Hunter

by Blaire Drake

  Isaiah chuckled darkly. “Gaige? Yeah. He was born with marbles in the place of testicles. Little prick.”

  “Goodnight, Isaiah.”

  Chapter Eleven – Adriana

  I batted Rossi away from my cereal bowl, even though I'd finished. The cat was crazy enough without being hopped up on Fruit Loop infested milk. He meowed in protest, so I reached forward, picked him up, and threw him on the floor. He hissed his frustration before he leaped up onto the sill and out of the window.

  He even knocked over a picture frame for good measure.

  Asshole cat.

  I picked up the frame and put it back in its rightful place. The sound it made as it hit the sill echoed through the house, despite its size. It didn't seem to matter how big this place was. I could hear everything. Especially today.

  I was hyper-sensitive to everything, almost.

  Every gust of wind. Every shutting of a door. Every single sound, no matter how quiet it was, seemed like the most deafening slam.

  And I knew why.

  I wasn't staring at the doorway for no reason.

  Isaiah was here. My father's consigliere. His best friend. Adviser. Confidante.

  The man that was the cousin of my keeper but the most trusted ally of the man who wanted me dead.

  I didn't know who to believe. It seemed as though the last ten years of my life had been a lie. Like every second, minute, hour, had been nothing more than a tactical ploy to keep me alive.

  Maybe it had been. Did it bother me? Yes. I'd rather have died honestly than stayed alive deceitfully.

  What was life, really? It sure as hell wasn't a mixture of love and honesty. It was closer to a clusterfuck of bullshit and lies.

  I wondered what my true purpose was. To lead the Romano family? To die? To live in a state of existence that was neither dead nor alive?

  Where was my hero to sweep me off of my motherfucking feet? Cinderella? Snow White?

  Rapunzel, you bitch.

  I stared at the pistol Darien had set on the coffee table. Loaded. Safety removed. Ready to fire, he'd said. Pull the trigger, and if the aim is right, the target is minced meat. Nothing more than dinner.

  It was shiny. I had a despicably bad knowledge of firearms for who I was, but he'd never complained. I knew how to fire many guns, even if I didn't know what they were or what they were capable of, but he didn't mind.

  If I knew how to shoot it, I knew how to hurt someone. If I knew how to aim it and then shoot someone, I knew how to kill someone. I knew how to protect myself.

  That's all that mattered to him.

  I guess it was all that really mattered.

  Never mind that he'd only gone to the grocery store to get some milk. You'd think he was leaving me for a week the way he'd gone on. Maybe he didn't trust Isaiah as much as he'd assured me he did.

  It wasn't exactly a reassuring thought.

  I sighed and picked up my bowl. It'd been sitting on the table for two hours, so no wonder Rossi wanted the milk. He'd probably watched from the start and had a kitty ticker in his head for when it'd be fair game.

  I put my bowl in the sink then went upstairs to get dressed. I was aware of the real ticking of the Grandfather clock in Darien's office as I passed it. The time for Hunter and Isaiah to get here was drawing closer, and I was still wearing tiny cotton shorts and no bra. I really needed to get a move on and get ready, even if a part of me was certain I was inviting death into my house.

  Then again, I'd slept with death not twenty-four hours earlier, so what did I know?

  I kicked my door shut behind me. Damn it, no. I didn't want to think about being with Hunter. I didn't want to think about fucking him again. It made me... well, it turned me on. Not to mention that I didn't want to have to see him with the memory of what we did still newly fresh in my mind.

  I shook my head and pulled some clothes out of the dresser. Jeans and a shirt—and a bra.

  Once I was dressed properly, I brushed my hair and applied a couple of licks of mascara to my eyelashes. I looked somewhat human again, although I felt sick.

  I was terrified about Isaiah's arrival, and I knew that if he was going to kill me, he was going to do it within seconds of coming face to face with me. I also had no idea how Hunter would change with the consigliere around. Would he still be Hunter, or would he be the guy who walked in my house wearing a balaclava days ago?

  I didn't know.

  I was afraid to find out.

  I heard the buzzing of my phone as it vibrated on the kitchen island. I knew it would be Gaige calling to check on me. I didn't want to answer it—I was afraid that if I did, he'd know that I was hiding something from him.

  Like my father's consigliere.

  God, I was such a bad friend. And person, really. I'd barely even apologized for his pissing contest with Hunter in the back yard. Not that I had anything to apologize for. I wasn't the one who'd flexed my muscles and spread out my peacock feathers to express my sexual prowess.

  Men. And I wondered why I was single.

  I checked my phone and saw I was right. The missed call was from Gaige. I felt guilty when I cleared the notification without even texting him, but he knew me too well. Ten words in and he'd know something was up, so it was easier to ignore it.

  I'd deal with it later. Or ask Darien to. I wasn't afraid to admit I was a bit of a wimp. And a terrible, terrible person.

  The front door opened. “Addy?”

  “In the kitchen,” I called back to Darien. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge as he came in carrying a brown paper grocery bag. “I thought you were only buying milk.”

  He put the bag down on the island and met my eyes. A smile teased his lips. “The candy was on sale.”

  I shook my head and pulled the bag toward me. “You're a grown man, Darien,” I scolded him. “You don't need—oooh, Nerds!” I pulled the bright colored box out of the bag and opened it.

  “You're a grown woman, Adriana. You don't need Nerds for breakfast,” Darien said playfully, reaching for the candy.

  I stepped back and clutched the box to my chest. “If I'm a grown up, I can eat candy for breakfast. There's no one to stop me. That's the fun part about being an adult. I get to do what I want.”

  He stared at me for a moment before he realized arguing wasn't the best idea. Instead he just shook his head, smiled, and pulled the bottle of milk out of the bag.

  I put a handful of Nerds in my mouth and pulled out a stool. I sat on it as my phone rang again. Gaige. Again.

  “He's gonna keep calling you,” Darien said, closing the fridge. “You know it.”

  “I know, but I don't want to lie to him about Isaiah being here.” I waited for the call to end, then changed the setting to 'silent.'

  God, I felt awful.

  “So you're ignoring him altogether?” He raised an eyebrow and flattened his hands on the island to lean forward. “Adriana...”

  I sighed and put down the box of Nerds. He wasn't going to let this go. “Look... Since Hunter showed up with the finesse of a rhinoceros, it's just been... awkward. Gaige hates him on default, and he was here yesterday when you made Hunter babysit me. They both got their hackles up. I don't think it's a good idea to tell Gaige that another guy who could potentially want me dead is about to come over for coffee and cake.”

  “Isaiah doesn't like cake. Unlikely you'll be sharing one.”

  “Can we please focus on the issue here, Dar? I know he's your cousin but that doesn't mean anything. For all I know, Hunter has decided to kill me after all. We have no idea what's going to happen and we need a plan in case it doesn't work out the way we're expecting.”

  “All right, then let's think of a plan.” He stood up straight and reached for his water bottle. “What are you thinking?”

  What would Mamma do? I knew exactly what she'd suggest if she were here. We'd escaped once before, and being prepared for all situations was necessary. “Pack a bag and take the alternative identity documents out of the s
afe.” I got up before Darien could respond and walked down the hall.

  I remembered the day we picked out the picture that would cover the wall safe. I hated it then and I hated it now. I didn't even know what it was of—it was an abstract mix of color and shapes that Mamma had loved but I thought had been puked up by a newborn. Still, it was an unassuming place to hide a safe.

  I pulled the picture down from the wall, revealing the shiny, black door of the safe. I twisted the code in and opened it. There was a small rucksack folded up at the front, and the first thing I did was pull it out and give it a good shake.

  There was no use having a shit ton of cash and documents in a safe if there was nowhere to put them in a pinch. And there was no way I could fit a thousand bucks in my bra.

  I took the rolls of cash and dropped them in the bottom of the bag, then slid in the brown manila envelope. It had drivers licenses, birth certificates, and passports for both me and Darien. If we ever needed them, I'd be Penelope Dawson and he'd be my father, Andrew Dawson.

  Satisfied I had some kind of safeguarding, I shut the safe and replaced the picture before grabbing the bag and taking it into my room. I packed nothing but the basics, then went to the laundry room and did the same for Darien.

  The second safe was hidden in here. One of many. Mamma was never paranoid, but she was always aware of the fact that my father would find us one day, so she insisted on being prepared.

  In that moment, as I climbed on top of the dryer to get to the cupboard, I was thankful for it.

  I opened the cupboard and removed the dud box of soap. It was full of sand to give the impression that it was new, and once upon a time, I'd laughed when she'd done it. “Who'd hide a safe in a laundry room cupboard?” I'd asked her, and she'd responded with a wink and an, “Exactly.”

  My lips twitched into a sad smile at the memory, and I paused for a moment. Sometimes, I missed her badly. Times like this was one of them. I wanted nothing more than her to walk in here, roll up her sleeves, and take control.

  But she couldn't. She never would again. So it was down to me.

  I opened the safe and pulled out the loaded 9mm pistol.

  This wasn't paranoia.

  I double-checked the barrel. Yep—loaded. Enough to kill if I had to.

  This was preparation.

  I closed the safe, replaced the soap, and jumped down from the dryer. I wrapped the gun in one of my shirts in the bag and zipped it up.

  There. Now I felt like I was prepared.

  Well. I looked down at my bare feet. Almost prepared. I wouldn't get very far without any shoes.

  I carried the bag back through to my room, put on some shoes, and then went back into the kitchen. Darien didn't look like he'd moved—he was still leaning against the island, his eyes fixed on the hallway. He had a tiny smile teasing the corners of his mouth, and his eyes glimmered when they met mine.

  “There.” I put the bag on the countertop in front of him. “Clothes, money, documents, gun. If Isaiah tries to kill me, I can run.”

  “And if he tries and he hits you?”

  I shrugged. “Then I die.”

  He paused for a moment before he smiled softly. “You're just like your mamma.”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out, because I didn't know what to say. I didn't think I was. Mamma was brave and in control. She was strong and fought for what she believed in, no matter what the consequences were. She'd argued many corners that should have cost her her life.

  “Maybe your idea about killing Enzio isn't so crazy after all,” Darien added, pushing off the island as three knocks sounded at the door. He disappeared before I could say anything then, too.

  Ironically, I was starting to wonder if it was crazy. But then again, he was sending the fight to me...

  “Well fuck me. Alexandria, you haven't aged a bit.”

  I knew the voice.

  I turned my head slowly toward the door. My eyes fell on Isaiah. Like Darien, he didn't look like he was in his fifties. He looked closer to thirty, and the only hint of his age was in the small lines at the corners of his eyes, and the silvery wisps of hair above his ears.

  “You know damn well I'm not Alexandria, Isaiah,” I said slowly, watching him as he walked toward me. “So cut the bullshit.”

  He grinned. It was an easy grin that spread across his face. “I know. I just like fuckin' with ya, Adriana. Look exactly like her, and it doesn't get much better than that.”

  My tongue ran over my bottom lip. “What are you doing here? Finishing Hunter's job?”

  “Why? You ordered him to kill your father, Princess? Because if so, sign me the fuck up.” He slapped his hand against the kitchen island. “That dumb fuck.”

  “Give it a goddamn rest with the dumb fuck, Isaiah,” Hunter sighed, walking in behind him. “Enzio's a dumb fuck. We know. Everyone is a dumb fuck.”

  “Shut up, dumb fuck.” Isaiah turned and clipped him around the back of the head. “He's lucky to be alive this morning,” he directed to me. “Snores like a pig.”

  Hunter laughed. “Yeah, I'm the one who snores. You almost took out a window.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You had a sleepover? What did you do—strip down to your underwear and have a pillow fight? Eat raw cookie dough? Watch Bridget Jones' Diary?”

  “She's got sass,” Isaiah observes, cocking a thumb toward me. “I like it.”

  I glared at him. I could safely say that this wasn't exactly how I imagined this conversation going. Nope, I didn't imagine Isaiah bringing the sass and swearing like a fifteen year old boy, and I didn't imagine Hunter heading straight for the coffee machine and the cookie tin.

  What kind of parallel universe was I in?

  “You look confused, Addy.” Hunter turned around, holding an empty coffee mug.

  “Do I? I can't imagine why.”

  “Probably 'cause you though I was gonna kill you, sweetheart,” Isaiah answered.

  “No,” I responded flatly. “I thought we were going to bake fairy cakes together.”

  He shuddered. “Fuckin' cake.”

  Hunter laughed and put down the mug. His eyes found the bag on the island, and his smile twisted into a smirk. “Going somewhere?”

  “I'm prepared to,” I answered, pulling the bag closer to me. “How did I know you two were coming in like you're best friends? I thought you were going to kill me.”

  “Well, given that I've already tried and I failed miserably, there wasn't much of a chance of me trying to kill you a second time.” Hunter grinned.

  “I can try and kill you if it'd make you feel better,” Isaiah offered. “I don't mind.”

  “Uh... I think I'll pass, thanks.” I perched on the stool. “Once in a week is more than enough for me. Are you alone?”

  “Did I come alone?” he questioned, and I nodded. “Yes. Your father trusts me entirely and is counting on me to kill not just you, but this shitfuck over here.” He jerked his head in Hunter's direction. “And let me tell you something, Adriana, your father is stupid.”

  “Really, Isaiah, I didn't need you to tell me that. I figured that out ten years ago.”

  “Yeah, that was a shit move. Cost him ten million, if you'd believe it. They gave him a week to find you, and when he couldn't, they doubled what he owed and made him pay in cash.” Isaiah pulled out a box of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. “Do you mind?”

  “Uh, a little. We can go outside.” Armo smoked, so we kept an ashtray outside for whenever he was here. I stood and carried the bag to the back door. I wasn't going anywhere without the bag. It was my safety blanket in that moment.

  Isaiah and Hunter followed me out, and we were joined by Darien just as Isaiah sparked a match.

  “Rossi tried bringing you a dead bird,” Darien explained. “It was quite the feat to get it away from him and convince him you didn't need a crow.”

  “He caught a crow?”

  “Yeah, just a little one. He's probably trying to find you something
else.” Darien sat down. “What are we talking about?”

  “Them.” Isaiah blew out a long cloud of gray-blue smoke and tapped ash into a small tray in the middle of the table. “As I was saying, they made him pay up in cash, and that's when he expanded the family business into the darker sides that your mamma refused to. He needed to make back the money and quick, and re-establish the Romano family as something to be feared.”

  “Darker sides?” I asked. “Like what?”

  “Human trafficking, for one. Extortion. Blackmail. He's intercepted more than enough drug smuggling rings and paid them off. Made a shit ton that way.” He dragged on the cigarette. “Helped a cartel or two get their shit in and out for a good price. He's got a finger in every pie, but he lacks the brain cells to realize those pies are hot.”

  I looked down. I wasn't surprised by that, but the human trafficking gave me chills. I knew the mafia world was full of lies and blood and darkness, but that was the one thing Mamma always refused to do. She said she'd rather die than help sick motherfuckers get their kicks out of vulnerable girls. She said that as a woman, it was her duty to protect them, not condemn them.

  I shouldn't have been surprised. Not really. The man had tried to sell his own daughter to pay off his gambling debts.

  “What about the finances?” I asked quietly. “Did he gamble them all away?”

  “Ah-ha. No.” Isaiah stubbed out his cig. “He directed me to control the movement of the money, and I did. Right into a secure bank account in your name.”

  “And he didn't know?”

  “Why would he know? He doesn't like getting his hands dirty, Adriana. Whereas your mother was sure to double check every document, every dollar—hell, the woman questioned a fucking missing quarter once, only to find out you'd borrowed it—your father doesn't do a thing. He's lazy. He asks everyone else to do everything for him. He doesn't even leave the Hamptons. He's too afraid of death for that.”

  “Ironic that his most trusted friend is the one who wants him dead,” Hunter snorted.

  “I don't want him dead. I wouldn't mind it,” Isaiah admitted.

  Darien shook his head.