Hunter (Black Angels MC Book 1)

by A. E. Fisher

  “Hunter? What’s goin—”

  Anna didn’t get time to finish as I flew to the dresser, grabbed the handle, and snatched the drawer open. Clothes flew out as I scavenged through them, throwing them aside with little care. I searched and searched, only finding socks, boxers, and a few condoms.

  “They’re not here!” I bellowed. “They’re gone!”

  “What’s gone, Hunter?” Anna asked, her voice rising with concern.

  “Hey.” Jax appeared, strolling into the room. His eyes went to Anna then to me, his ease replaced by caution. “What’s up?”

  “They’re gone!” I roared, grabbing the drawer and yanking it so hard it flew across the room, smashing to the floor and splintering into pieces.

  “Brother!” Jax yelled, looking at the drawer that was only inches away from Anna’s feet. “What’s gone? Why are you so freaked out?”

  “I put them in the drawer!” I insisted, turning toward Anna. “When you gave them back, I put them in the drawer. Now they’re gone.”

  “Gave what back, Hunter?” Jax snapped with frustration.

  “Oh, God …” Anna’s eyes grew round, and her mouth parted with understanding.

  “What?” Jax snapped, looking between us. “What is it?”

  “The tickets,” Anna revealed. “The untraceable flight tickets.”

  “She’s taken them!” I snapped, the hole in my chest burning with anger, angst, and fear. “She’s taken them, and she’s taken Adair, and now she’s gone. I’ve been downstairs for hours. She could be halfway to Fiji by now!”

  “Brother, calm down!” Jax said, squeezing my shoulder. He turned toward the girl standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock and confusion. I hadn’t even noticed her there. “Go get Wolf now,” Jax ordered, and the girl fled out of sight.

  I grabbed Jax by the scruff of his shirt and yanked him forward. “Didn’t you fucking hear me? She’s gone! I can’t fucking trace those tickets, Jax. It’ll be near impossible to hunt her down. There’s no way to catch up with her now. She. Is. Gone.”

  “Brother—”

  “Maybe not,” Anna interrupted.

  We both turned to look at her, her blue eyes sparkling with that devious glint she always got when she knew something we didn’t.

  “I’ve got an idea. Follow me.” Anna raced to the doorway as Wolf filled it.

  “If this is about what you did to my fuckin’ shower—”

  Anna didn’t even hesitate as she kicked him hard in the shin, ending Wolf’s annoyance with a shout of pain.

  “Bitch, what was that for?”

  “You were in my way.” She whipped back around toward Jax and me, both of us watching her from the doorway in stunned silence. “What are you waiting for?” she snapped. “We’ve got a girl to catch.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Mallory

  “It’s best if you part with us here,” I advised, lifting my one travel bag over my shoulder.

  My mother stood next to her car, the same minivan she had often ferried me around in as a child and teenager. It even still had the ‘My daughter went to Columbia’ bumper sticker on the front. She had bought it prematurely, considering I ended up dropping out halfway through my degree to run away with Adair.

  I smiled at her, and she smiled back. Even through the darkness of the early hours of the morning, I could tell her face hadn’t changed even the slightest in the four years I hadn’t seen her.

  “I can’t believe you’ve been so close this entire time, and I haven’t even seen you. I didn’t even think you would be with those biker boys that are always causing trouble around town. You should have called,” my mother chastised.

  “I know, Mom, and I’m sorry.” I felt small and fragile within my mother’s space. She was hurt, and understandably so. I had run off four years ago, telling her only that I had gone to travel before the baby was born. Even worse, I hadn’t contacted her in all that time, aside from when Adair had been born and a few postcards now and then so she wouldn’t file a missing person report. If it wasn’t bad enough, when I had finally come back home, I had avoided her for months, thinking only of when I could run away again.

  The only reason she found out about me was she knew the doctor who had saved me from my close encounter with a coma. It was there she had learned the truth about Noble, about Hell’s Runners, and about Hunter. She hadn’t cried—she was strong like that. Instead, she had quoted thousands of Bible passages at me, prayed for my sins to be absolved, and tried to convince me to baptize Adair. I had truly missed her and her forceful Christian ways.

  “I’d call, but Hunter could trace it,” I said.

  “Are you sure?” my mother asked, brushing my hair behind my ears. The touch was soft, reassuring. It made me want to throw myself into her arms and cry like I had all throughout my childhood. Instead, I held on tighter to Adair, who was blissfully sleeping in my arms as I ignored their growing ache.

  “No,” I admitted. “But Spider’s still out there, and I think it’s best for now that we disappear.”

  “And when they catch Spider?” my mother probed, looking down at her grandson, her first glimpse of the little boy.

  “If they catch Spider,” I amended, resulting in a chastising look from my mom, “then I’ll bring Adair to visit.”

  “But you won’t stay … because Hunter will still be around. And you won’t be able to live here knowing he’s right next door.”

  I felt my heart tighten in my chest, and a single tear strayed from my eyes. “I love him, Mom. Adair loves him. I … I can’t.” I took a deep breath, swallowing the rising emotions. I wasn’t ready to deal with them. Not until I was at least a couple thousand miles away. “I’ve made my decision. And now I have a plane to catch.”

  “Can’t you tell me where you’re going?” I knew this was my mother’s final plea, and I wished I could grant it. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t risk it.

  I shook my head then watched my mother swallow. She gave me a final stiff nod, and then pressed a kiss to my head then to Adair’s. She reached into her purse to pull out the two passports she had arranged for me. I had asked her to do it in the hospital, fearing that Hunter would find out if I did it from the compound, and despite her initial reluctance, she had done as I asked. She had also picked me up to get the photos taken, allowing me to escape from the compound for a while. I had wanted to stay with her, but due to Spider’s unknown whereabouts, Hunter had managed to convince me it was too dangerous, and thus I had spent two months surrounded by him.

  It had only made my decision harder to make. But I had made it after all, and there was no going back.

  “Be safe,” she whispered, pushing the passports into the pocket of my jeans. “And keep in touch.”

  “I will.”

  With that, my mother turned away from me, glancing back only once as she stepped back into her car and disappeared from the drop-off zone.

  I stood for a moment in the hustle and bustle of moving people before I turned and went inside, juggling my kid and my bag.

  I handed over my tickets, and after the check-in girl got her manager to verify them, he personally checked me in with my preferred destination, and then escorted me through customs until I sat in front of gate nine. Adair slept soundly across my lap and the next chair while they fueled the plane for departure.

  My anxiety and paranoia built as I waited, thinking about Hunter having discovered the letter by now, probably flipping out or drinking his way into oblivion. I wondered what everyone at the club would think of me now, and despite wishing I didn’t care, I knew I did. Those people had accepted me into their family, and what I was doing now would be considered a betrayal.

  I ran my fingers through Adair’s hair, the gesture soothing as he snored softly.

  At least I knew, deep down, that all of this was for his sake, and it was because of him that I could do this.

  “You don’t believe that.”

  The voice came from beside me, a
nd I almost jumped out of my skin. I hadn’t even realized someone had sat next to me.

  She was dressed in threadbare shorts, a tank top, and walking boots, all showing off her sun-kissed skin. Her long, brown hair was wavy and tied into a rough ponytail on the top of her head. A single dusty rucksack sat at her feet. She, herself, and the bottle of Jack in her hands smelt of whiskey, and she had a pair of sunglasses over her eyes, despite being indoors.

  She was peculiar. I didn’t think to be cautious around her, but I didn’t exactly want to get to know her, either.

  Seriously, though, who wears sunglasses inside at three thirty in the morning?

  She didn’t look directly at me, and I wondered whether she had spoken to me or not. However, when I looked around the gate and saw that there was only us in seating area, I knew she hadn’t sat next to me by accident.

  “Excuse me?” I asked, feeling the need to identify the intention behind her approach.

  She looked over her shoulder at me, the bottle of Jack swirling in her hand. She stared at me then at the whiskey bottle that had drawn my eye then at me again. “Uh …” She seemed surprised I had approached her. “Are you a nervous flier? Do you want some?” she asked, offering the bottle as if trying to understand why I had spoken to her. She was the one who had started the conversation.

  Who was this girl? And what was that accent? It was clear, distinctive. British?

  “Um, no,” I said. “What did you mean when you said, I don’t believe that?”

  “Oh, that.” She nodded like she only just remembered. She looked down to her bottle of Jack, swirling the dark liquid. “Whatever you were thinking about, you don’t believe it.”

  I frowned. “How would you know?”

  “It’s all over your face.” She shrugged. “Whatever you did, you didn’t do it because of that little boy.”

  “What?” I exclaimed, feeling invaded. “How did you know what I was thinking? Are you some kind of mentalist?”

  She laughed. “God, no.”

  “Psychic?”

  “Look,” she said, turning in her seat. “Let’s just say I’m a good judge of character.”

  “So, what? You take one look at me and think you know my story?” I snapped.

  She didn’t look fazed by my reaction. Instead, she capped her Jack and set it on the floor before turning to face me.

  “To know a person’s story, it first must be told. I can’t know it by glancing at you. What I can know, though, is that whatever reason you used to justify whatever you’re running away from … you don’t believe it. You didn’t run for that little boy; you ran for yourself. You may think you’re justified by the underlying reason, but I think that, if you were, you wouldn’t need to come up with excuses to protect it. Whatever that real reason is, it shouldn’t have to be justified by other excuses.”

  “You’re right,” I said, sinking back into my chair. “I said this was for Adair, but it’s not. It’s for me. Because I can’t deal with it. I love him, but I can’t forgive him. I don’t know how. I want to say it’s fine, that it’ll be okay, that we can be happy together, but I can’t say the words. I know they’ll be a lie. After everything I did to him for all those years, he forgave me and fell in love with me, and he loves my boy more than anything. He did that for me of all people.” I shook my head. “But when I see his face, when he looks at me like I’m the world and he’s scared he’ll break me, I can’t say it. And that’s killing him. It’s killing me. I can’t take it anymore.”

  Silence passed as the girl looked down at her bottle of Jack. She lifted it from the floor and took a small mouthful, her posture relaxing as she put the lid back on. She swirled the liquid, and with wisdom too old for her, she said, “For everything, there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.”

  I looked up at her with a flicker of surprise. She was quoting the Bible. “Ecclesiastes 3:1.”

  “Most people think of the Bible as the ramblings of some naive people, deluded into thinking a higher divinity exists to secure humanity’s need to have a purpose. They need to know they’re wanted. Personally, I think there’s a reason that those ramblings have survived for so long. Maybe they traveled all this way to be told to you now, to help you when you need them the most. But then the question becomes: do you believe in fate? Or is it a meaningless coincidence?” She stood, slipped the whiskey bottle into her backpack, and pulled it over one shoulder.

  “Wait,” I called out. “You’re leaving?”

  She looked up at the flat screen that showed the list of flights before looking back at me. “Not my flight.” She shrugged, a small smile pulling at her lips as she began to walk away. Then she paused, and as I looked at her, confused and utterly mystified, she said, “It may not be now, it may not be tomorrow, but forgiveness can come at any time for the simplest reason. You’ve got to be willing to have faith.”

  “That’s not in the Bible.”

  She smiled. “It is in mine.”

  She then walked down the hall, leaving me wondering who she was. More importantly, leaving me with a different perspective.

  I sat, looking down the corridor, hoping she was right, and hoping I could decide what I truly believed in.

  It was because of that that I hadn’t even noticed the airport security until they were practically standing on top of me.

  “Mallory Ward?”

  “Yes,” I answered, looking up at the three officers squaring off in front me. My eyes went straight to the officer with handcuffs. “What’s going on?”

  Adair stirred awake on my lap, at first drowsy, but then concerned as he eyed the officers. One stepped forward and reached for Adair, instantly making me jump to my feet and placing myself between them.

  “Ma’am, please hand over the child,” the man in front said, reaching for Adair again.

  “No, I will not hand you my son!” I snapped, my mother instincts flaring with defensive aggression. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Ma’am, you will hand over the child, or I’ll be forced to take action,” the one with the cuffs warned.

  “I. Said. No.”

  The officer moved, grabbing my arm and forcing me aside, giving the other officer enough time to snatch Adair up.

  He screamed, and I lunged at the officer holding me, digging my nails into his face and forcing him to release me as I bolted to grab Adair.

  A second officer stepped in, catching my arm and twisting it behind my back before I was even close. He shoved me against a wall as I kicked and bucked against him. Then he dragged my other arm back until he fitted two metal handcuffs around my wrists. I screamed and kicked when he began to speak. Then, as he listed my charge, I froze with shock.

  “Mallory May Ward, you are under arrest for the kidnapping of Adair Michael Ward.”

  He then proceeded to read my rights through the shouting of blasphemies from the officer I had scratched and Adair’s cries.

  The sounds faded away, and only one thing filled my mind.

  That bastard!

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Hunter

  She had been silent for too long. Her hands were interlaced on the silver table, the handcuffs still chaining her to the surface. She had her head down, her red hair falling over her eyes and face so I couldn’t see them. Mallory was feisty and said what was on her mind with a fire I couldn’t resist. This silence, though … it was unnerving and made Mallory unpredictable.

  I looked down at the tickets in my hands, the ones the flight manager had given me when security had dragged Mallory into a holding room.

  “France?” I asked. “Why France?”

  Mallory didn’t answer. She sat back in her chair, her hair falling away from her face to reveal sharp, narrowed eyes and a mouth pressed into a tight, flat line. “Where’s Adair?”

  “Anna’s got him.”

  Anna, Wolf, and Jax were in the airport waiting room, trying to calm Adair down. I wanted to give him to his mother to show she was oka
y, but I couldn’t do that yet. We needed to talk first.

  I placed the tickets in my back pocket and sat down on one of the metal chairs.

  “How’d you do it?” she broke the short silence.

  “I got temporary joint custody while you were in the hospital. I’m Adair’s next of kin, aside from you, since you went to Anna to put Noble’s name on the birth certificate the day before our fight.”

  “The day you left me at the park to be kidnapped!”

  I snapped my eyes to hers and saw a hint of remorse for saying that as she flickered her eyes down to her shoes. She didn’t take them back.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I left you at that park, Mallory, and I never should have. I should have been right by your side when the Hell’s Runners attacked, and I should have protected you. But I didn’t, and I’m gonna regret breaking your trust for the rest of my life. But not once since I brought you back from the hospital did I ever think about letting you go.”

  “That’s your excuse for having me detained by security? For kidnapping my own son?” Mallory’s brows rose, her eyes wide. “You’re unbelievable.”

  “Mallory—”

  “I thought you’d understand, Hunter,” Mallory snapped, emotions breaking through that icy façade of hers. She slammed her hands against the table, shooting to her feet as it all bubbled to the surface. “It’s impossible for me to be with you, Hunter! I love you, but I can’t trust you. Do you know what that’s like? No, you don’t. Because if you did, you would have let me get on that plane. You would have let me fly halfway around the world so this pain in my chest—the pain that keeps telling me I want to be near you, yet knowing I never can be—would ease a little. You don’t know the conflict of wanting to fall into your arms, knowing I can’t count on you not to push me away.”

  Tears filled her eyes as I sat there, feeling punch after punch of her raw emotions. Mallory had told me that she wanted to forgive me, but she couldn’t. I thought it was something that could be fixed with time, something that would fade. Maybe it would. Now, though … Now, I faced the very mountain I had to break through to get to her, and it made my chest heavy.