Hunter
HUNTER
" W
here the hell is the doc?" I barked at one of my guys who stood too close, his eyes wide and useless.
" Wasn't here when we arrived, boss."
" Get him on the fucking phone. Now !" My command was a growl, my patience a thin wire about to snap. I laid Rosalind down on the couch gently, trying not to jostle her. Her breaths came shallow and pained, a rib stuck out at a weird angle, and after lifting her shirt, her stomach was dark. Fuck .
I paced back and forth like a caged animal, the need to see her well again clawing at my insides. Every second ticked by with the weight of a damn anvil.
" Doc's five minutes out," Marco said, stepping back quickly to avoid my wrath .
Minutes stretched into an eternity until the sound of tires crunching gravel signaled the doctor's arrival. About goddamn time.
He burst through the door, medical bag in hand, and wasted no time kneeling beside Rosalind . His hands moved over her with practiced urgency, assessing the damage that had been done to what was mine.
" Internal bleeding," he muttered, pressing gently on her abdomen and eliciting a soft moan from Rosalind's lips. " Ribs are fucked too."
" Fix her," I commanded, my voice a low rumble of contained violence.
The doctor's eyes met mine, a flicker of fear passing through them before he nodded. " Need to put her under. Medically induced coma. Gotta check the extent of the internal damage. It could be surgery. She needs to go to the hospital. I can’t do it here."
" Then do it." My words left no room for argument. I watched, every muscle tensed, as he prepped whatever cocktail of drugs needed to send her into oblivion.
" This way, she won’t hurt as we move her," the doctor spoke, carefully avoiding eye contact as he administered the dose. " She'll not feel a thing."
" Better not." I stood over her, the darkness in me stirring at the sight of her so still.
They said I ruled with an iron fist. They were right. But this girl, this woman, she'd become more than just a bride, more than just a trophy. She was a fire that warmed even the coldest parts of me.
“ Ambulance will be here in a few. They’ll do what they need to and bring her to the OR . I’ll be waiting when they arrive.” Doc wasted no time leaving and peeling out of the driveway.
The ambulance wailed as it pulled up. Inside , shit was getting more real by the second, Rosalind lying there, tubes sticking out of her like she was some goddamn cyborg. I rode shotgun with the driver, knuckles white on my thighs, each bump making me angry.
" Drive faster," I growled, voice low and dangerous, a promise of hell to pay if he didn't push that pedal down to the metal.
The ER doors busted open, and they wheeled her away towards whatever fucking room they were going to cut her open in. Marco trailed behind, his face a mask of stone, but those eyes gave away the storm brewing inside him.
" Should've fucking been there sooner," Marco muttered, a mantra of guilt.
" Shut it," I snapped. The words tasted like acid on my tongue. Blame wasn't a luxury we could afford right now. " Focus on what we do when she wakes up. Focus on making them pay."
We paced back and forth, the click-clack of our boots loud in the waiting room. Nurses shot us wary glances, sensing the danger we brought into their sanitized sanctuary. I caught sight of myself in a window reflection – a towering specter of wrath, all muscle, and ink, still bloodied from the battle.
" Desmond ," one of the scrubs called out, interrupting my mental hit list.
" Talk ," I demanded, stepping into his space. He was such a little man, but he held the fate of my woman.
" Prepping for surgery," he stammered, trying to maintain some semblance of professional composure. " Internal bleeding. They're moving fast."
" Good ," I said, each syllable a hammer strike. " They better fix her."
" Or else?" His eyes flicked to mine, a silent challenge.
" Or else the morgue will be busy tonight."
" Fuck this waiting," I spit out, my hand itching for the feel of my knife, the weight of my gun. Patience was a virtue meant for saints, and I was no fucking saint.
" Easy , brother," Marco said, placing a broad hand on my shoulder, steadying the storm within me. " She'll pull through. "
" Damn right, she will," the fire of my rage burning hotter at the thought of her waking, her dark eyes meeting mine once again. " And when she does, the world better brace for the hellfire we'll rain down on them."
We were the darkness that crept in, the monsters they whispered about in hushed tones. And soon, very soon, they'd remember why they feared the night.
T he sterile light of the hospital hallway glared down, too bright, too fucking clean for a place filled with so much agony and death. My boots echoed off the linoleum, a steady drumbeat of impatience, the leather chair creaking as I shifted. It had been fucking hours...
Then , salvation came. The doctor scrubbed up and weary-eyed, pushed through the double doors with news etched on his face. My heart throttled against my ribs, ready to burst.
" Rosalind ," I growled, stepping into the man's space, close enough to smell the sweat and fear on him. " Talk ."
" Successful ," he exhaled, that one word cutting through the tension. " Full recovery. She will need rest. Lots of rest. But I will pull her out of the coma slowly. You can see her in a few hours. They’re cleaning her now."
Relief . Sweet fucking relief. My Rosalind is tough as nails and a true fighter. She'd be back in my arms, her dark eyes sparking with that fire I'd come to crave.
" Thanks , doc," Marco cut in. He clapped a hand on the doctor's shoulder in thanks.
" Stay with her," I ordered Marco , eyes locked on the doors behind which lay my sole reason for not burning this place to the ground. " Keep her safe. I’m going to pay a visit to our little friend."
" She won't wake alone," he assured me with a sharp nod.
" Good ." Angelo would pay, and I’d be the reaper collecting his fucking due. But perhaps I should save a little something for her. She can finish him off if she wants. No , I just wanted to make him hurt the way she hurt.
A nurse scurried past, glancing up at me before quickly averting her gaze. I smiled. Let them whisper about the monster in their midst; let them feel the chill of my presence. Once upon a time, I’d have fucked her, but now I hardly noticed if she was a blondie or a brunette.
S lammed the mansion door behind me, my boots echoing through the silent halls, a death march to the cells below. Anger coiled in my gut, every step fueled by visions of Rosalind's broken body.
The dank air of the basement was thick with the stench of fear and old blood, walls whispering secrets of torment. Shit , I loved it down here—my playground, my church. The dim light flickered as I approached Angelo's cell.
Strung up like a fuckin' marionette, his skin sliced open in delicate patterns. Blood dripped a slow, rhythmic torture, a little pool below where he hung. He raised his head, defiance still burning in his eyes despite the pain carved into his flesh. Poor bastard didn't realize he was already dead.
" Time for your medicine," I growled. Ripped the pack from my pocket, the little vial of poison glinting like liquid sin. This shit was my signature, my art—death by a thousand agonizing cuts, courtesy of nature's own little assassin.
He pressed the needle into Angelo's neck and pushed the plunger slowly, savoring the spread of poison through his veins. A small dose, just enough to light the fires of hell in his body, not enough to grant the mercy of death. Fuck , the anticipation of his screams was almost better than the act itself .
" Enjoy the ride," I sneered, stepping back to admire my handiwork. Marco had done well. Cutting him just enough so it would sting as he sweat but not enough to bleed him out. Left him there, dangling, a piece of meat tenderizing in pain.
Angelo's body convulsed, muscles seizing as his spine arched. His screams clawed their way up from the bowels of his agony, raw and ragged. I leaned against the cold wall, arms folded, a smirk twisting my lips as his torment grew in pitch.
" Feels like hell, doesn't it? You know, my daddy used this on me. I can take twice that dose and not blink an eye. I’ll work you up to it, don’t worry." My voice cut through his cries. " That's the price of fucking with what's mine. You thought you could take her, hurt her, and there'd be no payback?"
The poison did its work, a relentless tormentor, wringing out every ounce of suffering. His eyes, wild with pain, met mine, and I saw the dawning of understanding, the realization that he was fucked, truly fucked.
" Every scream, every tear she shed, you're gonna feel it a hundredfold."
I circled him once, laughing at this pathetic shit-stained sack of skin. The stench of sweat and fear mingled with the coppery tang of blood, a scent that sang to the primal part of me.
" Look at you," I growled, disgust curling around each word, "a sniveling bitch begging for an end. But death's too good for you, too fucking easy."
His pleas were garbled, his whimpers loud as his heart pumped the poison, cycling through his body over and over. It’ll be out of his system soon enough. And then I’ll do it again.
" Rest up, Angelo ." I stepped back, fist clenched so tight I could feel my nails biting into my palm. " Gonna need your strength. This is just the introduction. When I come back, we play the finale, and trust me, it's a real killer."
I turned my back on the writhing mass of misery, leaving him to feel how his skin crawled while his blood burned. The door clanged shut behind me, sealing him in his private chamber of horrors. It was time to go back to my girl now that I got a bit of the darkness out.
I stormed through the sterile hospital corridors, hardly stopping to figure out which room she was in. The door swung open with a shove of my shoulder; the sight of her lying there, all pale and broken—almost killed me. It was worse under these lights, with her all clean, her hair neatly tied back in a soft bun. It wasn't supposed to be like this, not for her. She wasn’t supposed to get caught up in it.
Marco cleared his throat as he held her hand. " She's stable."
I nodded, throat tight like I'd swallowed glass. I didn’t even give a fuck that he was touching her. It didn’t matter. None of that shit mattered. Not anymore. She could take on a thousand lovers if it meant they’d stand and protect her when the time came.
" Angelo ?" he asked, blue eyes flicking up to mine.
" Dose one."
Marco understood; he always did. His gaze returned to Rosalind , thumb caressing her hand like it could wipe away the marks of violence. " She's gonna make it, . Gonna need us both."
" Fuck yeah, she will," I muttered, pulling up a seat.
My hand hovered over her, inches from her skin—wanting to touch, to feel that warmth I knew was hers alone. But I felt… dirty. Marco must have known because he stood and crossed her arm over her waist. He’d give me the space I needed to figure out how to love her right .
“ I’ll go get us some coffee from down the road. This stuff here tastes like piss water.”