Blindsight: The Series (Complete Erotic Suspense STANDALONE)

by Leigh, Adriane

  twelve

  SATURDAY NIGHT I SAT wrapped in a warm cashmere blanket on the cool leather couch reading a book while Brant worked away diligently on his computer. He’d been at it all day to the soundtrack of frustrated grunts with constant glances at his phone. All of it seemed like evidence in hindsight. I no longer wavered in my belief; I knew down to my toes that the man I’d shared my life with the last four years had a darker side, something criminal that lived deep, he just dressed it up in a white collar and tie.

  I trained my eyes on his bent head his brow furrowed deeper than it’d been all day. Thoughts swirled in my mind as I tried to remember acquaintances from dinner parties or even people he may have met back in college that had brought JW and Brant together.

  "Something on your mind, Erin?" Brant’s hollow voice pulled me from my thoughts. My eyes focused, and I saw his eyes pin me with some dark mix of fear and hate. I swallowed the lump in my throat and felt the pit in my stomach turn into cold cement. Brant shot from his chair and stalked across the room and yanked me from my place on the couch to stand with him. I squirmed in his tight grip.

  "That hurts, Brant," I mumbled as I tried to pull my elbow from his hand.

  "You’d better keep your fucking mouth shut, Erin. Whatever you think you know," he snarled in my face with his hot breath washing across my skin in a sickening wave. "It’s in your best interest to keep your mouth shut."

  I nodded with quietly contained fear, unwilling to see the end of his rope tonight. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, Brant," I whispered before his palm loosened and his eyes flicked to mine, a wild lost look burning bright in his brown depths.

  He sucked in a slow breath then ran a hand across the back of his neck kneading at a taut muscle.

  "Do you want me to get you a drink?" I simpered, trying to play my role as his blind wife for my own safety and thinking red wine sounded more than perfect to calm my own racing nerves.

  “Got Laphroaig’s?” Brant uttered as he stalked to his chair.

  “Of course.” I padded out of the living room and into the kitchen to pull down a bottle of my husband’s expensive vice from the shelf.

  It was then that I heard it.

  The small unassuming noise that carries with it so much possibility. So much dread.

  The slamming of a car door, the crunch of steps on the brick sidewalk, and then silence. Loud, stifling silence.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  My heart dropped to my feet and I nearly choked on my tongue.

  “Can you get it?” Brant called from the far off room, and I sucked in a slow breath.

  I had a fraction of an instant where my mind went back to before I’d run into Hunter on that street, and I knew nothing of the financial affairs of my husband or his company. I could’ve opened that door, head held high and without fear and greeted the visitor with a smile just like I would anyone other.

  But this, this was different. I could feel it. It tightened my throat and suffocated my lungs. “Okay,” I croaked, hoping he could hear me, shuffling my feet into motion.

  This moment. This was the moment Hunter had been talking about. This is where I chose to survive or go down with Brant.

  “Hello?” I swung the door open with as much bravado as I could muster and had only a split second to scream before a blanket was pulled over my head and I was rushed from my home.

  My eyes burned as I was hustled down the sidewalk and shoved into a car. With a soft hum, the vehicle whipped from the curb and we were speeding down the street. Just as we turned a tight corner, I heard car tires squealing to a halt and saw fading red light flittering at the edges of my sight. With my heart thundering out of my chest, I pulled the blanket from my head and swung my eyes around the dark interior of the car.

  “Hunter?” His eyes moved to me, sympathetic for a moment before turning back to the street, his knuckles white with clutching the wheel. “What’s happening?” I struggled to contain my terror.

  “Shit went down tonight,” he said, as if that were the only answer necessary. I turned away, flabbergasted.

  Hunter’s eyes focused doggedly on the road as I sat waiting for his answer. He stared on, as if he hadn’t even heard me, his knuckles white as he clutched at the wheel. I’d never seen him like this, so hardened, so lacking the soft comforting side I’d come to know of him. This Hunter was intense, relentless, his eyes sparking with that cold glare that chilled my heart. Had I been wrong all along? Maybe Hunter had betrayed me, was handing me over to JW tonight, and had played me for the fool all along.

  Tears stung my eyelids as I twisted my hands in my lap and thought it was over. If I’d been wrong about Hunter, my life was over tonight. I had trusted him, and it may have signed my own death warrant. And Brant’s.

  “He put his hands on you,” Hunter finally growled, yanking me from my anxious descent into fear.

  “Hunter?” My hand shot to my mouth. Of course he’d been watching all night. The timing made perfect sense.

  “He’s lucky I didn’t kill him.” Hunter’s gaze hardened as he focused on the road, the speedometer pushing over ninety miles an hour as we sped through the night, giving no indication that he would answer any more questions. I turned my attention away from his fierce and rugged profile and focused on calming my breaths and my thoughts. Just how much trouble was I in with him?

  By the time we were turning down a darkened road a while later, Hunter’s forehead was cut with worry lines, his jaw clenched in the suffocating silence.

  “Where are we?” I finally questioned when the road curved into the woods before ending at a small cabin, weathered and in need of upkeep.

  “A cabin up north. We’re going to lay low for a while.” He tipped his head at me and winked.

  “Does JW know you’re here?” I asked, worry infiltrating my voice.

  “No one does.” He shook his head, eyes watery with sincerity. I calmed my throbbing heart and sucked in a breath, looking back to the cabin silhouetted in the moonlight. “I don’t trust a single soul.” His eyes shuttered closed for a moment in pain, then he opened the car door and was out of the car. “Sorry I had to take you like that. I didn’t want you there when they took Brant. I wasn’t sure how everything would play out, and I had to keep the ruse that you were clueless. Brant and JW had to think you were taken; I didn’t want anyone asking too many questions.” His eyes shot to my own then back to the road. “And I didn’t want you to see anything you couldn’t handle.” His low rumble cut through the silence of the car. I sat listening quietly, hardly comprehending the words.

  “How long are we here for?” I asked meekly as I pulled a few duffels that he’d brought from the backseat. By the number of bags, I had a feeling he’d packed for me too. It seemed I was never far from his thoughts.

  “We’re here until things die down in the city. Headlines aren’t good, babe." Hunter’s eyes sliced to me. "Few weeks at least. I don’t want you around that." He finished and then turned back to the cabin, taking steps ahead of me.

  I shook the fog from my brain, cleared my thoughts, and put one foot in front of the other to follow him.

  One step at a time. One moment at a time. One day at a time. That’s how I would get through this.

  thirteen

  I TOSSED THE BACKPACK I’d hauled in over my shoulder on the floor at my feet, kicked off my shoes, then landed ass first on the only chair in the room. “Tell me what happened.”

  “Right now? You don’t want to eat first?” He plopped his own bags down then rummaged through the kitchen.

  “Tell me, Hunter,” I growled, crossing my arms. His eyes turned at the tone of my voice and softened before he swiped an apple from the counter and came to me in the living room.

  He hunkered at my feet on his knees, one large palm on my thigh, the other taking a large bite of his glossy apple. “Eat.” He shoved the fruit in my face after he’d taken a bite. I shook my head, eyes burning with questions, imploring him to answer.
<
br />   “JW and I had words a few days ago when I found out Brant was coming home.”

  “You knew ahead of time and you didn’t tell me?” I sat, my stomach souring at the thought that he’d known what was coming all along. “You could have put me out of my misery! I had no idea what might happen!”

  “I couldn’t foil the plan.”

  “Foil the plan?” I screeched and jumped up before Hunter’s heavy palms caught me.

  “Shh…you can’t keep a secret, Erin. The tone of your voice, the look in your eyes, you wear your emotions on your sleeve. Telling you would have blown everything.”

  “What? I wouldn’t have-”

  “Enough.” He held up one hand to silence me. “I found out Tuesday he’d booked his ticket. That’s why I cancelled the New York shoot.”

  I sighed and hunched in my chair, playing every part the sulking teen I felt.

  “I knew he was coming home Friday, that’s why I dropped you off early.” Hunter’s sadness resonated in me as his eyes flicked up my body, lingering at my neck as if looking for something, then to my eyes again. “Drove me insane that he was with you,” he grunted, and I felt my insides pool into jelly. As much as the feminist in me wanted to fight it, I loved that he thought of me when I wasn’t around.

  “That was what JW and I argued about. I wanted to keep you with me, play it off that you just weren’t there when Brant got home, but JW insisted.” He ran a hand through his hair, as if reliving the argument. “That was the deal,” he said. “I bring you into this, you stay out of harm’s away as long as everything stays status quo.” Dark green eyes found mine. “But we’re anything but status quo.” His mouth lifted in amusement. “I don’t know how it all went down, I just had to hope you would open the door.” He looked up into my eyes then with unspoken words. “I knew you would.” He wrapped my fingers up in his own.

  “How do you know he’s not…de-dead? How can you trust JW?” I shook my head as tremors quaked my hands.

  Hunter pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled through a few screens before turning it toward me. A bold heading on the Chicago Tribune site read FBI Raids Home on East Side.

  My eyes widened as I looked in horror at a picture of my husband―head down and wrists tied behind his back―being led down our front steps by men in navy coats with vibrant letters emblazoned in gold.

  “I thought JW was after Brant? The FBI?” I lowered my voice, my eyes searching his for more answers.

  His jaw hardened then and his hands went to my arms, rubbing vigorously as if to generate heat, except I wasn’t cold. I was hot, on fire, blazing with adrenaline and questions. “FBI got to him first.” Hunter shrugged and stood with swift grace. “What do you want to eat?” He was off and rifling through the fridge again. I stood from my chair and threw off the blanket he’d artfully kidnapped me in and stalked into the kitchen.

  “We have so much more to talk about.” I stood behind him as he pulled vegetables from the fridge.

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Princess. We have nothing at all to talk about.” He pulled a strainer from the cupboard, and it didn’t escape my notice that he was quite comfortable here, obviously a frequent visitor. And the fridge was stocked―he’d prepared for this night.

  “How were you there? At the right time?” The shaking in my voice radiated down to my fingertips.

  Hunter’s eyes cut to me and the knife in his hands slowed. I stood rooted, waiting for his words, uncomfortable with his silence, terrified by his gaze. “Don’t ask stupid questions.” His jaw ticked and then he was back to chopping vegetables again. “It’s how I make a living. Photography doesn’t pay for everything,” he huffed under his breath, then continued. “I knew when Brant bought a flight home, of course I knew the FBI was already onto him. Timing, Princess.” Hunter flashed me a sarcastic wink.

  “But won’t the FBI want me for questioning? Are they looking for me?” I shrieked, feeling fear choke out reason.

  “It’s been handled. There isn’t a thing more to be said. We let the cards fall as they may.” He pulled a bottle of wine from the cupboard and blew a cloud of dust off the label. “Looks old, bet it’s good.” He was rummaging through a drawer and just like that put an end to all conversation.

  I grudgingly took the generous glass of wine he passed me and sighed. “How can you be so calm? My stomach is in knots.”

  “I’ve learned the art of patience,” he said before he put his wine glass down and pulled me into his arms. “All the hard work is done, the plan’s in place. I’ve got it all handled. While you were sleeping,” he kissed me sweetly on the forehead, “I was planning.”

  “Hunter, how can you―”

  “Listen, Princess, I’ve been doing this a long time, and the hardest thing to cultivate is patience. You can learn a skill, grow intelligence, observe your ass off, but you need patience to see a plan through. You’re gonna need to work on that.” He ticked my nose with the pad of his finger before he turned to pull a skillet from a rack and placed it on the stovetop.

  I took a deep breath as my brain whirred with confusion. How could I possibly sit up in this cabin in the Wisconsin woods and cultivate patience? Did he think I was fucking Buddha? My husband was under investigation by the FBI for embezzlement with one of the greatest thugs in recent Chicago history. And if Brant was locked up, where did that leave…

  “Hunter?”

  He turned, arching an eyebrow as he began tossing vegetables and oil in the pan.

  “What happened to JW tonight?”

  fourteen

  I BURROWED INTO THE blanket draped over my shoulders as I stared out at the opposite shoreline of the dark, rippling lake lapping at my toes. Behind me stood the cabin and Hunter, set up at the kitchen table with his laptop.

  I didn’t always know what he was doing on it. At first I’d assumed editing photos, but knowing how extensive his knowledge ran of surveillance and his ability to access virtually any top secret file, I suspected he was up to much more.

  My eyes turned out to the deep blue lake splitting the evergreens. I felt suddenly hollow, scared for Brant and myself. Scared of when the FBI did finally question me that they’d link me to anything. My hands twisted in my lap as my thoughts suddenly shifted to my phone and the lure of the headlines Hunter had mentioned. My fingers itched to Google my name to find out what they were saying. There was no evidence I’d been involved at all. And they couldn’t possibly think I’d run off with the money, could they? I tried to form the words to ask Hunter about all my worst fears but saw his concentration lost in his screen. I wanted the creative Hunter back. The one that smiled recklessly and dragged me into the street at three am to dance and eat spicy food. The Hunter that made my life pulse with passion and love.

  With my hands twisted together, I sighed, a genuine smile lifting my lips as I suddenly felt the light at the end of the tunnel. Hunter had taken my life by an unexpected storm but if we could see it through to the end, I would fight for that light that I saw glimmering no matter how far or how dark the tunnel. Hunter was worth it. Looking in his eyes, I knew the answer was always that Hunter was worth it.

  "Need a body to keep you warm?" His smooth voice hummed and my eyes closed as I inhaled the familiar smoky scent of him.

  "I’m fine," I said without thinking much beyond that. I was too lost in my own churning anxiety.

  I felt his heavy arms curl around my waist and unlock my crossed arms. "I don’t like when you turn away from me." His growl warmed my insides. "Something on your mind, Princess?" he asked as his palms dipped below my waist and teased my silk panties.

  “I just keep thinking I wasn’t in danger before I met you,” I said.

  “That’s a lie.” His fiery eyes cut to me. “That’s a lie and you fucking know it. Imagine what it would have looked like if you hadn’t met me. Imagine if you would have opened the door to someone else tonight. Maybe JW would have come looking for you first, shown up some night when Brant wasn’t home, be
cause he’s never home anymore, is he?” His angry greens sliced my gaze. “No, he left you to swing in the wind. Who knows what would have happened if you’d opened that door on JW’s smiling face. Pepper spray won’t cut it with him, babe." Hunter’s words and the memory of JW’s eagle eyes chilled me through to my toes. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I sucked in cool breaths to remain calm despite the chaos that my life had descended into.

  "Let’s say you would have lucked out—which really isn’t luck at all but it’s the only shot you’ve got at this point—so Brant is home. JW threatens him to the tune of ten million, and Brant says what? Or maybe he doesn’t even get a chance to say anything because JW already has an automatic at your husband’s throat. Even if they let him walk away, it won’t be pretty. He would have been wishing for death."

  "Hunter," I interrupted him as fear choked my insides.

  "And I’m sure you would have called the police, Princess, because that’s your thing." He tossed me a sarcastic smile. "But that wouldn’t have ended well either. JW would have taken a finger before letting you hit the first number. It’s the world JW lives in, Erin. So if you want to take your chances, by all means. But when I hired you to be my PA, I as good as saved your ass. Said it before and I’ll keep sayin’ it ’til you believe it." He leaned in, his lips pressed to my ear and breath tickling down my neck. "I’m the best thing for you." His quiet rasp filled the hollows of my mind and caused a shudder to roll through my body.

  Fear and lust became inextricably intertwined for me that day, ruining me for anyone else. He was about to bring my world shattering down around my feet in an entirely new way.

  "Come here." He pulled me into the broad, hard wall of his chiseled chest and shoved a rough hand down my pants. My head tossed back and a low moan fell from my lips when the pad of his thumb made searing hot contact with my clit. His fingers dipped into the silky flesh and caressed the skin before plunging two fingers into my body.