It was taken the night I was on the back of Noble’s bike. He was smiling …” A flicker of a smile twitched on my lips, but it turned sour as the memory progressed. “On the back, there was red ink on it.” The pain and fear I had buried rose with the memory. “It said, You’re next.” I took a deep breath, looking down at my shaking hands, forcing myself to carry on. Needing to.

  “I didn’t know what to think or do. It wasn’t like I’d ever received a death threat before. I assumed it was from a friend of Noble’s who had found out what I’d done.” I smoothed my fingers across my waist, feeling the faint ridges of the stretch marks beneath the thin shirt. “Then, when the letter came a few days later, I … I …” I fought to breathe. I had started it, and no amount of dragging my heels could stop it now. “It detailed exactly what they were going to do to me. It said they were going to start with knives, that they’d cut all my skin and burn me until there was nothing left of my face. They’d put a bag over my head, and then they’d pass me around so that everyone could have a turn at raping me until I begged them to kill me. How they would ignore me, even if I did beg. That they would get turned on, and then they’d use the knives to
fuck me if I didn’t comply. And then they’d—”

  I slammed into something hard. My brain stuttered, unable to comprehend the warmth squeezing around me. The grip was so tight it almost hurt, but that small pinch of pain leaked into me and pulled me from that dark place.

  I couldn’t see Hunter, but I could feel him. I could feel the soft shaking of his chest as he clung to me. I could feel his heavy breaths and racing heartbeat.

  “Stop … Just stop.” Hunter’s voice was broken as he wrapped himself tightly around me.

  It was too late to protect me from the memories. I knew that. But as this big, strong man clung to me, brought to such agony, I cracked.

  Tears leaked onto Hunter’s shirt as I grasped the material of his shirt so tightly my nails dug into my own skin. Everything I had hidden, had locked away and buried behind walls, it all came tumbling down.

  And then I cried.

  Not for Hunter, or Nobel, or even Adair.

  I cried for me.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Hunter

  “That’s all she knows,” I said, leaning against the wall, my arms folded over my chest. The door was left open a crack so I could see inside if I looked over my shoulder. I didn’t have to look to know Mallory sat on the bed, humming softly as she ran her fingers through Adair’s soft curls.

  “A letter and a photograph?” Wolf asked, his eyebrows furrowed. He had been stuck on that fact ever since I had mentioned it.

  “Yeah, and a letter,” I repeated. “No doubt it’s the Hell’s Runners.”

  “No kidding.” Wolf dragged his phone out of his pocket and began hammering numbers into the tiny keyboard. “You stay with her. I’ll see to Hell’s Runners. See if I can’t get some information on what they’re planning.” He looked up from the device. “There’s a party on Friday. I want you down there, making nice with the brothers and hammering out any doubts ’cause of the shit that’s happened. Trust is key in the club, brother. Loyalty is what protects the club because, if brothers have our backs—”