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A Lovely Obsession: The Complete Debt of Passion Duet

Page 32

by Coralee June


  “What do you want?”

  “Check your messages.”

  I reluctantly pulled my phone from my ear and checked the screen just as a message from Gavriel came through. The image was dark and grainy, but I recognized the man tied to the chair. He had a broken nose and two black eyes. His busted lip had bright red blood streaming from it.

  Mack.

  “What the fuck did you do to him?” I asked before pulling the phone back up to my ear. I thought I had time to decide. I thought he’d let me choose. I thought Gavriel’s threats were flexible. Not to mention, Mack had been working for the Bullets for years. Gavriel respected loyalty. What happened that made him turn his back on Mack?

  “I didn’t do this. If anything, you’re to blame.”

  What was that supposed to mean? “Explain. Now,” I commanded.

  I heard the bathroom door open but didn’t turn to face Roe. “Mack heard about Roe’s deal with me. He figured if he could kill the target, I wouldn’t make you come back.”

  I cursed while pacing the motel room. That sounded exactly like something Mack would do. But he wasn’t as skilled of a killer as me. Sure, he was smart and could use a gun, but it took a unique sense of precision to be an assassin. I glanced at Roe, who was staring at me with concern. “How long ago?” I asked.

  “I got the picture this morning,” Gavriel growled. “My fucking target now knows I’m after him. This isn’t good. Not good at all.” He sounded pissed off. Gavriel was a lot of things, but he did care about Mack. He cared about all of his loyal employees. It’s why I wasn’t taking his threats about Nicole all too seriously.

  “Do you think he’s still alive?”

  Gavriel let out a sigh, and I waited with bated breath for his answer. “I don’t know. We need to take care of this. Mack is Bullet family, but I don’t know how long he can last being tortured. What if he leads them to you? He already led them to me. What about Roe? These assholes will use anyone and anything as leverage.”

  Shit. I didn’t want another situation where Gavriel’s enemies tracked down the people I cared about. And if I couldn’t get Mack out, I’d have to kill him before he could put anyone at risk. It was a tricky situation. I found my jeans on the ground, and while holding my phone between my ear and shoulder, I put them on. “No shit. Send me the details, and I’ll be out within the hour.”

  “You have to go ghost,” Gavriel rushed out before I could hang up. “This is high-profile. No planes. No public places. You can’t leave a single trace. This isn’t the kind of target my connections can help cover-up. I can send some help, but the situation has escalated. Don’t call me until it’s done. Don’t talk to anyone. You can use some of my safe houses and vehicles along the way.”

  Gavriel hung up, and I was immediately emailed details of the target. The moment I saw the name, my chest constricted. This would be fucking hard.

  Mayor Bloomington. He was a crooked man that ran the city like a crime boss. It came as no surprise that he was involved in shit with Gavriel. But making someone this public disappear would take a miracle. And saving Mack just became infinitely more difficult.

  “What’s going on?” Roe asked. I put on a T-shirt and opened my phone back up to the picture of Mack before handing it over to her. There was no use in lying or hiding. She needed to know what the stakes were. Roe gasped the moment she saw his broken and battered face on the screen.

  “How—oh my God. Did Gavriel do this to him?” Her voice was shrill and full of vengeance. “I’ll end him.”

  “No. The target he wants me to kill did. Mack tried taking him out and failed. It’s up to me to save him now.” I didn’t mention that I didn’t think there was anything to save, but I wasn’t willing to admit that to Roe just yet. I didn’t want to be the one to tell her that we were the reason the only father figure she knew was probably dead.

  Roe processed the information for about ten seconds before frantically packing her suitcase. I knew she’d want to go but was proud of her for pulling herself together so quickly. She was always such a fighter. “You’re not going,” I said.

  Roe stood up and straightened her spine, casting me a murderous glare. “Hell yes I am.”

  I saw the determination in her stance. There was no question in her expression, either. Roe had already made up her mind that she was going with me. But where I was going wasn’t safe for her.

  “You can’t, Roe. It’s not safe.”

  “He’s the only family I have,” she replied incredulously. “You can’t seriously expect me to just stay here and wait patiently while you travel across the country to save him.”

  That was exactly what I was expecting her to do. It suddenly hit me that I had a choice to make. Roe wasn’t strong enough to take on this job at my side, and I couldn’t leave her anywhere, because I couldn’t trust that she wouldn’t follow after me.

  “You’re not going,” I said again, this time more sternly.

  “Yes. I am. Mack is the only family I have.” Roe was standing with her arms crossed over her chest. She looked unyielding and powerful just then. It nearly killed me to know I’d have to break her to keep her safe. I had to do what I’d been running from. I had to tell her something that would make her hate me so much she would refuse this journey.

  “You can’t come with me.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “And why not?” she asked.

  “Because I’m ruthless,” I began while taking a step toward her. “Because this is the kind of mission that will require me to do whatever is necessary. Because I don’t need you as a distraction. Because if it comes down to saving Mack or killing this man, I’ll choose the latter. Gavriel gave me a job, and I am the only one that can get it done. Mack’s been tortured probably past his limits. We don’t know what he’s said or if you’ll become the target again—”

  “Mack would never give me up. And even if he did, I’m not that important,” Roe argued.

  “You don’t know that. They could have already gone through his phone. Learned about his history. About me. These people leave no loose ends and will grab hold of anything they think will give them an advantage. And if it comes down to it, I will kill Mack to save the rest of us.”

  Roe shook her head. “You don’t mean that. You have to save Mack. No matter what happened between us, you know how important he is to me. You wouldn’t kill him.”

  She sounded so confident. So sure.

  If only she knew.

  “Your safety will always trump your happiness for me. I killed your own mother. What makes you think I won’t kill Mac to save you, too?”

  I blurted it. It was out there now. My mind and mouth and determination to keep her safe released the one secret I still had.

  She stalled. Gasped. Stilled. Then trembled. I saw the light dim from her eyes. It was 9:24 in the morning when she stopped loving me.

  ROE

  Mom

  Wake up, little dove.

  Stiff wings of cotton and red, lifeless eyes.

  You built a cage for yourself. Wood painted a dull shade of gold.

  You sat on your perch and stared through the bars, watching the world but never participating in it.

  Wake up, little dove.

  Sandpaper veins and foamy mouth.

  I never knew of your taste for poisoned needles.

  I never knew you wanted to trade your cage for a tomb.

  Buried deep, little dove.

  Bed of roses and a ceremony for one.

  From ashes and dust to clouds and sun.

  Fly away, little dove.

  Fly away, Mom.

  I absorbed his words. “I killed your own mother.” Why did Hunter like to drop bombs in my lap with such simplicity and grace? He didn’t handle my feelings with sensitivity. He destroyed me with calm truths. It was devastating. Who was this man? How did I not know this?

  I couldn’t quite make sense of what he was saying. “Excuse me?” I asked, seeking clarification. “Did you just admit to killing my mo
ther?”

  Hunter looked at the ground, then back at me. Swallowing, he replied, “Yes.”

  “Why?” I choked.

  Hunter closed his cold eyes, like looking at me was too difficult for him. “I had my reasons.”

  He had reasons? What reasons could he possibly have? Maybe he was crazy. Maybe he wanted more accessibility to my life so he could control me. It all made sense now. Hunter killed my mother so he could insert himself in my life. “Did Mack know?”

  I saw the lie flash across Hunter’s expression. He wanted to tell me that Mack was a part of this deadly deed, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He wanted me to think Mack was guilty in this so I wouldn’t want to save him. “No. He didn’t.”

  My relief was short-lived. Hunter killed my mother. He fucking killed her.

  There weren’t any sufficient words to describe the pain I felt. It all made sense now. This was the final piece of the puzzle. This was the driving guilt that forced Hunter into seclusion from me. This was why we would never be together. I wasn’t just a debt to him. I wasn’t even an obsession. Guilt and ruin lined the roads that brought us together.

  I wanted off this path. I wanted to make him suffer. Hunter Hammond deserved the loneliness Joshua Tree offered him, and I would starve him of my empathy. I no longer cared about the little boy that watched my father die. The image of his sunken, boyish cheeks and my mother’s willowy arm wrapped around his shoulder assaulted my memory.

  How could he?

  A series of realizations dawned on me as I stood in the middle of my motel room. She didn’t kill herself. She didn’t willingly leave me. Mom didn’t abandon me. My mother’s murderer had been inside of me. Hunter buried his cock and affections within my body. I became a home for his evil. He owned my body and mind. He’d corrupted my thoughts. He sparked a love in my soul. I’d coaxed undeserved pleasure from his cock, not knowing that he was the root of my loneliness. All this time, I’d been trying to find a sense of understanding in him, while he had been hiding the truth.

  Murderer.

  My. mind felt. Like.

  Disjointed.

  Rushing.

  T

  H

  O

  U

  G

  H

  T

  S.

  Thoughts about the woman that raised me. A mother born of grief. I thought she loved my father more than me. I thought she left because being terrified of living was stronger than the love of a daughter. Contemporary poetry streamlined my inner monologue so I could make sense of the painted pain across my soul. Death was such a fickle thing. Grief convinced me that I was capable of moving on, then peeled the scab off my wound.

  She was such a lovely dove, my mother.

  Would she have healed eventually? Could we have moved on E V E N T U A L L Y?

  Or would we still be sitting in a cold apartment with the deadbolt locked and her tears mopping the floor?

  She was a lot like a cactus, my mother. Lone. Prickly.

  My obsession and love for Hunter shriveled up on the spot. What was once a beautiful bed of thorny flowers became a desert drought. I didn’t want him anymore. I couldn’t stand to even look at him, though I knew I needed to. I needed to stare him in the eye and let him see the pain there. Hunter Hammond had been running from the guilt, but it was fucking time to finish this chase. He felt pushed to admit what he did because he wanted me to run away. Everything Hunter did had a purpose. He wanted me to give up and leave, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of my fear.

  I wasn’t giving him what he wanted anymore. I was going with him. No matter what. Mack was too important to me to let him use this to keep me away.

  A plan took root in my mind. I realized that he would need a reason to take me with him. Calmly, I walked over to my backpack on the floor and sifted through it. “You going to say anything, Pretty Debt?” he asked. How dare he call me that right now. Did he expect me to cry? Was he getting off on causing me pain?

  My fingers hit the cool, heavy metal of my gun, and I pulled it out to aim at Hunter. One of the first things I did after leaving Gavriel’s home was buy bullets. You couldn’t own a gun unless you were prepared to shoot it, and now felt as good a time as ever to lose my sense of right and wrong. I was prepared to pull the trigger now. I just had to find the right source of anger to pull from, and Hunter was a bottomless pit of fury.

  “You bastard,” I said before pulling the slide back and loading a bullet in the chamber.

  “You won’t shoot me,” he replied confidently. He was so damn cocky. He was so convinced that I cared enough to keep him alive. If I didn’t need him to save Mack, I probably would kill him in this dirty motel room. I would happily go to jail and pay the price of avenging my mother’s death.

  But there was timing in everything. I needed him right now. So I aimed a little to the left and pulled the trigger. A hanging mirror beside him shattered, and splintered glass exploded around him. Naturally, Hunter didn’t flinch. He didn’t move. He stared me down as people screamed in the room next door.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” he asked as I picked up my cellphone and dialed 911. I ignored his question the same way he’d been ignoring the truth between us.

  The operator answered. “911, what’s your emergency?”

  “My ex-boyfriend is stalking me. He showed up at my motel, I had to shoot—”

  Hunter stomped up to me and ripped my phone out of my hands. Hanging up, he gave me an incredulous look. “What the fuck are you doing? Why are you calling the police when Mack needs me?”

  “Because you need the incentive to bring me. Congratulations, Hunter. I don’t trust you. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” He seemed to realize that I was trapping him, and he threw my cellphone on the ground, then crushed it under his boot. I continued speaking as he huffed. “I sure as hell am not trusting you to save Mack. I have a lot of questions, and you’re going to answer them. And if you leave me here, I will send the cops after you. We have probably six minutes before they’ll arrive.” I raised my gun up and aimed at his chest. Instead of answering me, he walked closer and pressed his muscles against the barrel of it.

  “You crazy bitch,” he growled.

  “You murderous stalker.”

  I killed your mother.

  Fly away, little dove.

  Fly away.

  Little dove in eternal sleep.

  Devil walking in clothing of sheep.

  It wasn’t a cage under lock and key.

  It was poison and rage that did the deed.

  He glanced at the gun. Both of us knew he could disarm me if he wanted to. But Hunter would have to lodge a bullet in my brain before I let him leave here without me. This wasn’t another abandonment scenario. He was going to tell me everything. He was going to save Mack. And at the end of this journey, it would be me leaving him. I was done.

  “You’re not coming. You’d only get in the way,” Hunter argued.

  “I’m more capable than you think.”

  He wrapped his hand around mine, squeezing as hard as he could. I clutched the gun in my grip and refused to break eye contact with him. “You’re going to have to shoot me. Are you capable of that, Roe? Can you do what needs to be done? Watch someone die and know it was your hand that pulled the trigger?” he asked. “Because I can.”

  Sirens in the distance sounded faint, but I knew it was only a matter of time before the loud wails were clawing up my skin. “Is that what you did to my mother?” I asked through clenched teeth.

  Hunter squeezed my hand harder while looming over me. His morning breath slapped me in the face. “I poisoned her while you were watching television in the next room. I crawled through her bedroom window. She didn’t even see me coming, and no one thought twice about a crazy woman ending her life.”

  His words cut and stung and bruised. It was validating in a way but also made me sick. “You won’t change my mind. Let’s go,” I growled.

 
Our standoff lasted a few seconds longer, but Hunter finally relented. “Fine.” I relaxed as he pried my weapon from my fingertips. “Grab your shit, and let’s go before the cops arrive asking questions. We don’t have time. The drive will take us three days minimum, and Gavriel doesn’t want the paper trail or security cameras associated with flying. You’ll listen and do what I say.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek while gathering up my things. “We can split up the drive,” I offered in an emotionless tone. Now that he’d agreed to let me come, a sense of numbness had taken over.

  “Hurry,” he demanded.

  The sirens were louder by the time we got in his truck. He peeled out of the parking lot, leaving nothing but dust behind. I pressed my body against the door, determined to be as far away from him as possible while peering out the window.

  ROE

  Silent Treatment

  Lips shut with concrete pain.

  You prod with silent stares.

  We play the games we were taught to play.

  There’s power in silence, and I am

  the queen of my own catastrophe.

  Screams like wind on a dull day. Unmoving branches answer me. Strong like a statue, you wait for the concrete to crack, and for my lips to fold into a frown. I am unmoving and Herculean.

  Never let them see your smile slip. Never part your lips for ears that don’t deserve your honey tongue. Never cry for evil too stuck in their own observation of you to notice the crushed skulls beneath their boots.

  Keep quiet, pretty queen. Save your energy for revenge.

  I didn’t dare open my mouth. For seven straight hours, not a single word escaped my lips. I didn’t turn to face Hunter as he drove, and when we stopped at gas stations to fill up, I stole his keys and took them with me to the bathroom.

  I realized on the drive that Hunter and I had developed a pattern of sorts. I spent the majority of our fucked up relationship asking him questions and trying to make sense of everything. He was used to my inquisitive demands. I knew he was expecting me to plead for answers. He seemed to sit on the edge of his seat, words hovering over his velvet tongue as he waited with bated breath for the inevitable fight that would boom from my chest and ruin us.

 

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