Decker

by Summers, Eden

  “I’ll give you directions.”

  I yank open my door, and we both slide inside.

  “Head out of town.” Hunter clasps his belt, and I start the ignition. “Toward Portland.”

  I nod and pull from the curb, the small town being left behind in the rear-view as we steamroll closer toward apprehension. “Are you going to start talking?”

  “When we pull over. I don’t trust this car isn’t bugged.”

  I hold tight to the steering wheel and wonder if he’s right. Not only could the authorities be listening, but it’s a possibility Torian could’ve placed a recording device in his own car.

  All those phone calls via Bluetooth, or any conversation he’s held behind the wheel could be kept and used to his advantage…along with all those I’ve had with Keira.

  Shit.

  “You need to start talking.” I demand. “I know something’s wr—”

  “Here.” He focuses out his window, tapping his finger against the glass. “Pull over.”

  “You sure?” He’s pointing toward a dilapidated barn. The structure is barely holding its own, the wooden wall planks filled with dark, rotted cracks exposing the black inside. One gust of wind and the fucker is going to fall.

  “Yes. Pull into the drive and park at the gate. We can walk the rest of the way.”

  “You want to go inside?”

  He scowls at me. “What’s with you questioning me this morning? You’re getting on my nerves.”

  “Feeling’s mutual.” I pull into the dirt drive and cut the engine.

  Being at each other’s throats isn’t a great way to face this storm. We have to be a team. Focused and reliable. I need to be on his good side if there’s any hope he’ll help me convince Keira to run from this mess.

  “Get moving. I don’t want to keep the girls waiting.” Hunter is out and striding for the fence before I can release my belt.

  He doesn’t want to keep them waiting?

  I didn’t want to leave them in the first fucking place.

  Something is seriously eating Hunter’s ass right now and it’s not an A-grade hooker.

  I rush from the car, slamming the door behind me. “Hey.” I jog to catch up. “What’s going on?”

  “You tell me.” He opens the gate, holding it wide until I walk through. “This morning has been a fucking disaster.”

  “Because Luther went to meet his maker?” I continue along the drive, rocks and dirt crunching under my shoes.

  “Among other things, but we’ll get to the rest later.” He lags half a step behind, his heavy frame taking up the corner of my eye. “First, I want to know what Keira told you.”

  “It’s like I said on the phone—Her dad is counting worms, and they’re keeping it quiet while they prepare for the approaching shit storm.”

  “I still don’t understand why she would tell you when nobody else has been told. Not even me.”

  “Is that what this is about?” I huff out a chuckle. “You’re pissed because your best buddy, Torian, didn’t tell you first?”

  “Like I’d give a fuck about that. I just want answers. I want to know why she would blab to you.”

  I glance over my shoulder and waggle my brows at his fierce expression. I wouldn’t have guessed it possible, but his face becomes stonier. Those eyes harden to disapproving slits. His lips flatten into a straight line.

  “So, you did fuck her,” he grates.

  “That’s such a crass term for the magic we shared.”

  “It must’ve been some monumental fuck to have her spilling her family secrets.”

  I shrug. “What can I say? My moves bring out the trust in people.”

  “Torians don’t trust,” he snarls. “You know that.” He slows his pace, falling further behind as we reach the barn. “Who else have you told?”

  “Nobody.” I grab the splintered door in both hands and have to lift to get it to budge. “I called you—”

  A heavy weight slams into my back, buckling my knees and shoving me into the rotted wood.

  “What the—” My gun is yanked from my pants as I right myself, the barrel jabbing into my ribs.

  “Get inside,” Hunt mutters. “Move.”

  I freeze, the world stopping around me as I relive every move I’ve made in the last forty-eight hours in an attempt to pinpoint my failure. “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you—”

  Pain explodes through the back of my skull, the impact coming from his knuckles or maybe the butt of the gun.

  “Open the fucking door. We’re not doing this out here.”

  “And what is this, exactly?” I murmur. “Because I’m fucking clueless.”

  Cold metal presses to the top of my spine. “Inside. Now.”

  I scramble to figure out what’s going on. What he knows. How I’ve failed. “You’re being a dick, Hunt. Cut the shit and tell me what’s got your panties in a twist.”

  “Don’t try my patience, motherfucker.”

  Fuck.

  I have no clue what’s going on. No fucking idea what has turned my friend against me. I lift the door, adrenaline coursing through me.

  My head throbs as I shove inside, dust billowing at my feet. I inch into the darkened interior, the nudges from Hunt prodding me forward.

  Splinters of light pierce through the broken walls. Cobwebs blanket the beams along the ceiling. This place is empty, apart from the dread filling the space to capacity.

  It’s certainly not the nicest place to die.

  I guess it’s not the worst, either.

  “Who do you work for?” He shoves me forward with a heavy hand between my shoulder blades.

  I stumble, gaining enough space to turn and face him. “You’re paranoid.” I scowl at him. At my friend. My only fucking friend.

  “And you’re a fucking traitor.” He aims the weapon at my chest, his arm strong, his resignation even stronger. I can see it in his eyes. He’s capable of pulling the trigger. He’s considering killing me.

  “What have I told you about skipping your meds?” I raise my hands in surrender. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you today—”

  “Who do you work for?” he demands. “Is it the fucking DEA?”

  “I work for you. I’ve always worked for you.”

  His eyes flare. His jaw ticks.

  He knows. He fucking knows.

  How?

  “Tell me what’s going on.” I step closer. “Whatever it is, you’ve got the wrong impression.”

  “Do I?” He raises a brow. “In the early hours of this morning, one of Torian’s cop friends calls to tell him an informant has started whispering about Luther’s death. Not long after, you give me the same information.”

  Fucking Anissa.

  That bitch exposed me.

  “And you’re blaming me for the leak?” I scoff and lower my hands. “Fuck, man, you said it yourself, I called after the cop. Who knows who found out before I did. Keira has probably told all her friends. And then there’s Layla. Or even Cole. It’s obviously not a well kept secret.”

  “It’s not a secret, you piece of shit. It’s a lie.”

  A lie?

  A fucking lie.

  I school my expression, facing the news head-on as hell rains down on me.

  “He isn’t dead, you dumb fuck.” He lunges for me, one hand grabbing my throat while the other keeps me in place with the threat of a bullet. “From what I can piece together, it was a bullshit story to flush out a rat.” He tightens his grip, restricting my breath. “Keira set you up. She tested you. She fucking played you.”

  I raise my chin, sinking into the pain taking over my throat, letting it sharpen my thoughts. “No.” I don’t believe it. I won’t. “She must have told someone else. I didn’t breathe a word to anyone but you.”

  He glares his fury, his stare more lethal than any weapon. “The game is over. Quit the fucking act.”

  Fuck.

  I’m done.

  Dead.

  “Hunt…�
�� I swallow to clear the rasp from my voice. I can’t believe Keira betrayed me. I can’t figure out when. I don’t understand how. “Let me explain.”

  “Fuck.” He shoves me. “It’s fucking true?” He retreats a step and another, the gun still trained on me. “Jesus. Fuck.”

  Guilt takes over, the toxic agony rushing my veins, pounding into every limb, through all my organs.

  “Let me tell you every—”

  He rushes forward, grabbing me around the waist to haul me to the ground. My head hits the dirt. All the air leaves my lungs. I grapple to get on top, but I can’t bring myself to fight him. I fucking can’t.

  He straddles my waist, the gun still pointed, as he strikes with punishing blows. He punches my chest, my ribs, my stomach. Agony takes over my insides, the wounds more emotional than physical.

  “Fight back, you dog.”

  I can’t. I don’t want to.

  I deserve the punishment. I’ve earned the beating.

  “Do you know what you’ve done?” He keeps his fist cocked, preparing to make another strike. “You’ve put my neck on the line. You’ve made me look like a fucking accomplice. But that’s not the worst of it. You’ve done this to Sarah, and that’s un-fucking-forgivable.”

  He punches my sternum, the crack of bone ringing in my ears. I don’t do a thing to stop him. I won’t deny him the retribution. Not for himself. And definitely not for his woman.

  “I had no choice,” I wheeze.

  He lets out a derisive laugh. “Money or freedom? What did the DEA offer you?”

  “It’s not like that.” I shake my head and grunt as he lands another blow. “Luther is involved in horrible shit you can’t even imagine. He—”

  “Are you really going to make this about morality?” he roars. “I’m paid to kill people. You’re paid to help me.”

  “It’s more than—”

  He lands another blow, this one against my jaw, the smash of teeth and tongue filling my mouth with blood.

  “It’s more than death?” he bellows. “Fuck you, you traitorous little fuck. How am I going to explain this to Cole? How the fuck do I tell him you’re the informant?”

  Wait. What?

  “He doesn’t know?” I mumble through a mouth full of gore.

  “Nobody fucking knows. He thinks it was another external attack to take down his family. He’s pulling his hair out trying to find the culprit.”

  “But Keira…”

  “Hasn’t answered his calls. As far as I can tell, the dead-father strategy was something she thought of on her own.”

  “You’re telling me you had no proof?” I huff out a chuckle and my ribs protest with a bite of pain. “You were working on a hunch?” My laughter becomes maniacal. Delirious. “I fucked myself over? All I had to do was keep my mouth shut.”

  He grabs me by the shoulders and slams my back down on the ground. “If it wasn’t today, your dumb ass would’ve fucked up sooner or later.” He climbs off me, coming to stand beside my hip. “Get on your feet.”

  “No.” I remain one with the earth and spit the coppery taste from my mouth. “If you’re in such a hurry to kill me, you can do it like a coward.”

  He grabs the front of my shirt, twisting the material in his fist. “I’m in no hurry. I’m happy to make this slow if you like.”

  “I’d prefer if you fucking listened.” I prepare to play the only card I have—knowledge. “I’ve got years of research at my house. I’ve got thousands and thousands of files you’re going to want to see. Let me show you what they’re doing. Give me the chance to explain why I’m here.”

  “I don’t give a shit. I’ll never give a shit.”

  “Maybe not, but Sarah will. And she’ll never forgive you once she finds out. Especially if my death is on your hands.”

  His jaw ticks.

  “Come on, Luke. You don’t want to kill me.”

  He stiffens at the sound of his real name, his fury surging.

  “If you do this,” I continue, “I promise you’ll lose Sarah. She’ll leave you as soon as she learns the truth.”

  His hold on my shirt tightens as he presses the barrel right between my eyes. “If it’s so important, tell me.”

  I smirk, and my swollen lower lip protests over the movement. “You know that information is the only leverage I have.”

  “You’re wrong.” His voice softens. Slows. The defeated tone inciting fear. “You’ve got no leverage. You’ve got nothing but lies.”

  My friend disappears from sight, a cold-blooded killer taking his place. The barrel presses harder against my skull and I see death swirling in his eyes. My death.

  He’s going to pull the trigger.

  He’s going to end my life.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmur.

  His eyes glaze, the depth of his breaths increasing. He’s preparing himself, finding the necessary calm to do the job.

  “Hunt, believe me, I’m fuckin’ sorry.” For the past, the present, and now, the future.

  I duck to the left and slam his wrist upward, breaking the lethal trajectory of his weapon. The gun fires, the blast ringing in my ears as the bullet shoots toward the ceiling.

  He swings back toward me, and I latch onto his hand, shoving it in a high arc as I lean in and strike with a double elbow slash, the menacing blow hitting the right side of his jaw, then returning against his left. His head jerks with the motions. He stumbles.

  I don’t let go. I swing around into him, my back to his chest as I wrench his arm over my shoulder. His elbow hyperextends. He tries to choke me as I jerk him down, once, twice, threatening to break the joint before he gives in and drops the weapon.

  I keep him hostage as I kick the gun away and watch it skitter through the dust. He pummels my face with his free hand. But it’s not until he gouges at my eyes that I have to drop to my haunches and set him free.

  I scramble away and turn to face him nursing his elbow, his feet spread wide, knees bent, preparing for battle even though shock is written all over his face.

  He’s never seen me fight. He probably thought this smartass, tech head had no moves. Truth is, my skills have always been capable of rivaling his own. I didn’t storm into hell armed with nothing but a computer and a cocky attitude.

  I knew I’d have to fight for my life one day.

  Fight or die.

  “What’s wrong, Hunt?” I raise my brows, letting the adrenaline take over. “You didn’t anticipate me kicking your ass?”

  I studied him. I know he works best when he’s calm and in control. I don’t plan on letting him have either.

  He smirks, the curve of lips predatory and feral. “You fight like a little bitch.”

  “Says the man who had to lower himself to eye gouging.”

  “Lower myself?” He laughs. “I’ve been wanting to ruin your pretty boy face for a while.” He inches forward, beckoning me with his left hand. “Come on. Let’s finish this.”

  “I don’t want to finish it.” I steady myself, hands raised, waiting for him to strike. “I want you to walk out of here and go find my research.”

  “You think I don’t want that?” He comes closer, almost close enough to pounce. “If this was just me and you, things would be different. But I can’t protect Sarah from Torian. Not every minute of every damn day. You put me in the middle of this. And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her.”

  “We can leave. All three of us. We’ll start over somewhere new.”

  “You want me to run away with you?” He snickers. “That’s fuckin’ sweet. But I don’t run with snitches.” He rushes me, coming forward with right-left-right punches.

  The first blow hits my nose, then I block the next two strikes and take a hard step right at his last swing. As he moves by me, I launch my fist into the side of his face, knocking him off balance.

  “Motherfucker.” He rushes me again with a sloppy, uncalculated assault that I defend with a sharp side kick to the shin.

  He snarls, his eyes flar
ing with fury. “Kicking? Seriously? Where the fuck did you learn to fight?”

  “Look, man. I told you, we don’t need to do this.” I raise my hands in surrender. “Walk away while you still can.”

  “Still can?” He snickers. “Jesus, you’re one cocky prick.”

  And that’s exactly what I need to be to put him off his game. I can already feel his frustration. I can see it in his impulsive moves.

  He clenches his fists and holds them in front of his chest. “This is how real men fight. With their hands.”

  I shrug. “Seems like all it’s doing is getting your butt whooped.”

  I counter his circling steps, watching his every move, reading his expression. I know he’ll swing first. He lacks the patience to wait me out.

  “How long did you study me before you figured out a way for us to work together?” He feigns relaxation his expression doesn’t back up. He’s tense, tight, almost panicked.

  “You came to me for help, remember? You instigated this.”

  He flashes his teeth in a snarl, my verbal strike inflicting injury to his ego.

  In reality, it took months to find a way into his life. Then many more to train to fit the role. Hunter’s weakness has always been technology—computers, hacking, online surveillance.

  With a million hours’ study, I became a master. I built a name for myself so quickly in the Portland criminal circles that Hunter came running to me.

  He lunges, swinging a powerful blow. I dodge the punch, grab his wrist, and swing out my leg, using his own momentum to knock him off balance.

  He falls to his back, and I go down with him, bending his wrist while pinning his chest with my knee.

  “I’m not doing this anymore,” I growl.

  He swings at me with his left hand and bucks, fighting like an animal. I slice at the blows and grab the attacking arm, pinning it with force.

  “Go to my house. Find the information. Then pick a side.”

  The look he gives me is the most brutal offense. My bruises don’t mean shit. That pain will eventually fade. But I’ll never forget the loathing in his eyes. I won’t lose the guilt of what I’ve done to him.

  His lip curls. “Get fuc—”