by Coralee June
“What happened last night?” she asked before finding an oversized T-shirt on the floor and putting it on. The hem hit mid-thigh, and I both cursed how fucking sexy she looked with the wrinkled cotton tee slipping off her shoulder and thanked God that she wasn’t fully naked anymore.
“You joined my harem, apparently.”
“Excuse me?” she asked while sifting through her suitcase for underwear. I had to choke back a groan when she found a lavender thong made of lace.
“You got very drunk,” I explained in annoyance. It actually really pissed me off. She went and made a deal concerning my life with Gavriel Moretti, and instead of being panicked like she should have been, she got completely drunk off her ass with my rotation of pussy. I hadn’t really dipped my dick in a while, but it was still uncomfortable to see them all together joking. Not because I was embarrassed. No, it was uncomfortable because seeing them all together just affirmed that Butterfly, Luna, and Roxanne paled in comparison to Roe. She was all I could see, and that terrified me.
Roe sat at the edge of the bed with her back to me. I watched her piece through the puzzle of her night and stroke her brown hair with her nimble fingers. “You also complained about not getting off the last two times we were together,” I began while sitting up. The sheets pooled at my waist, and I caught her looking at me from the corner of her eyes. I was probably going to hell for this, but I couldn’t help but tease and take another opportunity to touch what wasn’t mine.
I leaned closer and brushed her hair off of her neck before sucking her salty skin. My tongue hovered over a thudding vein just below her ear, and she gasped. “Apparently, I owe you two orgasms,” I rasped.
Roe’s breath hitched, and she kept her gaze forward, though I could feel every muscle in her body growing relaxed. Her thighs parted ever so slightly, and if I wanted to, I could reach around and sink my fingers into her slick cunt. But I didn’t. Not yet.
“I won’t hold my breath,” she replied while forcing her trembling body to stand. “I’m used to everything concerning you being unreciprocated.” Her voice was snappy, and I wasn’t sure if it was the hangover she was probably rocking or if that had just become her general tone with me. I couldn’t blame her. I wasn’t making this easy on either of us, but how could I have possibly known she was still thinking about me just as much as I thought about her? How could I have possibly prepared for this reunion?
It was easier to be strong when she was out of sight. But I almost forgot my reasoning for pushing her away when she was this close and in the flesh—and I had very good reason. If she knew the entire truth, she’d never look at me the same way again. I’d rather her indifference than her hate, I just didn’t know how to make either of us unobsessed with the other. We were both in too deep, and it was getting harder and harder to play the part I was meant to play.
“Do you think I care if I leave you wanting?” I asked. To be honest, I did care. I cared so much that I’d spend the rest of my life with my head between her thighs, devouring her sweet pussy.
“You’ve already proven that you don’t,” she grumbled.
That didn’t sit right with me. I stood up, clutching the sheets around my waist while approaching her. She stood her ground and eyed me warily. I couldn’t blame her for not trusting my intentions. I probably seemed indecisive and overly cruel. She never knew which version of me she was going to get.
Dropping the sheets, I then reached out and grabbed her hips, her body tempting me in ways I couldn’t even articulate. “You couldn’t handle me caring, Roe,” I said before pulling her close. She smelled like sweat, minty toothpaste, and alcohol. “If I cared about you getting off, I’d have you everywhere. I’d touch you in public. I’d wake you up every morning with my head between your thighs. And every night, I wouldn’t rest until you were screaming my name.”
Her breathing quickened. Her skin grew flushed. She tilted her head up, and I cupped her cheek, dragging my thumb along her bottom lip. “You’d be surprised what I could handle, Hunter,” she whispered before licking her lips. The tension was so thick in the room. My dick was hard as fucking stone.
And then my cell started ringing.
I took a step back, like being in her orbit burned me. Fucking hell. I reached for my phone while she disappeared back into the bathroom.
My phone was on the nightstand, and I grabbed it without looking at the caller ID. “Hello.”
“I hope you had a good night, because shit just got messy,” Gavriel answered. He didn’t sound like his usual composed self.
“What do you want?”
“Check your messages.”
I reluctantly pulled my phone from my ear and checked the screen just as a message from Gavriel came through. The image was dark and grainy, but I recognized the man tied to the chair. He had a broken nose and two black eyes. His busted lip had bright red blood streaming from it.
Mack.
“What the fuck did you do to him?” I asked before pulling the phone back up to my ear. I thought I had time to decide. I thought he’d let me choose. I thought Gavriel’s threats were flexible. Not to mention, Mack had been working for the Bullets for years. Gavriel respected loyalty. What happened that made him turn his back on Mack?
“I didn’t do this. If anything, you’re to blame.”
What was that supposed to mean? “Explain. Now,” I commanded.
I heard the bathroom door open but didn’t turn to face Roe. “Mack heard about Roe’s deal with me. He figured if he could kill the target, I wouldn’t make you come back.”
I cursed while pacing the motel room. That sounded exactly like something Mack would do. But he wasn’t as skilled of a killer as me. Sure, he was smart and could use a gun, but it took a unique sense of precision to be an assassin. I glanced at Roe, who was staring at me with concern. “How long ago?” I asked.
“I got the picture this morning,” Gavriel growled. “My fucking target now knows I’m after him. This isn’t good. Not good at all.” He sounded pissed off. Gavriel was a lot of things, but he did care about Mack. He cared about all of his loyal employees. It’s why I wasn’t taking his threats about Nicole all too seriously.
“Do you think he’s still alive?”
Gavriel let out a sigh, and I waited with bated breath for his answer. “I don’t know. We need to take care of this. Mack is Bullet family, but I don’t know how long he can last being tortured. What if he leads them to you? He already led them to me. What about Roe? These assholes will use anyone and anything as leverage.”
Shit. I didn’t want another situation where Gavriel’s enemies tracked down the people I cared about. And if I couldn’t get Mack out, I’d have to kill him before he could put anyone at risk. It was a tricky situation. I found my jeans on the ground, and while holding my phone between my ear and shoulder, I put them on. “No shit. Send me the details, and I’ll be out within the hour.”
“You have to go ghost,” Gavriel rushed out before I could hang up. “This is high-profile. No planes. No public places. You can’t leave a single trace. This isn’t the kind of target my connections can help cover-up. I can send some help, but the situation has escalated. Don’t call me until it’s done. Don’t talk to anyone. You can use some of my safe houses and vehicles along the way.”
Gavriel hung up, and I was immediately emailed details of the target. The moment I saw the name, my chest constricted. This would be fucking hard.
Mayor Bloomington. He was a crooked man that ran the city like a crime boss. It came as no surprise that he was involved in shit with Gavriel. But making someone this public disappear would take a miracle. And saving Mack just became infinitely more difficult.
“What’s going on?” Roe asked. I put on a T-shirt and opened my phone back up to the picture of Mack before handing it over to her. There was no use in lying or hiding. She needed to know what the stakes were. Roe gasped the moment she saw his broken and battered face on the screen.
“How—oh my God. Did Gav
riel do this to him?” Her voice was shrill and full of vengeance. “I’ll end him.”
“No. The target he wants me to kill did. Mack tried taking him out and failed. It’s up to me to save him now.” I didn’t mention that I didn’t think there was anything to save, but I wasn’t willing to admit that to Roe just yet. I didn’t want to be the one to tell her that we were the reason the only father figure she knew was probably dead.
Roe processed the information for about ten seconds before frantically packing her suitcase. I knew she’d want to go but was proud of her for pulling herself together so quickly. She was always such a fighter. “You’re not going,” I said.
Roe stood up and straightened her spine, casting me a murderous glare. “Hell yes I am.”
I saw the determination in her stance. There was no question in her expression, either. Roe had already made up her mind that she was going with me. But where I was going wasn’t safe for her.
“You can’t, Roe. It’s not safe.”
“He’s the only family I have,” she replied incredulously. “You can’t seriously expect me to just stay here and wait patiently while you travel across the country to save him.”
That was exactly what I was expecting her to do. It suddenly hit me that I had a choice to make. Roe wasn’t strong enough to take on this job at my side, and I couldn’t leave her anywhere, because I couldn’t trust that she wouldn’t follow after me.
“You’re not going,” I said again, this time more sternly.
“Yes. I am. Mack is the only family I have.” Roe was standing with her arms crossed over her chest. She looked unyielding and powerful just then. It nearly killed me to know I’d have to break her to keep her safe. I had to do what I’d been running from. I had to tell her something that would make her hate me so much she would refuse this journey.
“You can’t come with me.”
Her eyebrows rose. “And why not?” she asked.
“Because I’m ruthless,” I began while taking a step toward her. “Because this is the kind of mission that will require me to do whatever is necessary. Because I don’t need you as a distraction. Because if it comes down to saving Mack or killing this man, I’ll choose the latter. Gavriel gave me a job, and I am the only one that can get it done. Mack’s been tortured probably past his limits. We don’t know what he’s said or if you’ll become the target again—”
“Mack would never give me up. And even if he did, I’m not that important,” Roe argued.
“You don’t know that. They could have already gone through his phone. Learned about his history. About me. These people leave no loose ends and will grab hold of anything they think will give them an advantage. And if it comes down to it, I will kill Mack to save the rest of us.”
Roe shook her head. “You don’t mean that. You have to save Mack. No matter what happened between us, you know how important he is to me. You wouldn’t kill him.”
She sounded so confident. So sure.
If only she knew.
“Your safety will always trump your happiness for me. I killed your own mother. What makes you think I won’t kill Mac to save you, too?”
I blurted it. It was out there now. My mind and mouth and determination to keep her safe released the one secret I still had.
She stalled. Gasped. Stilled. Then trembled. I saw the light dim from her eyes. It was 9:24 in the morning when she stopped loving me.
ROE
Mom
Wake up, little dove.
Stiff wings of cotton and red, lifeless eyes.
You built a cage for yourself. Wood painted a dull shade of gold.
You sat on your perch and stared through the bars, watching the world but never participating in it.
Wake up, little dove.
Sandpaper veins and foamy mouth.
I never knew of your taste for poisoned needles.
I never knew you wanted to trade your cage for a tomb.
Buried deep, little dove.
Bed of roses and a ceremony for one.
From ashes and dust to clouds and sun.
Fly away, little dove.
Fly away, Mom.
I absorbed his words. “I killed your own mother.” Why did Hunter like to drop bombs in my lap with such simplicity and grace? He didn’t handle my feelings with sensitivity. He destroyed me with calm truths. It was devastating. Who was this man? How did I not know this?
I couldn’t quite make sense of what he was saying. “Excuse me?” I asked, seeking clarification. “Did you just admit to killing my mother?”
Hunter looked at the ground, then back at me. Swallowing, he replied, “Yes.”
“Why?” I choked.
Hunter closed his cold eyes, like looking at me was too difficult for him. “I had my reasons.”
He had reasons? What reasons could he possibly have? Maybe he was crazy. Maybe he wanted more accessibility to my life so he could control me. It all made sense now. Hunter killed my mother so he could insert himself in my life. “Did Mack know?”
I saw the lie flash across Hunter’s expression. He wanted to tell me that Mack was a part of this deadly deed, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He wanted me to think Mack was guilty in this so I wouldn’t want to save him. “No. He didn’t.”
My relief was short-lived. Hunter killed my mother. He fucking killed her.
There weren’t any sufficient words to describe the pain I felt. It all made sense now. This was the final piece of the puzzle. This was the driving guilt that forced Hunter into seclusion from me. This was why we would never be together. I wasn’t just a debt to him. I wasn’t even an obsession. Guilt and ruin lined the roads that brought us together.
I wanted off this path. I wanted to make him suffer. Hunter Hammond deserved the loneliness Joshua Tree offered him, and I would starve him of my empathy. I no longer cared about the little boy that watched my father die. The image of his sunken, boyish cheeks and my mother’s willowy arm wrapped around his shoulder assaulted my memory.
How could he?
A series of realizations dawned on me as I stood in the middle of my motel room. She didn’t kill herself. She didn’t willingly leave me. Mom didn’t abandon me. My mother’s murderer had been inside of me. Hunter buried his cock and affections within my body. I became a home for his evil. He owned my body and mind. He’d corrupted my thoughts. He sparked a love in my soul. I’d coaxed undeserved pleasure from his cock, not knowing that he was the root of my loneliness. All this time, I’d been trying to find a sense of understanding in him, while he had been hiding the truth.
Murderer.
My. mind felt. Like.
Disjointed.
Rushing.
T
H
O
U
G
H
T
S.
Thoughts about the woman that raised me. A mother born of grief. I thought she loved my father more than me. I thought she left because being terrified of living was stronger than the love of a daughter. Contemporary poetry streamlined my inner monologue so I could make sense of the painted pain across my soul. Death was such a fickle thing. Grief convinced me that I was capable of moving on, then peeled the scab off my wound.
She was such a lovely dove, my mother.
Would she have healed eventually? Could we have moved on E V E N T U A L L Y?
Or would we still be sitting in a cold apartment with the deadbolt locked and her tears mopping the floor?
She was a lot like a cactus, my mother. Lone. Prickly.
My obsession and love for Hunter shriveled up on the spot. What was once a beautiful bed of thorny flowers became a desert drought. I didn’t want him anymore. I couldn’t stand to even look at him, though I knew I needed to. I needed to stare him in the eye and let him see the pain there. Hunter Hammond had been running from the guilt, but it was fucking time to finish this chase. He felt pushed to admit what he did because he wanted me to run away. Everything Hunt
er did had a purpose. He wanted me to give up and leave, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of my fear.
I wasn’t giving him what he wanted anymore. I was going with him. No matter what. Mack was too important to me to let him use this to keep me away.
A plan took root in my mind. I realized that he would need a reason to take me with him. Calmly, I walked over to my backpack on the floor and sifted through it. “You going to say anything, Pretty Debt?” he asked. How dare he call me that right now. Did he expect me to cry? Was he getting off on causing me pain?
My fingers hit the cool, heavy metal of my gun, and I pulled it out to aim at Hunter. One of the first things I did after leaving Gavriel’s home was buy bullets. You couldn’t own a gun unless you were prepared to shoot it, and now felt as good a time as ever to lose my sense of right and wrong. I was prepared to pull the trigger now. I just had to find the right source of anger to pull from, and Hunter was a bottomless pit of fury.
“You bastard,” I said before pulling the slide back and loading a bullet in the chamber.
“You won’t shoot me,” he replied confidently. He was so damn cocky. He was so convinced that I cared enough to keep him alive. If I didn’t need him to save Mack, I probably would kill him in this dirty motel room. I would happily go to jail and pay the price of avenging my mother’s death.
But there was timing in everything. I needed him right now. So I aimed a little to the left and pulled the trigger. A hanging mirror beside him shattered, and splintered glass exploded around him. Naturally, Hunter didn’t flinch. He didn’t move. He stared me down as people screamed in the room next door.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked as I picked up my cellphone and dialed 911. I ignored his question the same way he’d been ignoring the truth between us.
The operator answered. “911, what’s your emergency?”
“My ex-boyfriend is stalking me. He showed up at my motel, I had to shoot—”
