Shattered King

by Sherilee Gray

  Hunter cursed, but I could see he knew Van was right. He looked down at me. “You sure you want to do this?”

  What choice did I have? I wanted that monster caught. I wanted to get on with my life without fear. “Yes.”

  Hunter curled his arm around my neck and kissed the top of my head. “So fucking strong,” he muttered.

  I tucked my hair behind my ear. “I have an idea where to start. I have a . . . had a friend, from back then, his father was a close associate of . . .” Shit. I couldn’t say Pierce’s name out loud. It lodged in my throat. “Anyway, Bret hated what his father did, and because of that, we formed a kind of kinship I suppose. I haven’t seen or talked to him since I left, but we were really close. I know he’ll at least hear me out.” I shrugged. “He might know something or have a contact that does.” A lot of time had passed, but Bret had been a great guy, my only friend, stuck in a life he detested, with a father he hated. I was positive he would tell me if he knew anything.

  Hunter nodded. “Okay, baby. Call your friend and we can set up a meeting. We’ll go in with plenty of back up, play things nice and safe.”

  I nodded, ignoring the unease in my gut. Calling Bret, talking to him, was stepping back into that world, a place I only visited in my nightmares. It terrified the hell out of me.

  Van’s eyes were on me, too, and they softened. “Hunt told me what went down, what happened to you. I wanted to tell you . . .”

  I held up a hand. It kind of just shot up on its own, self-preservation kicking in. “Don’t.” I shook my head. “I can’t . . . I can’t talk about it. Any of it.”

  I couldn’t. What happened to me, what I did to Hunter, who Josh’s father might be—the reality that my mother was lying in a hospital bed, and any day now they were going to call and tell me she was gone . . .—I couldn’t deal. I just couldn’t. So I chose not to. I’d made the decision to lock it all away and work though it when it suited me, or not at all, which I was leaning toward more and more.

  Van stared at me. I turned away from his sympathetic expression, and stared at Josh, now sitting on the floor in front of the TV, watching cartoons.

  “Okay.” Van’s voice was steady, but almost a whisper. “But we got you. You understand? We won’t let anything happen to you. You and Josh are family, and until Pierce . . .”

  I winced. Just hearing it out loud was too damn much right then. Especially with the intense emotions Hunter and Van were radiating.

  Van cursed.

  Hunter pulled me closer, lips brushing the top of my head. “I won’t let that fucker near you. I promise you that.”

  The King brothers were in full-on, pissed-off, protection mode, and I couldn’t take it. They cared about me, us, and right then it was more than I could handle. I couldn’t allow myself to get used to this, to rely on Hunter, not when I had no intention of staying. I was barely hanging on. If I allowed myself to fall apart, I was afraid I’d never be able to put all the pieces back together again. Or they’d never go back the way they were supposed to, and I’d be broken forever.

  Josh needed me. He needed his mother in one piece.

  Falling apart wasn’t an option.

  I pulled out of Hunter’s arms and headed across the living room. “Can you watch Josh while I grab a shower?”

  I didn’t wait for an answer. I raced to the bathroom and shut myself in.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Lulu

  I squeezed Hunter’s hand tighter as we neared the entrance to the club. This place was exclusive. Only the rich and privileged got to party here. Bret owned it, and after some digging by Neco, we discovered he was still very much under his father’s thumb. This made the guys extremely nervous. But I knew how controlling his father could be and knew how Bret felt about the man. It was common knowledge among his associates that they didn’t get on, which was the only reason Hunter was going ahead with the meeting.

  I trusted Bret. He’d been my only friend for a lot of years. My best friend. We were thrown together a lot, and we’d looked out for each other. He’d hated his father almost as much as I’d hated Pierce.

  When I’d called to ask for the meeting, he’d sounded as happy to hear my voice as I was his. He’d also made it clear we needed to talk in person, not over the phone. Knowing his family, this didn’t surprise me.

  We bypassed the line of people waiting to get in to the club and I felt their stares burning into me as we passed. Not surprising. We were seriously underdressed for this place. Both of us were in jeans. Hunter had on a T-shirt and leather jacket and I had on a plain black jacket and the best top I owned. It was royal blue and shimmery and hit mid-thigh. I’d loved it when I saw it on the rack. None of the women here would be seen dead in it. I knew this because once upon a time, I’d been one of them. I’d worn the designer clothes. I’d had the perfect hair and makeup. Pierce had made sure of that.

  I’d hated it. All of it.

  These were the young and wealthy. And, more than likely, the bored and resentful. They weren’t my people anymore, never had been. I’d never fitted in. Hadn’t wanted to.

  Hunter didn’t seem to notice the stares, or care.

  I caught sight of Jude and Neco in the lineup, close to the front, and nearly stumbled over my own feet. They were both in suits, grinning and chatting to a couple of women. Hunter gave my hand a squeeze, silently telling me not to stare.

  I gaped up at him. “How do they know those women?”

  Hunter smirked and shrugged but didn’t answer my question. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. At least that cleared up my question over how he was going to get backup into the club.

  We walked up to the velvet rope and the bouncer guarding it, blocking the way in. The guy looked as if he ate steroids like Tic Tacs.

  “Bret Tanners is expecting us,” Hunter said.

  He took our names then spoke into the headpiece attached to his ear. Another guy arrived a few minutes later and motioned us to follow.

  We were led into the main club. The music was loud, and the place was already pretty packed. There was a main dance floor down stairs and a second level that was sectioned off—a VIP area. That’s where we were taken. Hunter glanced down at me, and I could see he was on full alert. I could also see he was as confused as I was. I’d expected to be shown to Bret’s office, not some table surrounded by people. Drinks and bottles littered the surface and several people were openly doing drugs.

  Bret was sitting back, a woman pressed up against him on either side. When he spotted me, I noticed his eyes were glassy and bloodshot. A lazy smile spread across his lips.

  He was high.

  I took him in, having a hard time recognizing this Bret.

  My old friend disentangled from the women beside him and headed our way, lifting his arms as he approached, his grin getting wider.

  “Lucinda. God, I’ve missed you. It’s been too long.”

  His hands went to my shoulders and he pulled me in for a hug. He was sweaty and gripped too tight, but I knew how worried he’d been about me, so I hugged him back just as tight, happy to have my friend back.

  “I’ve missed you, too,” I said against his shoulder.

  Hunter didn’t let go of my hand, pulling me back in close as soon as Bret let me go. I looked up at him brow raised. He wasn’t looking at me—his eyes were locked on Bret.

  “You didn’t say you were bringing a friend,” Bret said, eyeing Hunter right back.

  I quickly tried to steer this meeting in the right direction. “I was hoping we could go somewhere quiet and talk?”

  He sniffed, wiping the back of his hand under his nose, eyes darting around the club. “Yeah, sure. Of course.”

  I hated seeing him like this; he’d always hated drugs. I was starting to doubt he’d have anything useful for us, but I had to at least try. Maybe after today we could spend some time together, maybe I could get through to him, help make some changes in his life.

  He turned and led us to a door at the back of the
VIP section. I saw Hunter slip his hand inside his jacket pocket. I knew he had his phone in there, that it was a simple as hitting a button to alert the other guys if he felt something was off.

  Knowing Hunter was worried sent nerves spiraling though me. They only shot higher when that same hand went under his jacket, to the gun on his opposite hip. Surely he didn’t think Bret would try and do something to me?

  Bret punched in a code when we reached the door and tilted his head, silently telling us to follow. We entered a short hall and he motioned us into his office. “In here.”

  That’s when a toilet flushed opposite us.

  The bathroom door opened. Derek, Pierce’s man, walked right on out.

  Derek froze, and Hunter cursed.

  Everything happened in a blur after that. Hunter shoved me behind him then slammed his fist into Bret’s throat. Bret dropped like a stone as Hunter pulled his gun and aimed it at Derek before I was fully aware of what was going on.

  “Hands where I can see them.”

  Derek did as he was told, and Hunter started to back us up to the door we’d just come through. The sound of feet pounding came from the other end of the hall, and Derek smirked. They were coming for me. Oh God. Was Pierce here?

  A loud thud behind us made me jump. Hunter jerked me out of the way a second before the door flew open. Jude stood there breathing heavily. Hunter grabbed my hand, and we were running. We took the stairs to the lower level. Jude was in front of us, clearing a path with his massive shoulders like a human bowling ball.

  We hit the street and Hunter picked me up and started sprinting. The lights on his SUV flashed as we drew near. He opened the passenger door and shoved me in. He was in the driver’s side a second later. Something hit the back of his car. Were they shooting at us?

  Jude was still outside returning fire, then he dove into the back and we took off.

  I twisted in my seat. “What about Neco?”

  “He’s fine,” Jude said. “He’s gonna try and follow Derek. Maybe he’ll lead us to Pierce.”

  I started shaking. “I can’t believe it . . .” I shook my head. “He was a sweet kid. Sad and mixed up, but we were friends, best friends.” I turned to Hunter. “I didn’t think he’d . . . he’d betray me like I’d never meant anything to him.”

  “You had no way of knowing Bret would do that.” He reached out and gave my thigh a squeeze. His jaw was tight, the fingers of his other hand flexing around the steering wheel. “Whoever’s supplying him drugs more than likely owns him.”

  Hunter obviously hadn’t missed Bret’s condition. “He won’t give up, will he?” I turned to Hunter, feeling numb. I was glad of it, of the numbness. If I thought too hard about what just happened, what could have happened, I’d enter full-on meltdown mode. “Pierce . . . he won’t stop until he has me.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Hunter said, voice so low and fierce it made it hard not to believe him.

  I just hoped he was right.

  Hunter

  We walked into the apartment. Van looked up from his phone, frowning. Van had volunteered to babysit. Since Josh seemed to like his uncle a whole hell of a lot, Lulu had been okay with the arrangement.

  “That Neco?” I asked.

  “Yeah.” Van shook his head. “Nothing.”

  Lulu yanked her hand from mine. “I’m going to . . . I need a shower.” Then she all but ran across the living room to get away, tousled hair flying out behind her. Shit.

  I turned to my brother. “Josh asleep?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can you stay a little longer, just in case he wakes?” I needed to talk to Lulu without interruption. I needed to hold her, reassure myself that she was okay. Tonight had been a fuck-up of epic proportions.

  Van gave me a chin lift. “Take as long as you need.”

  I wanted more than anything for Lulu to lean on me. Needed it probably more than she did. She’d been dealing with so much shit on her own for so long, I didn’t think she knew how to do anything else. My girl was scared out of her mind. I got that she was afraid to let me back in. I understood it. Fuck, more than most.

  But knowing what she’d been through while I was locked up, what Pierce had done to her . . . yeah, I needed her to lean on me. I needed her to see me as her man again, be the one she turned to. She needed to work through all that had happened. On top of all that, she was carrying guilt over the time I’d done, blamed herself when she’d had no choice. None.

  I knew Pierce well enough to know he would have followed through with his threat. I also knew that fucker hadn’t been lying when he told her he had someone on the inside watching me. Motherfucking Baker. The screw hated my guts, had fucked with me whenever the chance presented itself. Which had been often.

  The parole board didn’t look kindly on a man who beat the shit out of two other inmates. That kind of thing was frowned upon. Thanks to Baker, I’d been placed in a position where I either fucked those guys up or got myself fucked, literally. I had, of course, chosen to the former. It had destroyed my chance of getting out early. And as far as I could see the screw had done it for shits and giggles.

  Lulu wasn’t responsible for that. If I could take that from her, release her of that burden, it’d be a start.

  I tested the bathroom door. It wasn’t locked, and swung open when I gave it a shove. Lulu stood by the tub, staring blindly at the water as it rushed from the faucet.

  “Babe?”

  Her head shot up, twisted toward me—then she took a step back. And Jesus, did that cut. The old Lulu had never looked at me with fear in her eyes. Ever.

  “Does Josh need me?”

  I shook my head and shut the door behind me. “We need to talk.”

  “No I . . .”

  “Lulu, we need to talk.”

  “I can’t do this now.” Her voice was strong, but it shook like hell.

  I gritted my teeth. Pierce had a lot to answer for. As soon as they tracked him down, I’d enjoy every fucking minute of making sure he paid for what he’d done to her. What he did to me. What he took from us both.

  “Why don’t you get in the tub? I’ll do the talking.”

  She didn’t move, just continued to stare into the water, biting her tempting, full lower lip. Shit. My cock swelled in my jeans. I hadn’t touched her since the night on the couch.

  I’d resisted taking it further that night, and instead carried her to her bed after she’d fallen asleep, reluctantly going to my own. I’d stayed away since, to give her time to heal. Her body was pretty much back to normal, besides a few bruises, but her mind . . .

  I moved up behind her, placing my hands on her hips. “Please, Lulu.”

  Her body relaxed against mine. I didn’t even know if she was aware she was doing it. She’d already taken off her jacket and shoes, and the top she still had on clung to her, showed just how full and perfect her tits were, how they’d gotten fuller over the last few years.

  I lifted it over her head. She didn’t try to stop me, so I carried on, removing her bra. Jesus. Her nipples were darker, too. They used to be pale pink—now they were strawberry tipped and so fucking tempting I could barely think straight.

  She sucked in a soft breath when I dropped the bra to the floor. The sound was a nervous one, but it was also needy as hell. I felt it across my balls, like she reached down and cupped them. I undid her jeans and slid them down her legs.

  “What do you actually do for the agency?” she asked out of the blue. She was trying to deflect the attention away from her, from whatever I wanted to talk about.

  I ran my hands over her silky skin. “Fugitive recovery, provide muscle, security. Run-of-the-mill P.I. work.”

  “That’s not all, though, is it?”

  I gave her hips a squeeze. “ No.” I decided to tell her the truth, the best I could anyway. “People come to us when a situation is too dangerous for anyone else, and we . . . fix it for them.”

  “What does that mean?” She stepped out of
her jeans, and I kicked them away.

  “We help people out of impossible situations. Sometimes the police have their hands tied, can’t legally do what’s needed, that’s when we step in. But we know how to cover our asses. We have a kind of . . . working relationship with the NYPD. We scratch each other’s backs from time to time to get shit done.”

  She didn’t ask for more. I glanced at the mirror beside us, growling when I got an eyeful of her fading bruises. The sight threatened to take me to an ugly place, a place Lulu did not need to see me go. Somehow I managed to squash it down, the rage. Letting her see my anger over what happened would help nothing. Right now, she needed to be taken care of.

  I tucked my fingers in the sides of her underwear and slid them down as well, unable to stop myself from sliding my hand over the side of her ass as I went. Rising back up, I moved my hand higher, over her belly. She was rounder there too. Softer. And it was sexy as fuck. I carried on, until I was cupping her tits in both hands, testing their weight.

  “These are bigger,” I whispered in her ear. “You always had a great body, but fuck, Lulu.”

  She laughed. It was breathy, a little unsure. “Having a baby, breast feeding. It changes you.”

  “You’re beautiful.” I tentatively massaged one of her tits, while my other hand went back to her belly. “You’ve never been sexier than you are now.”

  She was breathing heavy, ass nestling my aching cock, the smooth skin of her back hot against my chest and stomach. She was temptation, a dream; all my fucking wishes come to life when I thought I’d lost her for good. But I needed to take this slow. No matter how much I wanted to spin her around, spread her wide and slide inside her, I couldn’t. I didn’t think she was ready for that, not yet. I’d already fucked up with her, when I’d had her at the cabin, at the agency. Jesus, the way I’d behaved. I was disgusted with myself.

  Lulu deserved so much more.

  Reluctantly, I released her and, testing the water, turned it off. “Climb in, baby.”

  It was hot and steamy in the small room. The humid air coated her skin, made her entire body glisten, even as goose bumps broke out over her creamy flesh. I wanted to lean in and lick her, taste her, but I refrained. Barely.