A Lovely Obsession: The Complete Debt of Passion Duet

by Coralee June

  “Sleep,” she promised. “I’ll wake you up and yell at you later, boo.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered. I’d need the rest if I was going to save Hunter.

  HUNTER

  My head felt like I’d experienced my own personal earthquake within the confines of my skull. The first thing I felt when I regained consciousness was complete and total pain. It was like my brain was too big for my body, swelling, swelling, swelling and spilling out through my nose and ears.

  Blood tainted my tongue, the rusty taste coating my teeth with crimson evidence that something was very wrong with me. “Get him out of the truck,” a voice said. The tone was muffled, as if he were speaking from the inside of a coffin. Or maybe it was me that was in the coffin. I couldn’t be sure. My vision was black, and I felt fabric wrapped around my eyes. A blindfold, meant to hide where I was. It stifled my breath too. It was like my entire head was stuffed in a cloth bag.

  Metal clicking clanged against my vibrating senses, and strong arms yanked me from the lying position I was in. I quickly grew to recognize the binding ropes wrapped around my wrist and ankles. I struggled to see how tightly they were tied, but they didn’t budge. My skin burned from the friction. I was swiftly tossed on the concrete by whoever had pulled me from the car, and I choked on groans of pain at the impact.

  “He’s safe,” a voice growled. I tried to place the Northern accent and familiarize myself with the tone. My survival was dependent on my ability to pick up the little details. But my brain was so damn confused from the agony swirling around my brain.

  “I want to see his face,” a voice replied. I knew that voice well. It belonged to the man who taught me how to fire a gun. It was the same voice that had both bullied me and built me into the man I was. Gavriel Moretti.

  Harsh hands ripped the fabric from over my head, and I blinked at the bright lights that greeted me. I don’t know why I was expecting the night sky and complete darkness; it felt like I had been sleeping for days only to wake up in the dead of night. But no, it was bright afternoon. The sun was unhindered by clouds and buildings. It beat down on all of us mercilessly.

  “See?” the other voice replied. “He’s fine.” I blinked my eyes a few times, trying to focus on one thing—on anything. The world bounced, and my vision was so blurred it was like looking through a muddy river. I blinked again, then blinked a third time and swallowed the moan of pain that traveled up my throat and threatened to break past my teeth.

  I needed to shut it down. Pain was temporary. Death was forever.

  Slowly my vision cleared as I strained to focus. Mayor Bloomington’s short stature stood in front of me, a Glock in his hand and two strong men flanking either side of him. It was almost humorous seeing him up close. He was short and stocky, with his dark hair combed over to hide the baldness in the middle of his head. He had a cocky sort of expression, as if he were convinced everything was under control. My fingers twitched against their bindings, and I ached to grab the gun from his palm and shove it in his mouth so I could pull the trigger and end his pathetic life. I’d never wanted to kill someone so venomously.

  “I’m assuming you want to trade? The video for your assassin?”

  I fixed my eyes on Gavriel, who was surrounded by his men. Blaise Bennett. Callum Mercer. And Ryker Hill.

  “I’m not really good at trading,” Gavriel replied coolly. I didn’t know what game he was playing at, but having all of us here wasn’t very good. I quickly counted at least forty men behind Gavriel and just as many behind Mayor Bloomington. We were in a large open space, it looked like a clearing of trees in upstate New York. A large concrete slab covered the ground, like a building used to be here. Escalades, Hummers, and Jeeps created a circle of massive vehicles around us. One glance behind me, and I was able to see that they pulled me from the trunk of a Range Rover.

  I guess they didn’t want to have the showdown in the public eye. A gang fight out in the open would look bad for the mayor, and Gavriel probably wanted to avoid getting arrested. Probably. I rolled my eyes.

  Slowly, my brain started to piece together what was happening. The pain receded as I pulled my focus to my surroundings. It was like tugging the curtain back on my mind and letting clarity through. I didn’t have time for suffering. “I’m not really good at that either,” Mayor Bloomington replied.

  “You’re just good at kidnapping, fucking, and murdering innocent boys, huh? That’s why you were hooked up with Paul Bright, after all,” Gavriel replied.

  Anger fumed through me. I didn’t usually like to know the reasons for my kills, but I was thankful to hear this. So he was a sicko? I eyed the asshole up and down. He certainly looked like a disgusting fucker, and the careless way he paraded his mistress in front of his wife just furthered that point. He was selfish and entitled. It would make ending Mayor Bloomington’s life that much more pleasurable.

  I watched as the mayor’s cheeks turned red. A split moment of terror flashed across his features. It lasted only a moment, but even my sluggish mind caught it. I saw in that brief moment that he was absolutely guilty. But then he opened his mouth and let out a dark laugh, as if the accusations were amusing to him. A couple of the guards standing by took small steps away, shifting to create distance between them and the murderous pedophile.

  “Your accusations are bullshit,” Mayor Bloomington said. “Killing boys was more Paul’s thing. I don’t think you actually have a video. If you did, you’d know that I was more into watching than participating.”

  What a sick motherfucker. Fucking hell.

  An expression I couldn’t place crossed Gavriel’s features. It looked like a cross between determination and disgust. I was feeling the same thing. I had plenty of reasons to want to kill this man. It stopped being Gavriel’s fight when he hurt Mack. But knowing this, simply validated the kill. Mayor Bloomington was breathing on borrowed time.

  “Evidence is for cops,” Gavriel replied. “I don’t need proof to know you’re a shitty human and even shittier mayor.”

  Mayor Bloomington clutched his chest in mock pain. “Ouch, Gavriel. That hurts. Especially coming from a washed up gangster. Your empire has slowed down over the years. I’m surprised you even had the resources to show up. And not to be rude, but your men could use some proper training.” Fucking bastard. I had other shit to worry about, but that was definitely a hit to my pride. I didn’t like sitting here on the floor tied up. I was Hunter Fucking Hammond. “I’ve always wondered why the Bullets took it upon themselves to ruin Paul Bright’s legacy all those years ago. It wouldn’t happen to be because of that sweet piece of ass you’re married to, would it?”

  I knew immediately that was the wrong thing to say. You could break every single bone in Gavriel Moretti’s body, and he wouldn’t give two fucks. You so much as breathed in Sunshine’s direction, and you were a dead man. Blaise, Callum, and Ryker all wore equally murderous expressions. This little standoff was going to end soon, and there was a good chance that Bloomington wouldn’t make it out alive.

  “I’m bored. Let’s end this.”

  Though he mock yawned for emphasis, I saw the quick snap of his hand and the rapid fire of his gun. Gavriel was the first to shoot, and flying bullets rained down like hellfire on the open space. I lifted my bound hands up to cover my head and rolled toward Gavriel, my head throbbing as I went. One bullet clipped my ear mid-roll with an echo of screams bouncing along my skull, but I continued until two hands lifted me up and a knife sliced through the ropes on my wrist and ankles.

  “You’ll have to teach me that rolling maneuver,” Blaise Bennett, Gavriel’s right hand man, said in a slight shout. “You looked like a cute little rolling pin.”

  Rolling pin? They were seriously fucking with my pride. “Fuck off and give me a gun. Where is Gavriel?”

  “Already in the bulletproof van,” Blaise said before shoving me behind a Hummer. Glass shattered to our right as a car sped off. “That bastard got the glory shot of nailing Bloomington between
the eyes, then left. We had a bet that whoever made it home first gets to eat Sunshine out,” he teased. Only Blaise would joke in the middle of a fucking shoot-out.

  I peered over the hood of the Hummer and aimed at one of Bloomington’s men as more cars sped by. Some of his guards were fleeing. Some of them were hiding. Only a handful were shooting back. His men definitely felt no loyalty. All of Gavriel’s men stood like brick walls, making sure his car got out of there safely while firing at the mayor’s men.

  I aimed at a guy with blond hair and a tattoo of an eyeball on his jugular. I shot him quickly, hitting him in his left temple. “Ryker is gone—probably racing Gavriel home. Callum is dragging Bloomington’s body to one of the trucks,” Blaise said, giving a play-by-play while shooting down another guard. “Man, I haven’t had fun like this in ages.”

  I spotted a man hiding behind a large slab of concrete. He wasn’t even looking where he was shooting, just holding down the trigger of his automatic rifle and aiming blindly. He took down four of his own men before showering us with bullets.

  “Shit. Fuck. Damn. These idiots have no idea what they’re doing,” Blaise said before tossing me another magazine. I reloaded my gun, then aimed at the idiot.

  I breathed in and out, then shot him in the chest.

  My head ached. My parched mouth was pursed. “Okay, the others are loaded in the car. Let’s go,” Blaise said before opening the back door to the Hummer and climbing inside. I joined him and had to duck and crawl across the passenger seat and the center console to get behind the wheel.

  “Go!” Blaise demanded, his body hanging out the back window as he shot at the remaining guards. I sped off, kicking up dust as I went, leaving behind nothing but blood and bodies.

  “That was a fucking mess,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Yeah, I don’t envy the team that’ll be on cleanup duty for that.” The adrenaline and Blaise’s nonchalant attitude made a wide grin cross my face. “Shit. We did it! Your girl was all worried for nothing,” Blaise said with a wave of his hand.

  My girl? “Roe? She’s still here?”

  “Yup. Probably braiding Sunshine’s hair or some shit as we speak. Gavriel might have left while she was asleep. She seemed like the type to want to come, and none of us really wanted the risk of pissing you off—though I have to admit, you’ve lost your touch.”

  My mind ran with thoughts of Roe. I told her to leave, but she didn’t. “Thanks for saving me,” I said, feeling awkward as I accelerated and merged onto a highway.

  A hand clasped my shoulder, and I glanced at Blaise from over my shoulder. “You might be this independent, recluse badass, but you’re still a Bullet. Bullets forever, bro.”

  “Yeah,” I replied incredulously. “Bullets forever.”

  But this entire ordeal helped me realize that now more than ever, I desperately wanted to leave the Bullets behind.

  ROE

  Gavriel Moretti had a gym in his building. A nice gym, with fancy equipment, a steam room, and plenty of treadmills, ellipticals, bikes, and various weight machines. But I didn’t want to use any of that. I missed my simple gym. I missed punching a faceless bag until my knuckles screamed. I was on the ground doing crunches. Up. Down. Up. Down. The repetitive movement was like rocking a baby to sleep.

  “They’re going to be okay,” Nicole said from her corner of the room. She was sitting on a bench, munching a jelly donut and drinking orange juice.

  Up. Down. Up. Down.

  My core cramped with every movement. Sweat dripped down my abs.

  “I can’t believe that bastard left without me. I wanted to go,” I gritted.

  Nicole rolled her eyes. “You and I both know that you wouldn’t have been helpful in that situation. And maybe I’m selfish, but I’d rather you not die. Any word on Mack? Should we go to the hospital?”

  Mack. I probably should go to the hospital, but I felt glued here. I was desperate for updates and just wanted to know what was happening. “The nurse called an hour ago. He’s on antibiotics. They stitched him up, and he’s sleeping.” I felt bad for not being there waiting for him, but I was only one person. One of the things my mother taught me was that you couldn’t pour from an empty cup. Maybe that’s why our relationship felt so calculated and strained. She had nothing left to give me, because all her energy was spent surviving. Besides, I knew that I wouldn’t be much help there. Mack needed to sleep, and I needed to focus on not completely freaking the fuck out.

  “That’s good,” Nicole said. Her voice was cautious. “Let’s go there whenever you’re done doing...whatever it is you’re doing. Is this what your gym time is like? I feel like this is some hella toxic coping mechanism, girl.”

  “Can we do therapy some other time? You already spent the last hour yelling at me. I’m not saying I don’t deserve it, but I’m about at my threshold of taking shit.” I did another crunch. Up. Down. Up. Down.

  “Fine,” Nicole huffed.

  I moved until my abs burned, and then decided that it was time to stand up and run until I puked. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I pulled myself up and was about to do just that when a commotion down the hall made me snap my attention to the door. “Hunter,” I whispered.

  My feet moved fast, pounding the tiled floor as I ran out of the gym and down the stairs to the entryway. I couldn’t pick out any specific, individual voices. My feet shook as I moved. Drowning in anxiety, I didn’t stop until I was running into the commotion. “Whoa, whoa,” a tall man said as I collided with a hard chest. I looked up and stared at a man that was splattered with blood. “Slow down,” he growled before wiping his forehead with the edge of his sleeve.

  It looked like a war zone. Bodies entered the immaculate foyer, covered in blood. A few of them were limping. There was a too-still body lying on the tile in the far corner that I knew in my twisted, paranoid gut was dead with a capital D. Luckily, he had brown hair, so I surmised that it wasn’t Hunter.

  Sunshine was fluttering around, dividing people up by injury, with Gavriel at her side. The other men I met when I first visited with Gavriel strolled in, looking disheveled and annoyed. The moment she saw them, Sunshine let out a sigh of relief and wrapped them both in a hug before quickly unbuckling the blond’s belt and using the thin leather strap as a tourniquet on a man bleeding out. Damn, she was a pro at this.

  “Hunter?” I called out while picking through the various men, searching their faces for him. “Hunter?”

  Someone else walked through the front door, Blaise. “Honey, I’m home,” he shouted, obviously uncaring about the chaos going on. It really felt like soldiers coming back from war. Unlike everyone else, Blaise looked like he just got back from an afternoon stroll in the park. Not a gelled piece of hair was out of place, and he still wore his aviator sunglasses, with a smile on his face. Sunshine immediately went to him for a quick hug before returning to the writhing man on the floor.

  I had just started to push through the crowd to get to the front door and ask Blaise if he had seen Hunter, when a second slumped body stepped through the threshold. My heart swore immediately. I knew who it was, despite the large blooming bruise on his forehead the size of a golf ball. Dried blood covered his swollen face, too. He staggered inside and searched the room, and I got the sense he was seeking me out just as I was looking for him. Our eyes collided, and it felt like the entire fucking world stopped spinning.

  “Pretty Debt,” he mouthed.

  “Stalker,” I mouthed back.

  The broken men surrounding me slowed. Their groans of pain dimmed at the site of Hunter. My heart beat three achingly slow times as I stood there in a trance. A body bumped into me. Blood splattered on my calf. It was a brief, fleeting moment of relief—but it was ours. I savored it, I treasured it, and then I immediately jumped into helping Sunshine.

  “This man is about to bleed out,” I said.

  “I’ve got a team of doctors that’ll be here in five minutes. They’ve been on standby,” Gavriel yelled over the noise.
He had his phone stuck to his ear and was barking orders to whoever was on the other end of the line. “I want the cleanup crew to get rid of every body left on that scene. I don’t want anyone linking it to me. If there is a single hair or drop of blood left behind, I’ll personally cut your balls off.” My brows rose at his threat.

  “Hunter?” Gavriel then called. “On a scale of one to getting captured by Bloomington’s men, how capable are you of making the mayor’s body disappear?” the mob boss growled. Hunter exchanged a longing look with me before answering the angry Bullet leader. I knew what he wanted because I wanted a reunion too, but there was too much shit going on.

  “I’m on it,” he replied before following Callum outside.

  “You,” Gavriel said while pointing at Blaise. “Make every single bullet-holed vehicle parked in my underground garage disappear. Take it to Josi’s junkyard. They don’t ask questions.”

  “On it,” Blaise pouted before blowing Sunshine a kiss.

  On and on and on it went. Gavriel took control of the situation like he’d been doing it his entire life. I guess, in many ways, he had. He was born for this. If anything, this entire situation made me realize how unfit Hunter really was for the Bullet life. This wasn’t him. The more I saw of the Bullets, I knew that on the surface he seemed like a perfect fit. Protective and kind. Brutal. Demanding. Smart, hardened by his past, and assessing, but also gentle when he wanted to be. I wasn’t disillusioned about what he was capable of. But this life was chaotic. He needed the calm seclusion of Joshua Tree. He thrived in simplicity. I’d seen the evidence of it. This wasn’t his life. Hunter wasn’t a Bullet. Not really.