by Eden Summers
I follow them down to the rental car and climb in, Decker in the back with me riding shotgun, trying not to burst an artery with my elevated pulse.
We drive into the heart of Portland, and the closer we get to the imposing buildings and busy streets, the more my stomach tumbles. I’m not concerned so much for my own safety. I’ve thought about this day for too long to not be at peace with whatever could happen to me—good, bad, or horrendously ugly.
What doesn’t sit right is what Hunter and Decker are risking for my personal vendetta. This has nothing to do with them. Yet, they’re here, driving me to a meeting they organized, to deliver a plan they came up with.
“If something goes wrong,” I speak to the window, unable to face them, “you need to turn on me. If he finds out I’m not telling the truth, do whatever you have to do. Make him believe you aren’t a part of this. Just get yourselves out of there safely. Okay?”
They don’t answer. There’s no response bar the soft hum of the radio.
“Hunter?” I turn to him. “Are you listening?”
“We won’t go down like that.” He flicks his gaze to the rear-view mirror, glancing at Decker. “Will we?”
“No, siree. We go down with this ship,” Decker adds. “In a blaze of glory and bloodshed, if necessary.”
Hunter sighs and focuses back on the road. “There won’t be any blaze of glory or sinking ship. This is going to work. And if Torian decides not to believe you, then that’s his problem. Just don’t change your story, no matter how strongly he doubts you.”
“But if—”
“We’re not discussing this, Sarah,” he growls. “Stick to the plan, and stop jinxing us.”
Right. I’m jinxing us.
I turn back to the window and hold my apprehension in check.
“This is it.” Hunter slows, pulling the car to the curb.
I glance around, trying to find our destination.
“Across the road.” Decker releases his belt and scoots toward the front seats. “The restaurant with the ugly motherfucker standing out front.”
I lean forward, taking in the quaint building and the overweight Italian-looking man standing at the front door.
“You wanted to know who ran you off the road.” Hunter taps his window, pointing at the ‘ugly motherfucker.’ “That’s him. My buddy, Carlos.”
My palms sweat. That guy has information on my past. Information that could get us killed once we walk inside the restaurant. “Aren’t you worried he’s told Torian about my past?”
“I wouldn’t have risked bringing you here if I did. I know him. I know what he’s like. He’s more scared of me than his boss and too spineless to do anything about it. After what I did to him the day he went to Seattle, I promise he won’t dare to cross me again.”
I want to ask what happened that day. What exactly did Hunter do? But the walking stick and full arm of plaster on the man at the door is a great indication. Especially after all the weeks that have passed.
“Should I be worried about approaching him?” I try to hide the concern from my voice.
“With me by your side?” Decker scoffs. “No way.”
Hunter grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. “You don’t need to worry at all. Okay?”
I nod, trusting him.
Actually trusting him.
I unfasten my belt and meet them outside the car, Hunter yet again reaching for my hand as we cross the road.
The man at the door leers at me as we approach, his dark eyes spiteful.
“Carlos,” Hunter greets. “How’s the arm?”
“Fuck you, asshole.”
Hunter chuckles, entirely unconcerned, and continues into the restaurant, me by his side and Decker close at our back. We pass a mass of filled tables and chairs with couples dining, and push by a staff entrance to enter a quiet hall.
“His office is the one at the end.” Hunter stops and turns to face me. “Just remember what we said. Keep it simple. Then this will all be over.”
I nod.
He’s making me nervous. His palm is clammy, and he keeps scrutinizing me. He’s panicked, and it’s rubbing off on me.
This is like any other job. If something goes wrong, I bend and adapt. Bend and adapt. I don’t stop until I’m safely on the other side.
I can do this. Easy.
I lean on the tips of my toes and place a kiss on his lips. Chaste. Quick. When I lower, he scowls and weaves an arm around my waist, yanking me back into him.
“Is that all I get?” he snarls and slams his lips against mine as if in punishment. Harsh and strong and deep. He kisses me and kisses me, making the world disappear and my heart sizzle.
Decker clears his throat. “I guess we all get a little horny when it comes to life-threatening situations. But can we save the celebrations until after we escape the drug lord’s lair?”
Hunter inches back and rests his forehead against mine.
“It’s just a thought,” Decker adds. “If you two want to keep going at it, I’ll wait. S’all good.”
“Remember what I said,” Hunter whispers.
I nod. “I remember it all. Don’t worry. I’ve been doing this for years.”
“Not with Torian, you haven’t. He’ll act as though he’s your best friend seconds before he tries to gun you down.”
“Stop worrying.” I step back. “You’re making me nervous.”
I walk away from him, continuing down the hall to stop in front of the door. I don’t pause. I don’t contemplate. I knock and wait for a muttered ‘come in’ before I turn the handle.
The man from the funeral sits behind an elegant wooden desk, pages upon pages of scattered paperwork spread before him. He leans back in his chair and greets us with a welcoming grin. “It’s great to see you all again.”
He stands, moves around the desk, and stops in front of me. “You’ll have to forgive me, but I’ve forgotten your name.” His hand brushes my bicep in a soft slide. It’s gentle and kind. Not exactly the reception I anticipated.
“Steph,” Hunter grates.
“Ahh, yes. The infamous Steph.” His touch falls from my arm. “A devilish vixen with a pussy capable of tempting even the most heartless of men. Isn’t that right, Hunter?”
“Let’s keep it professional,” Decker mutters.
“Of course.” Torian leans back against his desk and crosses his feet at the ankles. Calm, cool, controlled. “So, tell me, Steph. You were with Dan the night he died, is that right?”
I chance one last glance at Hunter who inclines his head in encouragement, then I face Torian head on. “Yes. For about an hour.”
“And why were you with him?”
“He’d been assaulting women, and nobody did anything about it. I took it upon myself to make him stop.”
His eyes glisten with a hint of pride. At least that’s what I think it is until he opens his mouth. “You murdered him selflessly? I don’t know if I should consider that admirably noble or entirely bloodthirsty.”
The assessment isn’t a shock. The remark that I murdered Dan, is.
I keep my focus straight ahead, fighting not to show my renewed horror. I can’t let this get to me. Not even if I am Dan’s murderer. Not even if Hunter has lied to me. Again. Not even if this is all a set-up.
“She didn’t kill him.” The words are snarled from beside me. “I did.”
“Really?” Torian cocks his head. “The investigator’s timeline says otherwise.”
I keep my chin high, my eyes focused.
Don’t take the bait.
I pretend the news doesn’t matter. That I’m so entirely heartless I don’t even care. How can I when I’m about to cause another death?
“Don’t believe him,” Hunter mutters. “I swear to God he’s messing with you.”
I shouldn’t look at him. I know I shouldn’t. But my gaze goes rogue, taking in Hunter’s tortured expression. My chest restricts. My throat tightens. I still believe him. I really do.
Tor
ian chuckles. “Am I? I guess we’ll never truly know.”
“We know,” Decker interrupts. “If Hunter says he did it, the only one who might have doubts is her, and you know it. Stop fucking around and ease up on her. You already know she was too scared to talk in the first place.”
I remain quiet, reclaiming my focus while they bicker.
Torian walks around his desk and takes a seat, kicking his polished shoes onto the scattered papers. “So, you played vigilante with Dan,” he muses. “When did Vaughn’s name come up?”
“Once the Rohypnol kicked in, he lost his mind a little. He started blurting things that didn’t make sense.”
“What sort of things?”
I shrug. “He said something about not giving me information unless I paid him. But the more I hurt him, the more he talked. He laughed about what he did to those women. Then began to panic over what his father would do if another story broke. And he mentioned Vaughn taking everyone down. That he was the name everyone was after.”
“And you’re sure it was Vaughn?”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
He nods, thoughts flickering in his eyes. “Are you aware that Vaughn has worked with me for a very long time?”
His tone changes. It has an edge now. A crisp bite of bitterness.
“What he is to you doesn’t concern me,” I answer honestly. “I’m only here to relay the information I was given. You can believe it or not. It doesn’t matter to me.”
He leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of his chest. “Did he say anything else?”
“He said a lot of things. About how he would rape me raw—”
Hunter stiffens.
“He told me he would kill my family. He made numerous threats, and even tried to negotiate. But nothing else to do with Vaughn.”
Torian stares at me, his gaze trekking my face with enough scrutiny to make me shiver. I want to elaborate, to place more intricate details into the story to make it more believable, but that’s where problems would arise. More details mean more lies, and more lies mean a bigger chance of getting caught in my dishonesty.
He turns his focus to Hunter. “You know vouching for her again will have significant consequences if she changes her story for a second time.”
I stiffen. I can’t help it. The stakes shouldn’t be this high. Not for him. Not for anyone but me. “Hold me fully responsible. And you can double or triple your consequences. It won’t matter. My account won’t change.”
He keeps narrowed eyes on Hunter. “He’s already vouched for you once. I need to make sure he isn’t making another mistake.”
“Yes,” the grated agreement comes from my left. From the lips of a man who shouldn’t have to risk anything for me. “I believe her.”
Torian nods and sits forward to open his top drawer. My heart rushes into painful arrhythmia waiting for him to pull out a gun. Decker must think the same thing because he steps closer, his chest brushing against my back.
Instead, Torian pulls out a cell and scrolls through it without a care in the world. “Do you know Zack, Steph?”
“I’d never heard the name until Dan mentioned it.” That is the God’s honest truth.
He presses buttons, ignoring me, disregarding the information. He’s not buying it. He’s not even listening anymore.
Shit.
I glance at Hunter, but he’s staring at Torian with intent, his jaw ticking. Watching. Waiting. Something has changed. Something I’m not aware of.
“Well…” Torian places the phone down and meets my gaze with a smile. “I appreciate the information.”
That appreciation in his tone seems ominously fake.
“Good. Am I right in assuming you’ll deal with the problem?” Hunter asks.
Torian sucks in a lazy breath and lets it out slowly. “Not yet. I want to make sure the information is authentic—”
“Authentic?” I glance at Hunter again, but his expression hasn’t changed. He’s still staring, chin high, shoulders straight. “How are you going to determine that?”
There’s a knock at the door, and my throat constricts.
“Come in,” Torian calls out.
The door opens, and Carlos limps inside, grinning. He’s not the problem, though. It’s the man who strolls in behind him and closes the door.
My heart stops.
I remember those blue eyes.
That sandy hair.
That confident gait.
I know.
I know.
Jacob turns from the door and follows Carlos, his steps faltering when his gaze reaches mine. He slows. Stops. Smirks. “Sarah?”
Everything burns. My limbs. Throat. Eyes. Heart. Oh, God, my heart. It threatens to take its final beat.
I stand tall, strong, and refuse to let the rage and rapidly building sorrow take over.
He’s here. Right here. With his styled hair, expensive suit, and playboy looks that I itch to burn from his flesh.
“What the fuck is going on here?” Hunter moves to my right, unsuccessfully trying to block my view of the monster from my nightmares. But I can still see him, sense him, feel him. The hollow taint of what he’s done wraps around me, tightening. Strangling.
“Pretend he’s not here,” Decker whispers in my ear. “Focus.”
Focus. It’s the one thing I can’t do right now.
“Like I said, I need to authenticate the information, and what better way to do it than by asking the accused to come to Portland to stand trial?” Torian continues to steeple his fingers, his eyes sparkling with devious delight. “By the sound of it, we already have a flaw in your story, Steph… Or is it Sarah?”
“There’s no flaw,” Hunter snarls.
“What am I accused of?” Jacob asks.
“Breathe,” Decker whispers in my ear. “Don’t panic.”
They all speak over one another, the voices garbled. I can’t shake it off. I can’t find the focus I need. Grief overwhelms me.
I’m failing. I’m failing. I’m failing.
“She claims Dan told her you are the informant who’s been ratting to the police.”
I swallow and find my voice. “It’s not a claim.”
“Like hell,” Jacob snarls. “This bitch is setting me up because I killed her family.”
“Is that true?” Torian’s joker mask slips away under his deepening frown.
“You don’t need to take my word for it.” Jacob steps forward, pulling a cell from the inside pocket of his business suit jacket. “Look it up online. There are a million and one articles about what I did.”
I’m fucked. No question.
Hunter grasps my hand, as if knowing I’m as good as dead. But I can’t go down like this. I refuse to let Jacob walk out of here. No matter what it takes. No matter what the price. I have to turn this around.
I need to bend and adapt.
I drop Hunter’s hand, gaining my independence, and paste on a smirk. “It’s true. He did kill my family. But I haven’t seen this man in ten years. I didn’t know he was still alive or that he changed his name. To me, this is fate.”
Karma.
The room erupts in vocal conflict. Jacob curses. Hunter defends me. Decker keeps whispering unnecessary motivation in my ear while Carlos grins.
“Quiet,” Torian shouts.
Hunter inches in front of me and widens his stance, parting his feet to act as a body shield. He knows what’s going to happen. He senses it, and it isn’t good.
Torian doesn’t believe me. He knows I’m lying.
Jacob begins to chuckle, the sound of victory sinking under my skin like acid.
I rest my forehead on Hunter’s shoulder blade and whisper a barely audible apology. I’m so sorry. So deeply, truly sorry as I place my hand on the low of his back, on the gun that always lies in wait.
He stiffens under my touch, fully aware of what’s running through my mind. “It’s okay,” he murmurs.
He’s certain he knows what I’m about to do.
He knows the increased danger I will put us all in. He knows. And still, he doesn’t try to stop me. He lets me know it’s perfectly fine to risk his life. That he’s here for me. Always willing to fight for me.
“I’m sorry, Torian,” I say louder. “I don’t expect you to understand.” I reach under Hunter’s jacket, remove the gun from his waistband and shove him forward, out of the way.
“Stop,” Torian shouts.
But it’s too late. I raise the barrel before anyone has time to reach for a weapon, Jacob’s eyes widening in realization.
“For my family,” I whisper, and pull the trigger.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
And the last, for baby Thomas.
The bullets pepper his chest, jolting him with each impact. I breathe in his horror, delighting in his shock. I barely register Hunter stepping back into me, arms wide, returning to his role as human shield, while Decker smothers my back.
I’m sandwiched but all I can see is Jacob as he stumbles backward, collapsing to the floor, his hands clutching his chest in vain as blood soaks his clothes.
I hear shouts. Threats. My name. I hear instructions, but the words don’t penetrate. The only thing seeping deep into my chest is victory. Relief. The bitter-sweet euphoria of vengeance.
Sarah, pay attention.
It’s my father’s voice, his guidance snapping me back to the present, to the room full of drawn guns.
Decker’s is trained on Carlos. Carlos’s on me. Torian’s on Hunter. Mine on the wall, at the space where a murderer once stood.
“Her actions are justified,” Hunter says in a rush. “He killed her family. You would’ve done the same.”
Screams carry from down the hall. The rough scrape of chairs and scampering feet.
“Her justification means nothing when she brought this feud into my family’s restaurant. She killed one of my men.” Torian looms over his desk, the barrel of his gun aimed at Hunter’s chest. “Step aside.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Do it.” I push at Hunter’s back. “Please.”
He doesn’t budge.
I could probably get another shot off and take Carlos down with me, but I wouldn’t have a chance with Torian. He would kill my determined protector before Carlos hit the ground.
“Move, Hunter,” I plead.
