Hunter
Olivia presses her hands against the car window and smushes her nose against it. “Do you think Uncle Spence and Uncle Ken would let us live here?”
“We have a home.”
“Some people have two homes.”
“And some people don’t. Grab your bag.”
She’s already waiting, doing little jumps and practically vibrating as she waits for me to close the driver’s side door and lock the car. “You don’t think they’d want us to live with them?”
I don’t think I would want to live with them. And that’s not a conversation I’m going to ever start. “You don’t like our home?” I ask as I press the buzzer at the gate. Kendrick won’t be long; they’ll have known the moment I pulled up.
Olivia rushes ahead of me and slaps her palm against the front door, dropping her bag at her feet. “Uncle Spence?” she calls out. “Uncle Ken?”
Kendrick opens the door and is already braced for the hug she lays at his legs. “Hey, kiddo.”
“Thank you for taking her at such short notice,” I tell him. “She’s a handful.”
“I am not!” She sticks her tongue out at me and then shoots behind Kendrick’s legs as if he’ll protect her from her father’s wrath.
“I’ll buy you a beer,” I tell Kendrick.
“Better make that five. Oh, here, since you’re here it saves me from sending this out.” He reaches over to the table by the door and grabs two deep-red envelopes. “Wedding invites.”
“Ah.” The envelope has my name printed onto the front and is closed with a golden wax seal. Cracking it open, I slide out the fancy card, with the usual You are cordially invited to the wedding of Spencer Torres and Kendrick Fischer. And a date.
“A whole month away? Spencer said two weeks when I spoke to him last.”
“I persuaded Spence we needed more time to organise the house before we can host that kind of event.”
I can just imagine how he “persuaded” him. Spencer is incredibly stubborn when he wants something, and Kendrick spoils him, which doesn’t help the situation.
“And one for you,” Kendrick says, handing Olivia an identical envelope.
“I get my own invite!?” Her mouth opens, eyes wide. She rips it open with less finesse than me, and her mouth widens further. “That is so cool. It’s beautiful. Can we put it on the fridge?”
“When we go home.” If I agree without context, she might demand we go home right now and do it.
“Can I bring a plus-one?”
Kendrick exchanges a confused glance with me. “Uh, sure? Got someone in mind?”
“Can I bring Mr. Snow?” she asks me, twisting her head to stare up at me in a wordless plea.
I should have seen that one coming, the way she idolizes him. Unfortunately for her, I doubt he’ll ever want to speak to me again. He’s my next destination, and if he slams the door in my face, I won’t blame him. “We can talk about it later.” After the wedding sounds like a good time for it.
“Don’t you like Mr. Snow?”
“I like Mr. Snow just fine. We can talk about it later.” She’s like a dog with a bone sometimes. I can’t even say that the stubbornness is purely from her other father. It’s an unsavoury trait we both possess, unfortunately.
Olivia rolls her eyes, and I let that one slide. Not the right time to pick a battle. “Fiiiiiine. Uncle Ken, can I feed the fish?”
“You can feed them fish food,” Kendrick clarifies. It’s always important to clarify with my child. Loopholes are her specialty. I’m sure she’ll be a lawyer to be reckoned with one day.
“They like pizza,” she insists.
“They like living more,” Kendrick says, tugging a strand of her hair. “Go put your stuff in the spare room and find Spence before you feed anyone.”
“Did you put that lamp I got you in there?” she asks excitedly, flouncing off with a skip in her step instead of waiting for the answer.
“For your sake, I hope the answer is yes,” I say dryly.
Kendrick returns my look. “Do I look stupid to you?” Then his expression turns concerned, and he leans against the doorframe. “Spence told me what happened last night. What the hell is going on?”
“I wish I knew.” A half-truth. I’m aware it has something to do with Xavier, and we’re all just caught up in the middle of it, and that’s as far as my knowledge goes at this point in time. There’s no need to start a witch hunt for the man just yet.
“What do you need from us?”
“Spence and Six are coordinating with Adam and Theodore to see if we can track down this ‘Lester Clarence.’ Until we know more, we don’t have enough to go on.
I haven’t received any more interesting gifts, and we don’t even know for sure if the two incidents are connected or just a fucked-up coincidence. ”
“Either way, we’ve got your back.”
“I have a meeting with the commissioner that I may need you to take for me.” If there’s one person that I would trust to take over for me one day, it’s Kendrick.
Jericho doesn’t want it and prefers to sit back and let someone else lead, Six is a loose cannon, Greer would never want to retire from the force, Moira is too much of a free spirit, and she has aspirations beyond us, and Spencer is unpredictable on the best day.
Kendrick is solid and reliable in a way that will put me at ease if I ever have to step down.
“Yeah, I could probably do that. Send me info about the meeting?”
“Monday.” We work enough extra as it is, no need to invite it when it isn’t warranted. Looking after my child while I sort out the danger that’s sitting too close is more important to me than anything else. “Give me a call if you need anything for her.”
“We’ll handle it, you do what you need to.”
You do what you need to. Easier said than done.
All the way to Matthew’s house, I try to figure out what exactly to say to him.
“Sorry” is inadequate and doesn’t even begin to properly convey the issues that he walked into.
And just what I allowed to happen in front of him.
Xavier has always been able to make me lose all thought, all brain cells, narrowing down the world until I’ll do anything to ensure he continues to hold me.
I still haven’t worked it out by the time I’m pulling up a block from Matthew’s house.
Keeping the car out of sight, I walk around the corner to where his residence sits.
While it’s the same as the rest of the houses on the quiet suburban street, he’s done a lot to the space to make it unique.
A wooden archway, made of the same material the short fence is, sits where the footpath meets the walkway leading to the front door, covered with vines.
Garden beds line the house with a nice pop of colour.
A swinging chair, big enough to fit three grown adults, is beside the front door, along with a small outdoor dining set with a round table and three chairs.
There’s even a “welcome” mat with a cat waving on it at the front door. I should never have allowed him to set foot in my world; he’s not built for it.
He doesn’t greet me with his usual smile when he answers the door. Instead, he falters and takes a small, surprised step back. There’s a pang of sadness deep in my chest at the loss. “Hunter.”
I’m not sure what to say to him, where to even start.
He glances behind me as if expecting someone else to be with me. “How do you know where I live?” He shakes his head. “No, don’t answer that. I probably wouldn’t like the answer.”
“Probably not.” It’s not that hard to find someone, when one has access to most databases that exist in Australia. “Matthew, I need to apologise for last night. And perhaps try to explain.”
Warm red rushes across his cheeks like a river flowing with water. So quick to blush, so endearing when he does it. “You don’t have to—”
“I do. Xavier and I are complicated, and I should never have allowed it to get that far. Not when we were on a date.” I’d been enjoying myself more than I thought I would. Matthew is smart, and funny, and his smile can light up a room; what more does someone want from an ideal date?
“Were we, though?” He bites his bottom lip, taking hold of the side of the door like he wants to use it as a shield between us. “I’m beginning to think that anyone with you is a stand-in for him.”
I wish I could say that he was wrong. “I’m very sorry, Matthew.”
“What about the other one?”
“Miles.” Somehow, he’s even more complicated.
“He and Xavier are a package deal.” Even before it was a sexual thing, that was true.
There has never been a time I’ve known Xavier that Miles hasn’t been nearby.
Not even I know the true extent of their history or how they met.
What keeps Miles so loyal. “May I come inside?” What I want to speak to him about isn’t something I’m comfortable discussing out in the open.
Very few people know what I do for a living, even fewer are invited to see even further beyond that.
He deserves more than a passing explanation.
He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, knuckles going white on the door. “Uh—I…” A sharp nod. “Yeah, okay, c’mon in.” He opens the door wider, but I don’t step through.
Awareness flickers at the back of my neck, and I turn just in time to see a black Mercedes-Benz SUV driving past with the window down. Something about it isn’t quite right. It’s moving too fast.
The glint of metal raises all of my instincts, and I shove Matthew inside before following, tackling him to the ground and kicking the door shut with my foot at the same time. Bullets hit the door where we’d been standing.
“What the fuck?” Matthew exclaims. He tries to push me off, and I keep him down with a hand on his shoulder even as I lift to one knee and twist.
“Shh. Stay down there.” He obeys instantly, and I bite down the urge to praise him. Not really the time. Turning my head a fraction, I listen carefully. Tires squealing. Doors slamming. Not a drive-by. They’re coming in. Goddammit. “Where’s your back door?”
“My—why?”