Hunter (Black Angels MC Book 1)

by A. E. Fisher

“Now, it’s your turn.”

  In the blink of an eye, Charon’s gun was at Spider’s forehead, the distance between them gone within a second.

  “Ready to have your soul reaped, Spider?”

  Spider looked up at Charon. I expected fear, panic, or even calm before death. I hadn’t expected a smile.

  “You’re not my end, Charon.”

  Bang.

  Glass shattered, causing chaos in all directions as gunfire rained down from the ceiling. Lights beamed through the bullet holes as a helicopter obliterated the thin metal ceiling.

  Gunfire began as men dressed in black came running in from all sides.

  I fired at three, taking one down, and then another as I dropped behind the crate. Then I ducked out and shot two more as they retreated toward a door, only to see the first two bodies I had taken out gone.

  It was over in seconds. The men in black disappeared out the door and gunfire came to a halt.

  I turned toward the center of the room to find it empty. Spider had escaped, and Charon had disappeared in the confusion. But that wasn’t what I cared about.

  Mallory was also missing.

  I felt my heart explode with panic, adrenaline nearly pushing my heart into a cardiac arrest before I heard the shout.

  “Hunter!” Wolf yelled.

  He had somehow disappeared from beside me and was now over by a crate on the other side of the room. Mallory lay on the floor where both he and the blond-haired man crouched over her.

  I ran straight toward them, pushing both out the way as I dropped next to Mallory. A black jacket was pressed over her neck, and as I shifted it, I could see the blood shining underneath. I pressed it back down and looked at her face. She was pale and still. I felt like I was choking.

  “Wake up, Mallory,” I whispered, reaching for her face where I brushed her hair behind her ears. “Mallory!” I snapped.

  “She hasn’t lost a lot of blood.” The voice came from behind me. “I think Spider gave her a drug to knock her out, but I don’t know what it was.”

  I stiffened as I looked down at my woman, my girl. Then I leaned down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. I looked to where Wolf stood by my side then past him to where Pretty was standing guard.

  “Stay with her,” I ordered.

  Pretty looked between Wolf and me before nodding. He placed his gun within reaching distance on the floor then placed his hand over the jacket as I removed mine.

  I stood and turned, feeling my blood clot in my veins as I came face-to-face with the man who had made Mallory crumble at the sight of him. I could see why.

  The jaw, the height, the hair, the face, the ears, even his fucking posture—they were all Noble. However, I saw straight away what he had made Mallory look at again.

  His eyes.

  His brown eyes.

  “You’re not Noble.”

  “No.” His face conformed into a mixture of both confrontation and compassion. “My name is Chains. Legally, I’m James Matthews … your half-brother.”

  I snapped, my blood boiling in rage and fire as my fist connected with his face before I even realized I was moving. Even after I did, I kept pounding and pounding down on him.

  “You are not my brother!” I yelled. “My only brother was murdered! He died drowning in his own blood from where his rib had pierced his lung!” I hit him again and again with each confession. “He lay there, dying, in the middle of a fucking street!” I couldn’t stop. “I didn’t get there in time. He died seconds before I got to him! All alone! He died. My brother died. You are not my brother!” My punches weakened, my strength waning as I realized Wolf and Jax were dragging me off him.

  Chains curled up in pain before he looked up. His face was battered enough that I could only see the brown eyes staring back at me. It felt comforting. Then it didn’t.

  “He wasn’t alone,” Chains wheezed out.

  “What?” I choked.

  He rolled onto his hands and knees, and then clambered to his feet. He clutched his waist, bent over in pain as he looked at me.

  I heard sirens in the distance, and Polo came running over, a nasty bullet graze leaking blood down his arm.

  “The police are five minutes out, Prez,” he said to Wolf. “We need to get out of here.”

  “The ambulance?” Wolf demanded.

  “Two minutes out.”

  Wolf nodded.

  I turned back to look at Chains where he was limping across the concrete. I went to stop him, but Wolf grabbed me and tugged me back.

  “Leave him.”

  I broke out of Wolf’s grasp. His eyes flared as I shoved him away. Then they narrowed on my face. He knew I was aware of the big mistake he had made.

  I thought back to Chains … James—whoever the fuck he was—and knew Wolf’s confession hadn’t been the whole truth. Not even close.

  The sirens grew louder, and I looked down at Mallory, who looked like she had simply fallen asleep on the floor, peaceful and quiet.

  “You guys get out of here,” I said, not taking my eyes off her.

  I reached down to take Pretty’s place, pressing down on the jacket, when a hand caught my wrist. I followed the inked arm until I came to Jax’s face.

  “The second the police get here, see her like that, and you with your busted knuckles, they’re gonna take you in, no questions asked,” Jax said. “You need to be there when she wakes up.”

  “Get to your point, Jax,” I snapped, the sirens growing almost deafeningly loud now.

  “My point,” Jax huffed, reaching into his waistband to pull out his gun and hand it to Pretty, “is that you need to get the hell out of here.”

  “But you—”

  Jax shoved at my arm, pushing me aside as he placed his hand over the jacket. “Get Anna to post my bail as soon as possible. You hear me? I know you guys can be stingy fuckers.”

  Wolf nodded. “I’ll get Anna to bounce you the second she can.”

  Jax looked back at me, to where I had remained standing since he had shoved me, and grinned. “I’ll take really good care of her, Hunter. Leave it to me.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about.” I caught his hand in a tight fist, my other hand gripping his shoulder. He would have done the same if his hand wasn’t holding the jacket. “Thanks, brother.”

  Jax nodded, and then the rest of us disappeared on our bikes and out onto the highway home as the ambulance screeched to a halt by the warehouse door that had been blown to bits. The police passed us only seconds later.

  Chapter Thirty

  Mallory

  I woke up feeling like I had been knocked out with a horse tranquilizer. My eyes were dry when I opened them, I had vomited down the side of the bed, and from what I could comprehend the doctors saying through blurred voices and images, I had been injected with something. It was a long-ass name, and I couldn’t remember it. Apparently, I had been told several times already. Then again, short-term memory loss was an apparent side-effect of the drug, as was the disorientation, confusion, and vomiting. I remembered everything once I had begun showing signs of recovery.

  It had taken me a week to get over the initial symptoms. The doctors had kept me in the ICU for three days longer. Apparently, when you were close to being overdosed with Gamma-Hydroxybutyric acid, with the only 0.1g between you and a coma, a relapse of symptoms wasn’t only possible, but highly likely.

  Therefore, after eight days of being stable, I was finally allowed visitors.

  I expected Adair to come running through the doors, his blond curls in a messy pile on his head, tears in his eyes, crying my name. However, life didn’t always turn out how you expected.

  Neither did Hunter.

  He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his cut draped over his arm. He looked tired as he slumped against the doorframe, dark hollows under his eyes and dark growth over his chin. The waves in his hair were beginning to evolve into curls that defied gravity, stuck up in all directions from having run his fingers through them seve
ral times.

  He didn’t look like he had even changed in the past week. Then again, all the clothes in his wardrobe were practically identical: black shirt, jeans, and laced boots. I wanted to say it was a surprise to see him, but it wasn’t. In recollecting all my disorganized memories, I knew he had been asleep in the corner during visiting hours. He had been in it so many hours that I was sure the chair had molded to his shape.

  My eyes traveled up him, unsure what to say or do. I had been advised to keep my speech to a minimum, my throat having been sliced, in addition to my other issues. Therefore, I just stared.

  It took a while, but Hunter eventually looked down at his boots, which were toeing the lines between the white linoleum floor of my room and the slightly grayed tiles of the hallway.

  “Can I come in?”

  It was so polite that it would have made me laugh on any other day. Instead, I nodded.

  Hunter approached almost cautiously. He draped his cut over the edge of the bed and wrapped his hands around the handles. He looked around the room, his tongue swirling in his mouth before he bit his cheek.

  The silence finally became unbearable.

  “The nurses tell me they got the guy who did this to me in lockup.”

  Hunter looked up, a flicker of a smile on his face. “Ah … no.” He coughed. My words must have been an underlying invitation for him, encouraging him to come closer and sit in the chair next to the bed instead of his corner one. “That was Jax. He stayed with you when the ambulance arrived, and with the scene and everything, he got locked up.” He looked down at his hands, smoothing over the scabs formed across them. “Took my place so I could be here for you when you woke up.”

  “Oh,” I said, nodding absently. I would have to clear that up with the police so Jax could get released. It had been a kind thing for him to do. “He didn’t have to do that.”

  “No, he didn’t,” Hunter said. “He’s a good brother.”

  “That isn’t what I meant, Hunter,” I whispered, feeling my heart squeeze when I saw Hunter flinch. When he looked up, I could see vulnerability in him for the first time. “I meant … it wasn’t necessary for Jax to do that. Or for you to be here.”

  My heart ached, and as much as it had soared when I knew the Black Angels had come to rescue me back at the warehouse, there were things I couldn’t forgive.

  “You left me, Hunter,” I said, emotion tightening my throat and making my stitches sting. However, I pushed through it, the words needing to be borne. “I know you were upset with Wolf and didn’t want to lash out at me, but it’s not good enough. No matter what, you told me you would protect me and my son—your nephew. But you got upset and you left us. It may not have played out any differently than what happened, but you were meant to stay.”

  I felt the tears slide down my face as I watched Hunter silently listening. He didn’t interrupt me. He didn’t make excuses. He just listened as I carried on.

  “I want to say that everything that happened made me realize that it didn’t matter. That because I love you, and that because I almost died, I can get over it, and we can be happy like we deserve. But this isn’t like the movies, Hunter. You broke your promise to me. More importantly, you broke your promise to Adair. I can’t forgive that. I want to, but I can’t.”

  The silence, pregnant with my words, was heart-wrenching. Hunter sat so very still that I feared he would shatter if I spoke again.

  My throat burned as I willed myself not to give in and forgive him, not to apologize, not to try to fix his heart when mine was too shattered to do so. I didn’t have the right to cry, not in front of him, not right then, but the tears kept coming anyway. It near killed me when Hunter finally spoke.

  “Okay,” he whispered.

  And then he left.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Hunter

  Two months later…

  I sat with a glass of whiskey at the bar. It was warm and had burned when I swallowed the first mouthful. That had been ten minutes ago. Now, I swirled the liquid around in the glass, looking deep into it as if it might have the answers to all my problems.

  “She hasn’t forgiven you yet?” a voice asked as a drunk brother collapsed onto the stool next to me.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be enjoying your party?” I yelled over the booming music where said party was amassing with naked girls, drugs, alcohol, and all things club tradition. “Aren’t those eyes of yours supposed to draw those women in like bees to honey?”

  “Nah, I’m worn. It may have been two months, but I’m only healed up so much.” Mint laughed, pointing over his shoulder to a pile of girls. “Besides, I think Jax and Lamb got my share of fun covered.”

  “You’re already patched in, brother. You have as much right to those girls as any of us. Don’t let those forever-horny bastards steal your thunder.”

  “It took until now to get Jax outta county jail. He deserves it.” Mint pulled up his leather sleeves and tugged on the edges of his brand-new cut, his jovial mood turning somber. “Didn’t think you were serious when you said getting my patch would near kill me.”

  “You laid down your life to protect my girl and my nephew. Voting you in was the least I could do.”

  “Your girl?” Mint parroted. “What happened to being your old lady?”

  “Look,” I said, splaying my palms open between us. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but I don’t wanna talk.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m gonna talk anyway,” Mint retorted. “All you have to do is listen.”

  “You’re not supposed to talk,” I scoffed. “You’re supposed to be the quiet type.”

  “I talk when things need to be talked about. Before, it wasn’t my place, but like you said, brother, I’m patched in now, so I have the right to give you shit.”

  “Cocky bastard.” I shook my head. He would fit right in.

  Mint winced as he leaned over the bar and managed to scoop up two beers. He set one in front of himself and the other in front of me. Popping the lid of his own with his bare hands, he took a long gulp of the warm liquid. Then, with a gasp, he set it down. Mint didn’t waste a second starting his speech.

  “Mallory’s a nice woman. She’s kind, she cooks, she’s a good mother; not to mention that mouth and mind. Hell, I even heard Baby likes her. She’s old lady material. She’s also hurt, and that space you’re giving her is only letting her crawl into that big brain of hers. By now, I’m sure she’s weighed up all the pros and cons of staying, thought about how easy it would be to leave you, and how much it’ll hurt.”

  “What you getting at, Mint?” I didn’t like where he was going with this.

  “I’m saying that I have no idea what conclusion she’s going to come to.” Mint downed the rest of his beer and staggered from his stool. “I suggest she stops being your girl and becomes your old lady as soon as possible. If things don’t change, she’ll be gone before you know it. Be a true biker and go claim your woman.” With that, Mint staggered back into the crowd, catching himself a hot blonde who’d had five shots too many, while I was left with his words.

  I looked down at the bar, at the glass of whiskey and at the beer beside it.

  “Anna,” I scoffed, a smile tugging at my lips. “I should’ve known.”

  I thought back to Mallory, to where she was in my room with that amazing little boy, and I knew Mint was right.

  Mallory had needed her space after coming back from the hospital. She had wanted to go back to her mother’s house at first, but because Spider’s whereabouts were still unknown, it had been decided it was too dangerous for her to leave the compound, and so she’d ended up staying in my room, and I stayed in one of the other spare rooms at the compound.

  Mallory had split her time between staying in her room and hiding among the girls of the club, whom she had grown close to since she had come back. The few times she had talked to me was about things relating to Adair, and even then she kept it short and brief, going to girls if she needed something instead.


  I fucking hated it. I wanted to grab her and force her to come back to me, to get over it and touch me like she used to. But I didn’t. I let her draw away from me, thinking she needed the time and space to come to terms with what had happened, and then I thought she would realize I meant more to her, to Adair, and in doing so, she would choose to stay.

  But she was forgetting that I knew her. I knew every inch of her. I knew she liked to read books on the grass. I knew she liked to sing Bible songs as lullabies. I knew she loved it when I took control. I knew Mallory Ward. I knew she loved me. I knew she wanted to be with me.

  Now, it was time for me to show her that she could be.

  I snatched the beer from the bar, downed it in one go, slammed it back down so hard it almost smashed, and stormed through the party.

  Time to get me my old lady.

  Empty.

  The room was empty.

  At first, I thought she had gone to visit Kay or Anna, but as I turned to go search the compound, I saw the note. A single piece of card, written on the back of one of the business cards from the nightstand drawer.

  I’m sorry.

  I felt my heart fall through my chest and onto the floor. My limbs felt still and heavy like I was encased in a room full of concrete. I looked at the black ink, curved and carefully written, going over and over it again, as if the words might change if I looked at them hard enough.

  I’m sorry.

  I’m sorry.

  I’m sorry.

  They didn’t change.

  “Hunter?” came from the doorway.

  I turned, expecting to see Mallory, her big, brown eyes and red hair shaping her beautiful face, Adair in her arms. I didn’t find that.

  Instead, a short, disheveled, blonde-haired woman in red boots stood there, looking cautious and concerned.

  “Hunter? What’s going on?” Anna asked, stepping slowly into my room. “Where’s Mallory?”

  Memories resurfaced and pieces clicked into place. I felt the dread rise in my stomach and throat as I whispered the hoarse word, “No.”