by Lexie Ray
HEROES
To Love a Killer, Book 3
L E X I E R A Y
Copyright © 2014
Published by: Rascal Hearts
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
For questions and comments about this book, please contact us at [email protected]
Cover Art: Rosy England Fisher
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter One
Not a second after she fired the shot, it occurred to Hunter that someone could’ve heard. There was no telling who occupied the neighboring rooms. Someone in the motel could be calling it in, reporting the noise at this very moment to the police. The smart thing to do would be to get out of there—run outside to the car, drive off, and continue with her plan—but Detective Sarah Voss wasn’t dead. She wasn’t even shot.
As the last traces of the shot murmured then vanished, Sarah straightened out of the defensive hunch she had balled into and put her hands up.
Hunter’s gun remained poised at Sarah. Her elbows were locked, and her muscles were tensed in effort to keep the gun raised. It felt so heavy, so cold. Her arms turned numb and rubbery from its weight under trembling hands.
There was no way to process, sort through, and make sense of what Sarah had told her. The way she was staring at Hunter now, wide eyed and unblinking, it was as though she thought that if she stared long enough and hard enough at Hunter, Hunter would eventually see herself in Sarah or recognize some evidence of their relationship and lower the gun. It felt like an invasion and gave Hunter the creeps.
“I didn’t have to miss, you know,” said Hunter. Her voice was low and gruff, exhausted.
“We know,” said Ash.
He was still standing beside that woman. It was so wrong. His use of the word “we” cut through Hunter like an icy betrayal. Although his tone was warm, it was too warm, condescending.
Why would Ash bring the detective here? It wasn’t so much the poor planning and naïve logic on Ash’s part that made Hunter seethe with anger. It was the fact that the act of bringing Sarah here defied Hunter’s wishes. It went against what she wanted, as though Hunter didn’t matter to him or her opinion didn’t count. It was infuriating that Ash didn’t consider her an equal.
“You think you can make decisions for me,” Hunter said, looking Ash straight in his dark, brooding eyes. “You can’t.”
“That’s not what I think,” he countered.
“It’s what you’re doing,” said Hunter.
“Things are not going to go down the way you think they are,” he said, dropping his warm tone to an authoritative depth. “Sarah is a piece to a much larger puzzle. I thought you’d want to know that. She’s offering her help. How can you turn that down?”
An onslaught of panicky thoughts entered Hunter’s head in relentless succession, causing her mind to go blank—almost as an act of rebellion against the chaos she couldn’t control. Hunter couldn’t identify anything she was thinking or feeling. It all felt like barbed wire, knotting in her head and her stomach.
The gun was rattling in her shaking hands, but the noise it made sounded far off, muffled, almost as though it was under water. Hunter had a vague sense that her hands had begun to shake with tremors, like a delayed reaction to a last minute decision not to kill—but to warn. In the twisted chaos of her mind, Hunter knew they weren’t heeding her warning. Would someone have to die before she was taken seriously?
Ash scanned Hunter’s face. He was afraid she was becoming trapped inside herself, slipping away from the present, as though everything had finally caught up with her. Her large brown eyes seemed flat, but not vacant. Her mouth held the sort of tension expressed only by an angry or terrified person; yet, it wasn’t slack.
Hunter wasn’t empty; but, she could be soon. Ash knew that if she blacked out, spiraling downward into a fugue state, she would be capable of anything. She could kill anyone—no matter how much she loved them. He had almost seen the worst of it back in her apartment when she had become triggered by her father, and she nearly sliced his throat. She could have killed him. The fact that she hadn’t was nothing more than luck, and it would be a bad idea to push their luck now.
“Hunter,” he said softly, aiming to inspire her trust. “Please hang on, Blair needs you. I need you.”
Blair. The thought of her younger sister cut through the noise that cluttered her mind. They had to rescue Blair. Time was running out. In less than a day, her sister would be sacrificed in their father’s sick ploy to lure Hunter back to the farmhouse. It was only a game to Grizzly; but, it was terrifying how well he played it. Hunter felt less like an opponent than a pawn. Had her father orchestrated this very moment, as well? Was this just another chess move to further his dark agenda and take Hunter captive? Was he simply claiming all her pieces and winning the match?
“I know she needs me,” said Hunter, darkly. “So, why are you letting this stranger stand in my way?”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” said Sarah. Although she feared Hunter might overreact if she asserted herself in any way, she could hold her tongue no longer.
“Shut up,” said Hunter, spitting through her teeth.
Hunter wanted to go off on the woman, set her straight, and make it clear that she didn’t want to hear a word out of her. She wanted the woman to understand that she was hanging on by a very thin thread, and the only thing separating Hunter from a dark abyss was a fraying thread of trust. Holding back from really killing Sarah was becoming harder and harder.
Then, Hunter got an idea. If there was one thing she had learned from her father, though she hated to admit it, it was how to use people. Maybe she had been way too honest. Maybe wearing her heart on her sleeve only served to expose her vulnerabilities. Maybe it was time to deceive everyone around her into playing on her side as her pawns. The thought sickened her. The idea that she would borrow anything from her father, even if it was only a strategy, made her queasy with disgust. However, she knew that sometimes the best way to beat someone at their own game was to play it better.
It was as though the decision to play his game—actually enter into and engage in her father’s sick logic—calmed her. Hunter felt her chest rise and fall with steady breaths. Her face felt cool, and her hands seemed firm and strong.
She lowered the gun to a relaxed position at her hip—though she kept it aimed at Sarah—and glanced over at Ash. His messy mop of brown hair fell at unkempt angles against his cheeks, over his ears, and into his eyes. He glanced at her through his locks; his steel-blue gaze was piercing. Their eyes locked. Hunter remembered the first time she looked into those eyes. She had felt like she was falling into them, as though she was floating across the hallway towards him. She couldn’t escape that magnetic gaze. How would any of this have played out if she hadn’t fallen for Ash? There was no telling.
“Have a seat, Ash,” said Hunter, coolly with an edge of demand. “And make sure you’re sitting on the side you want to play on.”
The instruction—with its implied threat—made the corners of Ash’s mouth curl into a smile. He tr
ied his best to contain his pride at her firm demand. He walked to the far side of the bed and sat down so that he fell into alignment with Hunter—on her side.
“Don’t interrupt,” said Hunter, clearly directing the statement to Ash; however, her eyes were now locked on Sarah. “You said you were there the whole time during my childhood,” Hunter said, turning the interrogation sharply on Sarah. “How?”
Sarah was eager to believe Hunter could be receptive to what she had to say, but she couldn’t allow herself to blindly trust that possibility so long as Hunter kept a gun on her. “I can explain, but you need to put down the gun first.”
“No,” said Hunter, jumping on Sarah’s request. “You are not in control of this situation. You will not be in control of this situation. I can kill you any time I like. I don’t give a shit if you’re my mother. You are going to answer my questions, leaving nothing out. And the second you stop cooperating, you’re dead. It’s as simple as that. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” said Sarah in a tone that sounded suddenly withered. “I don’t want to see you getting into more trouble than I can get you out of, Hunter.”
“Shut up,” she snapped, silencing her mother. “You’re being manipulative and aren’t answering the question.”
“Ok,” said Sarah. “I made visits.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t know what it was like being with a man like Lorne,” said Sarah, asserting herself in a way that grated on Hunter’s patience.
“Don’t I, though?”
“Ok,” said Sarah, sounding increasingly defeated. “I’m going to give you a very short, straight forward answer. However, there’s so much more to it than what I’m about to say.”
“I’m waiting,” said Hunter, as she raised the gun to its original position.
“Please,” she said, her palms opening wide. Sarah was genuinely confused and fearful that perhaps Hunter would kill her if she didn’t like what she heard.
“Talk, Sarah.”
“After he took you, I wanted to go to the police; but, he told me he’d kill you if I did anything like that. So, I didn’t. But I needed to be sure you were alive and well, otherwise I wouldn’t keep up my end of the bargain.”
“I don’t remember you coming to the farmhouse,” said Hunter. “I don’t remember you at all.”
“But do you remember anything from your childhood?” asked Sarah.
Hunter’s gaze fell to the floor. She remembered enough—but not everything. She had even blocked out Blair. It was possible she had blocked out her own mother, as well.
Hunter’s eyes darted back up to Sarah.
“I didn’t know where you were,” Sarah continued. “He used to bring you to meet me at random locations. I had very little information about him. I didn’t know where he lived or where he was keeping you. I never saw him other than the periodic visits he would schedule between the three of us.”
“When did he get Blair?” asked Hunter.
“It was a trick,” said Sarah. Her eyes went dark, as though a thirst for revenge was being stirred up, emerging from deep inside. “Hunter, you have to believe me when I say I didn’t know what was really happening to you or your sister. It wasn’t until recently that I learned about what really goes on at the farmhouse and about its location.”
“Were you always a cop?” asked Hunter.
“Yes,” said Sarah.
“And you left New Hampshire? Left your daughters behind with a maniac?” said Hunter, refusing to let the tears well up in her eyes and fighting the harsh sting that resulted.
“No, Hunter,” said Sarah. “We’re from Brooklyn. It was Lorne who took you girls up north, away from me. We used to live in a pretty bad part of Gowanus. It amazes me that you found your way back there, and you didn’t even know it. That’s how I was able to find you, finally. Because you finally came home.”
Hunter lowered the gun, stepping backwards until she was met with the edge of the bed. She sat, cradling the gun in her lap without a care for where it was pointing.
The intensity that was gripping Sarah softened the second Hunter was on the bed. She wouldn’t feel completely at ease until the gun was out of her daughter’s hand, but this was a start. She could tell Hunter was beginning to consider the truth about what had happened. Sarah anticipated more questions, many more, but at least it was starting to feel like they were coming together on the same side.
It was possible that Sarah was being truthful, but Hunter wasn’t about to blindly trust what she had said. First, Hunter needed to consider any motivations Sarah might have for lying. She took a moment and viewed things from that angle. When she decided that there weren’t any motivations that made sense, she was able to come to the conclusion that Sarah probably wasn’t lying—but that didn’t mean she could be trusted.
“So what are you doing here?” asked Hunter. “Why are you following me?”
“Coincidence, really.”
“I don’t believe in coincidences.”
“Well, it was,” said Sarah.
“He was tipping you off,” said Hunter.
“You’re right,” said Sarah. The station had gotten several anonymous tips called in from a man who provided Hunter’s address, linking her to the sugar factory murder.
“So explain,” said Hunter.
“I’m here now, and it isn’t to arrest you. It’s to make sure you don’t get arrested.”
“That means nothing,” said Hunter. “Grizzly doesn’t want me arrested either, but that doesn’t mean he’s on my side. He only wants me free from the cops so he can trap me. The police would ruin his game.”
“I don’t want you to be trapped, Hunter. You’re being paranoid,” said Sarah, even though she knew she shouldn’t push her luck by saying anything more than what Hunter was asking her. “I want to help you get him. I want him to go down for this—for all of it. Hunter, you need to accept my help, and you need to accept my protection. Without me, you’ll go to prison for a very long time or, even worse, he’ll kill you.”
Ash laid his hand over hers on the bed. Clearly, he agreed with Sarah. Ash was always so skeptical and scrutinized everything. Why was he so quick to believe this woman?
The cell phone inside Sarah’s trench coat vibrated, buzzing loudly against the fabric.
In an instant, Hunter was at her feet, the gun pointing at Sarah.
“Don’t,” said Hunter.
“I should at least see who it is. My phone has GPS. If my partner is on his way to me, we need to know that.”
“Tell me who it is,” said Hunter. “And move slowly.”
Sarah slipped her hand into her pocket, cautious not to move too quickly, and extracted the cell. She glanced down at the screen, as it continued to buzz with pulsing vibrations in her hands.
“It’s Linden,” said Sarah before clarifying. “My partner.”
“We should let her answer it,” said Ash.
Sarah took a deep breath, “It’s the middle of the night and my partner’s calling. It isn’t good news. I have to take the call.”
“Fine,” said Hunter. “Be quick and don’t tell him anything. If I hear you speaking in code or something, you’re dead.”
Sarah flipped the phone open.
“Voss.”
Hunter couldn’t hear the content of what Sarah’s partner was saying, and it put her on edge. “Put him on speaker,” said Hunter, as she approached Sarah.
Sarah lowered the phone from her ear and tapped the screen.
“…I vacationed up here a bunch, on the lakes mostly. Anyway that’s how I got in good with the Sheriff’s Department. The local police are on their way, but they don’t object whatsoever if we want to show up as well. It’s the Motel 6. The call came in a good ten minutes ago, so they should be there any second. I think we ought to check it out as well. Could be our girl.”
“Thanks, Linden,” said Sarah. “I’ll see you there.” Sarah snapped her phone shut and returned it to her pocket.
“Did you get that?”
“Someone reported the gunshot,” said Hunter, turning to Ash. “We have to get out of here right now.”
“I’ll wake Twitch, start the car,” said Ash who was already on his feet.
Sarah kneeled down.
“What are you doing?” asked Hunter, aggressively. As far as Hunter was concerned, this woman shouldn’t so much as sneeze without her permission.
“The shell casing,” said Sarah. “Let’s not make it easy on them.”
Once Sarah had picked up the casing, she walked back to the wall and began to pry the bullet out of the wall that could have killed her if Hunter had felt more daring.
Just before Ash opened the door, Sarah said over her shoulder, “Don’t do anything without me. Don’t even dream about going to that farmhouse on your own.”
Finally, the bullet popped out of the wall. Sarah looked down at it in her hand. The bullet clinked and rattled against its shell casing in her palm.
“Go to the car, Ash,” said Hunter.
Ash left the door open a crack behind him on his way out.
Hunter held her palm open for Sarah to leave the evidence with her.
“I don’t want you. I don’t need you,” said Hunter, looking Sarah dead in the eye. “And I’ll do as I please.”
“That would be a huge mistake,” said Sarah.
“If you want to help me,” said Hunter in a low whisper. “You’ll follow my lead and do as I say. I’ll collect your opinion when I need it.”
Sarah had no words to argue, none that would get through to her daughter at least.
“Take this,” said Sarah, pulling a small cell phone from her back pocket. “It’s a burner phone, disposable and untraceable. My number’s programed in. I’m begging you. Don’t do anything without me. There’s so much more you need to know about your father before you can possibly pull off something like this. When you get to a safe place, let me know. I’ll come. We’ll talk. We’ll do this right.”
Hunter glared at Sarah but took the phone. In an instant, she was gone from the room.
