Altered: Carter Kids #6

by Chloe Walsh

I didn’t want her to know this about me; this ugly fucking creature that lived just beneath the surface.

  She saw it that night though.

  She saw me revel in taking his life – in removing the threat.

  And she liked it.

  I think that scared me the most.

  She wanted me to take his life and I wanted to please her.

  She had power over me that was dangerous.

  I loved her enough that it made me an atomic fucking weapon at her disposal.

  I'd gone dark again; to a place I promised myself I would never return to.

  A kill was a kill.

  But killing for love made it personal.

  It was personal now.

  All my cards were on the table, and I would have to finish this.

  I was all fucking in.

  Regardless of whether she chose me or not, I was in too damn deep to walk away.

  Her staying alive was my goal.

  It was all I could do.

  The things I was going to have to do would split us apart.

  But I wouldn’t stop.

  She was going to live.

  If I had to die to make that happen, then so fucking be it.

  I'd been ready for death a long time now.

  But it was going to be worth it.

  If I was going out, I was taking that piece of shit with me.

  ****

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Hope

  The knocking on the front door that had begun several minutes ago, had now progressed into loud hammering.

  I didn’t care who was there.

  I expected whoever was at the door would eventually give up and go away.

  Either way, I had no intentions of answering.

  It could be one of two people, and both would be looking for Jordan.

  He wasn’t here – hadn't even come home last night.

  And I wasn’t his secretary.

  "Hope Carter, you better open this damn door girl!" a familiar female voice demanded from the other side of the door. "Don’t make me climb in through the window in my condition," she added. "Because I'll do it! But I'll have to kick your ass once I'm done."

  Practically falling off the couch in my bid to get to her, I rushed into the hallway and threw open the front door.

  And there she was.

  Teagan Messina, standing in my doorway, looking like a tiny, pregnant halo of blondness.

  "I knew it," she hissed, brown eyes narrowed and locked on my face. "I fucking knew something was wrong." She shook her head, as if mentally scolding herself. "You need to tell me who did this to you, so I can go cut a bitch."

  "Oh, Teegs," I choked out as I threw myself at my best friend. "I'm in so much trouble.

  ****

  There were no words to describe how much I had missed Teagan Messina.

  Sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee in my hands, listening to my best friend rant and rave and plot violence was the closest I'd come to feeling at peace in a very long time.

  She was the one for me – in a non-lesbian way, of course.

  She was my person, and because of that, I found myself telling her everything.

  I started at the beginning, feeling the need to explain myself to the one person I knew wouldn’t judge me for falling in love with another man.

  After all, Teagan was the one person who'd been with me through it all.

  She had comforted me through my grief when Jordan ripped my heart apart all those years ago. She was witness to the extraordinary amount of pain I'd lived with for almost a decade while I waited for a man who never came back.

  I explained how I had felt inside when Hunter had burst into my world all those months ago and how his friendship had set alight a fire inside of my heart. A fire that had been out out for many years.

  I told her about how unsure I was in the beginning– how untrusting. I'd never had a man who stayed before.

  But he did.

  I tried to pinpoint the moment our friendship had turned to something more than platonic, but I couldn’t find it. Try as I may, I couldn’t find the memory in my mind that told me he was just a friend. I guess deep down inside, Hunter had always been more.

  I explained in great detail the night I finally allowed my heart to succumb to the feelings I had been so desperate to deny.

  And then, I told her the things I couldn’t possibly tell my family when they demanded I did just that. Every tiny, horrible detail. Even the inconsequential ones no one could possibly care about. Like the smell of Carl, and the sensation of his touch on my skin. I told her about the way I had wanted to floated out of my own body.

  Then the crash of relief that had floored me when Hunter stormed into the kitchen, and that intoxicating rush of adrenalin and power that had come over me when I watched him take that man's life.

  I let it all out.

  How it felt in his arms, when he was filling me up, making me feel safe and loved and cherished. Her uncle helping me. Hunter's kisses. His hands on my body erasing the painful memories and sensations. How I wanted to throw myself into his arms and have him never let me go. How I had decided then and there that my life was attached to his and no amount of guilt or grief could sway my decision.

  And then I told her about Jordan. The drugs, and the pain, and the emotional blackmail.

  How he'd seen Hunter that night.

  How he had vowed to go to the police if I didn’t cut all contact with him.

  I begged her to understand my reasons for needing to keep Jordan safe. I willed her to see where I was coming from.

  We both knew how Hunter dealt with threats, and I couldn’t let that happen. I prayed for her to understand that there was something inside of my heart that refused to give up on Jordan Porter. That what I was doing right now kept both men safe.

  And then I made her promise to never tell a soul what I had told her.

  I exposed my deepest, darkest secrets and fears to my best friend, and she listened.

  She listened with her hand in mine and her head on my shoulder.

  The only part I kept to myself was that night.

  The night Jordan…I couldn’t say the words.

  I couldn’t verbalize what had happened between us.

  Not when I wasn’t sure if it was true.

  What had happened in my father's kitchen and what had happened in Jordan's bedroom had been polar opposite.

  But I had felt the same both times.

  I hadn't wanted it.

  Perception was reality, and I knew that his perception of that night was very different from mine.

  In truth, I couldn’t bear to think of it.

  It just didn’t make sense to me.

  So I forced it to the back of my mind.

  It was the only way I could cope.

  After regaling her with the horrors of my last few weeks, Teagan let out a heavy sigh. "I get it, Hope," she said. "I really do. If I were you, I wouldn’t want to involve my parents in this either, but this isn’t your fight."

  "Isn't it?" I croaked out. "Because I've got a pain in my heart and a hole in my face that says otherwise."

  "And staying with him?" Her brown eyes flashed with anger. "You do realize that Jordan's blackmailing you, right? Emotional blackmail wasn’t working for him anymore, so he's pulled out the big guns?" She shook her head and released a growl. "God, I am so fucking mad right now, I can practically taste it."

  "I don’t think he's doing this to hurt me," I muttered, hating myself for defending his behavior but needing to do it all the same. "You should have seen him that day, Teegs." I shuddered at the memory. "He was so angry. So…hurt." I blinked away the image before turning to my friend and saying, "I think he genuinely believes he's protecting me."

  "Bullshit. He's protecting himself," Teagan snapped, not giving an inch. "Remember that Kenny Rogers' song The Gambler?" Teagan chimed in. "You know the way it goes; know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em?"

  "Yeah, I kn
ow the song," I replied. My father had often sung it to us when we were little. It was Cam's favorite. "What about it?"

  "I think there is some awesome advice in the lyrics." She looked me dead in the eye and said, "And I think it's time to walk away from him, Hope, – or better still, run."

  I was silent then, my mind reeling, as I tried to make sense of everything that had happened, and everything I would have to do. "You won't say anything, will you?" I finally whispered.

  "No," she bit out. "But that's for you. I know you're right about Luck, if he knew any of this Jordan would be a dead man." She paused and clenched her jaw. "And even though I personally think someone needs to smack the shit out of him, I know what it would do to you."

  "Thank you." I sagged in relief, grateful for being able to get it off my chest, and knowing that she wouldn’t tell.

  "He's an asshole," Teagan grumbled.

  "He's destroying himself." I sighed wearily. "With as much alcohol and drugs as he can get his hands on." I sighed. "I'm guessing that's where he is right now… chasing down his next fix."

  "Hope, you need to get out here," she told me. "Seriously," she urged. "I know what I'm talking about. My father was a rip-roaring alcoholic, and a mean one at that. His addiction killed my mother. And I have no doubt that if I had let him stay in my life, he would have ruined mine too."

  "I know that, Teegs," I replied. "It's just so fucking messy."

  "And what about Lucky?" she asked. "Where does he stand in all this?"

  "I'm so in love with him," I confessed, feeling the familiar sting in my eyes. "He's the reason I'm doing this, Teegs. Why I'm still here. Why I'm too scared to call Jordan's bluff and walk out. I can't risk Hunter's life for my happiness. Do you get that?" Exhaling a shaky breath, I added, "All that matters to me is keeping him out of prison. Nothing else."

  "You know he's gone, right? I haven't seen him in weeks," Teagan announced, causing my heart to plummet into my ass. "Noah says he'll be back – that's he's got business he needs to tie up. But we both know what the word business means to those two."

  "Yeah." I knew what it meant. And it terrified me. "Fuck."

  "Luck's out for revenge," she stated grimly. "And he's either going to end up killing everyone that gets in his way of that, or he's going to end up getting himself killed in the process. Either way, he won't stop until he's done." Her words caused me to flinch. "You need to go to him, Hope," she urged. "Fuck Jordan. Save the man who's out there right now saving you."

  "And if he talks?" I demanded. "And Hunter goes down for this?" I shook my head. "I can't, Teagan. I can't take that risk. Not with him. I love him too much…"

  "Who's going to believe a drunk who's stoned off his head?" she shot back angrily. "I know I wouldn’t."

  "But what if –"

  "There is no body," she added. "Noah and Luck made sure of that. No body means no evidence." Huffing, she added, "it's your word against a drug addict's. I wonder who the cops are going to believe?"

  "He's already been convicted of murder, Teagan," I hissed. "Do you think the cops will ignore that, too? Because I think that 'murderer with a violent record' trumps 'social worker addict with no record' in the crime department."

  "Ugh. You and your stupid logic," she grumbled. "Just give me your damn cell."

  "Why?" I shoved my hand in my pocket and pulled it out before handing it over willingly. "What are you doing?"

  "I stole this number out of Noah's contacts," she replied as she tapped furiously on the screen of my phone. "Luck's been using burner phones to call Noah while he's been on the road. This is the last one he called him on." She handed the phone back to me and said, "Talk to Lucky, Hope. Try and find a way to get through to him – hell, throw Jordan under than damn bus if you have to. Just talk to the guy. Because if you keep on lying to him and letting him think he doesn’t have a chance, he is going to start believing you."

  ****

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Lucky

  "Is it done?" Gonzalez asked, tone raspy.

  Exhaling a breathless pant, I nodded my head and readjusted my cell to my ear. "It's done." My phone continued to slip through my fingers though, the sheer amount of blood on my hands making it impossible to get a good grip. "You got that address for me?"

  "You did good tonight, Bolillo," Gonzalez announced. "Cortez won't be fucking with my shipment this time."

  "No, he won't," I replied, staring emotionless at the bloodied carcass at my feet. "Now, that's 12:0 t0 you." Balancing the burner phone between my ear and shoulder, I dug into my pocket and pulled out a smoke. "Gotta give me something, G," I stated as I flicked open my lighter and sparked up. "Otherwise I'm gonna start thinking this is a one-way relationship we've got going." Inhaling a deep drag, I rubbed the blood on my hands on the leg of jeans before hooking a finger around my cigarette and exhaling. "You can imagine how unhappy that will make me."

  "Goddamn," Gonzalez chuckled down the line. "You are impressive."

  "Then why don’t you impress me," I bit out. "With something I can work with."

  "Your man, Henderson, has his dick in more pussy than most my boys put together," he said. "Got more bastards floating around Colorado than I have fingers to count them on."

  "Good to know," I shot back flatly. "But I'm not interested in who he's fucking, G."

  "Patience, Bolillo," Gonzalez coaxed. "If you had waited until I had finished, you would have heard me tell you that his favorite pussy is one of ours."

  Now he had me interested. "I'm listening."

  "One of his whores had his bastard," he added. "A daughter. Annalisa Henderson." Laughing, Gonzalez reeled off the name, "You might know her by the name Annabelle."

  Well fuck me sideways…

  "No fucking way," I shot back, genuinely surprised for the first time in a long ass time. "Clever bastard."

  "Ah, but the plot thickens," Gonzalez chimed in, thoroughly amused at it all. "Bitch was planted into the family as her daddy's eyes and ears."

  "Well, I'll be goddamned," I mused.

  She was good.

  Very fucking good.

  It wasn’t often that I found myself blindsided.

  From day one, I knew there was something fucked up about Porter's BFF and her creepy ass 'Annabelle doll' eyes – pun intended.

  I'd put it down to her being a little batshit and a whole lot obsessed.

  I should've known better.

  Always fucking knew blondes were a bad breed of woman.

  "Her purpose?"

  "To observe and report," Gonzalez confirmed. "From what I can gather."

  "And her kid?" I asked, rubbing my jaw. "He Porter's?"

  "Don’t know nothing about no kid." His tone was light when he offered, "As a show of good faith, I can take care of the bitch."

  "Nah," I mused, thoroughly entertained at the thought of that crazy fucking woman carrying all her tall tales back to daddy. "Let her watch." I grinned to myself before adding, "Soon enough, she won't have a daddy to run back to."

  "Very well," he replied. "The offer still stands."

  "And Noah and his wife?" I asked, getting straight back to business. "How's that fixed?"

  "Carlito's been trailing them for weeks," he informed me. "All good, Bolillo. Nothing to report on Daddy Carter's front either."

  Nodding, I ran a hand through my hair and asked, "The girl?"

  There was a pause before Gonzalez said, "The girl has more protection than the state fucking senator."

  Relief flooded my body.

  She was safe.

  "You know the score," I felt the need to remind him, knowing all too well about the dangers of falling into a false sense of security. "Anything happens to her and the deal's off."

  "Nothing will happen to your old lady, Bolillo," Gonzalez replied with a weary sigh. "You are much too valuable to me." He chuckled before adding, "When you join us, you'll see, my friend, that we take care of our family."

  I rolled my eyes at his wor
ds, not bothering to tell him for the hundredth damn time that I wasn’t joining the family. Fucker could continue to dream all he wanted. Whatever floated his boat. "I'm getting off here, G," I told him. "Got a shit ton of clean-up to do."

  "Expect my call," was all he said before the line went dead.

  Within seconds, the phone began to vibrate in my hand again.

  Pressing accept, I put the phone to my ear and said, "Expect your call? Wanna give me a few minutes before calling in another job, asshole?"

  "It's me."

  My heart stopped.

  Fucking stopped dead in my chest.

  The sound of her voice was the very last thing I'd expected to hear on the other line.

  "How'd you get this number, HC?" I asked, tone gruff, as I wrestled my emotions back into the box I needed to keep them inside in order to get shit done.

  "Teagan," she confessed.

  Noah was right.

  She was a fucking thorn.

  "Where are you?" she asked then.

  "Taking care of business."

  "What… kind of business?"

  "The kind you don’t want me to talk about."

  "I need to see you," she continued to say, her voice torn and hushed. "So badly."

  "We've been here before, Hope," I told her. "And I always lose."

  "I know, oh god, I know." The pain and sadness in her voice broke me. "I just–" Sniffling, she stifled a sob. "I need you."

  "You done fixing him, yet?" I countered heatedly. "Because if you are, then say the word, sweetheart, and I'll get in my truck and come get you."

  There was a long pause of silence, and then she whispered, "Hunter, please don’t give up on me." A pained sob tore out of her chest and straight into mine. "There's so much we need to discuss. If we could talk, in person, figure something out. Oh god, I need you…please just come back…I need you!"

  I shook my head and stared down at the dead man looking back up at me.

  Like fuck, I'd given up on her.

  Everything I was doing was because I loved her.

  I just couldn’t stick around and watch the inevitable.