41. Chapter 41
Hunter
The call goes straight to voicemail again. The little shit turned off his phone. I toss my cell into the cupholder, gripping the steering wheel until the leather bites into my palm.
“You look like you’re deciding where to bury someone.” Rua shifts in the passenger seat, his boots propped on the dash of my truck, a lollipop clicking against his teeth.
“My boyfriends.”
“Look at you, multitasking. How's Jenkins doing anyway?”
“Better. Out of the hospital. But still in pain.”
“He'll be back on the ice before you know it.” Rua shifts, dropping his boots off the dash. “So that's the place?”
I nod and look across the street at my brother’s house. It’s small. White siding, low porch, narrow driveway. The bushes are overgrown enough to hide movement under the front window, and the blinds are pulled tight. No car in the driveway. No lights on.
Doesn’t mean it’s empty.
Rua stretches, the hem of his T-shirt riding up. “Really think this Natalie chick knew what your brother was up to?”
I grunt.
There are a few reasons we drove out to Toledo. My brother’s girlfriend is one of them. Not sure how involved she was in their plan. Still, if she helped in any way, she belongs in the ground with the rest of them.
Rua bites into his lollipop, the crunch filling the cabin. “So, are we nervous about cops, or did Shin’s little cleanup demons earn their glitter?”
“They had questions. I had sufficient answers. Titans game was streamed, so they can access that. Hospital had me on camera.”
Rua hums. “Cute. Love when trauma comes with receipts.”
The engine idles, heater clicking on.
I owe Shin. It’s not the first time we’ve used his people to clean up a kill. But this one was personal. Reyes came up with dumping the bodies in Ohio. So far, it’s held.
“We going inside to rummage through your brother’s sad little secrets the cops missed?” Rua drums his fingers on the door panel. “Or are we waiting to see if the girlfriend shows?”
“Both.”
I kill the engine and growl when Rua tosses the lollipop stick onto the footwell. Fucking nuisance.
He winks, pulls the Glock out from under his seat, then tucks it into his waistband. “Better I carry it. If cops show, you’re the tragic brother. I’m plausible deniability with cheekbones.”
Grunting, I grab his hunting knife, secure it, then step out of the truck.
We pull our baseball caps low and cross the street. This is a small neighborhood. One where people pay attention. And while I have a right to be here, it doesn’t mean I want to be seen.
Rua veers toward the side entrance, partially hidden by the overgrown bushes. He tries the knob.
Locked.
He pulls a pick set from his back pocket and has it open in under ten seconds.
We tiptoe inside, both of us scanning the kitchen. There’s fingerprint dust on the counter edges, the light switch, and the fridge handle. Some drawers are pulled out, others shoved back in crooked.
“I’ll take the back rooms.” Rua reaches behind him, hand settling on the grip of the Glock. “You good out here?”
I nod.
He disappears down the hallway, and I make my way into the living room. The room is small, the carpet dirty. Some car magazines litter the scratched-up coffee table, a partially full ashtray next to them.
On the end table is a small picture frame.
I step closer and pick it up. Haven’t seen this photo in a long time.
It was Garrett’s favorite. My thumb brushes over the image of us from that summer we went fishing with our father.
Think Garrett was seven. He’s smiling, and I’m looking up at him instead of the camera.
I set the frame face-down on the end table, then wipe my eyes.
Why’d everything have to go to shit?
The porch creaks, then the deadbolt on the front door clicks.
I reach for the knife at my waist as the door opens.
A woman steps through, brown hair up in a ponytail, large sunglasses on.
She has the collar of her dark green jacket pulled up to cover half her face.
The minute she spots me, her hand dips into her purse.
“Nuh, uh.” Raiyne steps out from the kitchen, gun trained on her. “Let’s not make this awkward. Drop it.”
The silver slide catches my eye before she lets go and slowly pulls her hand free, then raises both arms, palms out. “Who are you?”
My hand stays on the hilt of the knife, but I don’t pull it out. “You first.”
“This is my boyfriend’s house. And you sure as fuck don’t belong here.”
“You’re Natalie?”
She drops her hands, pushing up her sunglasses to rest on the top of her head. “And again, who the fuck are you?”
“Hunter Kincaid. Garrett’s brother.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh.”
“That was exciting.” Rua lowers the gun, moves to step around her, but stops halfway. He raises the Glock, leveling it at her head. “Let’s try the introduction one more time. Sound good, Shyanne?”
I pull the knife from my waistband and step toward her. She takes a step back, but Rua presses the barrel into her temple. My gaze cuts to my teammate. “You know her?”
“In a way.” His smile spreads slow and wide. “You can say she’s a coworker.”
Shyanne’s eyes widen for a second, then she whirls on him, not caring about the gun trained on her. “Fuck you, Raiyne.”
“Oh, wouldn’t you like that. Saw you checking me out at the last event.”
“Enough.” I jut my chin at her bag. “Take that from her.”
He does.
She sneers, turning to look at me. “What do you want? Why are you here?”
“Sit.”
“I’m perfectly fine—”
“I said sit.” My voice comes out deep, commanding.
Rua prods her with the gun when she refuses to move. “Poke monsters, and this is going to turn into a really fun party. For us, not you.”
“Fuck off, slut.”
“Did you just—me? What does that make you, Ms. Bukkake Queen?” He winks, smirking wider. “Oh, I heard all about how you sabotaged Mia to take her session. Heard they left quite a tip so can’t really blame you for being opportunistic.”
She spins fast, her palm cracking across his cheek. “You don’t know shit.”
I grab her arm and yank her toward the couch. “Sit the fuck down, or I slit your throat. Won’t tell you again.”
Natalie—Shyanne—whoever the fuck she is—finally sits.
“Was the alias part of the plan?” The fingers of my free hand curl into a fist, eyes narrowing. “Another way for you and my brother to get closer to Atlas and me?”
Her brows furrow. “What? No.”
My upper lip twitches. “So you knew what he had planned. You help Wade get out?”
She shakes her head, and for the first time her nerves show in the tremble of her hands. “No idea what you’re talking about. I–I know your uncle murdered him. The police came to my job a few days ago to ask questions. But . . . they were working together? It wasn’t your uncle who killed Garrett?”
“Ugh. Stop with the theatrics.” Rua not only rolls his eyes but his neck as well, like the dramatic fuck he can be. “You really expect us to believe you had nooo idea what they were up to? Please.”
Shyanne kicks her foot out, but he gets out of the way. “Why don’t you go find a dick to suck?”
“And leave you alone with him?” He points his thumb at me. “You’d be dead already if it weren’t for me.” Rua taps his chin with his forefinger. “I am curious though, why are you here, in Toledo, with Garrett? I saw the type of men you could pull.”
Wasn’t thrilled when Rua offered to take the ride out here with me. The team decided not to let me come alone. Most of the drive I wanted to strangle the talkative fucker. But now, I’m glad he came.
After tucking the knife into my waistband, I cross my arms. “Answer him.”
Her fingers grip the cushion, probably the only thing keeping her seated, based on the sneer she shoots me. “Go to hell.”
My arms flex, a low growl rumbling from my chest. “Answer.”
“Garrett was just a means to an end. A way to find my little brother.”
My body goes rigid.
“Shiloh disappeared almost a year ago.” Her eyes drop to the ground. “Right after they found our older sister’s body. She disappeared a few years ago.” Shyanne’s bottom lip quivers. “Her body was found with one of her friends . . . Natalie.”
So, that’s where she got the name.
Shyanne pulls her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “My sister always took care of us, took care of Shiloh’s medical bills. We never asked how she got the money.” She huffs a sad laugh. “Turns out my sister worked private parties for the Obsidian Rabbit.”
Rua puts the gun away, then leans against the wall. “Okay, but how does your little brother fit into all of that?”
She sniffles. “He felt like it was his fault. Also, the police weren’t taking her murder seriously. I found an employment application he filled out along with a fake ID.” She rests her forehead against her knees. “Shiloh was only seventeen when he disappeared.”
My fingers dig into my biceps. Fucking hell. He’s only a kid.
“What did Garret have to do with it?”
She looks up at me. “When I started working there, I poked around to see if anyone knew my brother. No one did. Until one day. Someone remembered him, but by a different name. Garrett was there that day meeting with one of the managers. The person pointed at him and said the last they’d seen, my brother and a few other younger looking people were getting into a van Garret was driving. ”
Fucking hell.
I look at Rua, then back at her. “How much do you know about my family?”
“Not much. Garrett only ever talked about you. How he missed you and hoped to reconnect. He told me about how the two of you would build pillow forts and roast marshmallows over the stove when your father wasn’t home.”
My fingers flex at my sides, throat constricting.
Rua toys with one of his bangs. “What’s his connection to the Obsidian Rabbit?”
“I just know Garrett met up with the same manager a few times.” She pulls her knees tighter against her chest.
Rua scoffs. “Let me guess. Was it Elio?”
She nods.
“Guy’s such a creep. Like a sleazy car salesman.
Figured he was running some kind of side hustle.
He was always taking a larger cut from some of those private sessions he set up.
” Rua looks at me, a lopsided smirk on his face.
“Like that one in Miami back in January. Swear to shit, between him and Knight, I lost out big time on what I should’ve been paid. ”
I glare at him. “Not the time.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve got bills to pay, asshole.”
Ignoring him, I turn back to Shyanne. “If you’re still here, take it you haven’t found your brother.”
She shakes her head.
“Your brother’s most likely dead.”
“He’s not.”
I grunt and wait for her to continue.
She slides her feet from the cushion back to the floor. “One day Garrett got high, started talking about wanting to get married. He promised we’d have a good life, that a big payload was coming. That’s when I found he’d been a runner for a trafficking ring.”
Mother. Fucker.
Rua pushes off the wall. “So, your brother—”
“Yeah, he was sold. I got that much out of Garrett that night.” Shyanne wipes her eyes. “Maybe you’re right. He might be dead by now. I just . . . I can’t stop looking. Not until I’m certain.”
The room starts to feel smaller, like the walls are closing in. Sweat begins to bead on my forehead, foot tapping restlessly. None of it stopped. Not after my father died. Not after my uncle got locked up. No, my goddamn brother got involved in selling people.
Selling children.
“FUCK!”
A hand rests on my forearm, and I spin, grabbing the person’s throat.
Rua.
“Easy there, big guy. It’s just me.” He tilts his head and smiles. “Wanna let go? I mean, I’m all into breath play, makes me come so hard, but doubt Trembley and Jenkins would appreciate it.”
I grunt and drop my hand. “Jackass.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Shyanne stands. “I only came here to collect some of my things. You mind?”
I step out of her way, but nod at Rua. “Keep an eye on her.”
He shoves his hands into his pockets and prances off after Shyanne. She’s gone twenty minutes later. After that, Rua and I tear the house apart. Every drawer, every closet, every loose board.
No fucking idea what we’re even looking for. Maybe something to help Shyanne. But the house is clean. Either the cops collected whatever evidence Garrett had, or my brother kept shit hidden somewhere else.
I swallow hard as I look at the face-down picture frame before we leave the house. My big brother died years ago, back in the forest in Ironwood along with the rest of those kids. Killed by my father.
Just took me a while to realize it.
Once we’re in the truck, Rua immediately puts his feet up on the dashboard, already unwrapping another lollipop. “Los Angeles is going to be so much fun.”
“You’re not going.”
“Cute that you think you have a say.” He hollows his cheeks around the lollipop, pulling it free with a wet pop. “Told Shyanne I'd dig up what I could on her brother. Besides, I'm very good on my knees. Elio will be spilling his secrets in ten minutes.”
“Raiyne.”
“Hunter.”
I start the engine and pull away from the curb. No matter what I say, he’s not going to listen. “Either you tell Reyes what’s going on or I will.”
“You're such a party pooper.” He puts in his AirPods, then closes his eyes.
Thank fuck.
Last thing I wanted was to spend the ten-hour drive home arguing with him. Reyes will handle this, come up with a plan to keep Rua safe. I’ll help where I can, but Cody and Atlas are my main priorities.
They’re my future.