7. Can You Put That Away?
Chapter 7
Can You Put That Away?
MEGAN
M y brain and heart are at war with each other.
My Hunter-starved heart is bursting with joy that he is physically in front of me after what felt like a lifetime being apart, but my brain is confused as to why he looks like he wants to kill someone…particularly me. But even with his scary ass Glock spinning in the center of the bistro table, my heart wins this battle, and I jump to my feet and wrap my arms around him.
“Thank God you found me!”
As he holds me with one arm around my waist, the taut hardness of Hunter’s body relaxes just a smidge as I try my damndest to lose myself in his embrace.
“Are you okay?” he whispers with words that sound somehow broken instead of jubilant.
“Yes…yes, I’m alright.”
“Are you here with him?” he asks, sounding somewhat bewildered.
“No, not exactly.”
I know that Parker has royally fucked himself, but before Hunter arrived, I was talking him into taking me home instead of back to Naomi’s father. One more bite of his burrito, and I think I would have been successful.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Parker says in a tone full of fright.
“What am I thinking, Parker?” he bites back, positioning me behind his broad back, a place that I wish I could nestle for longer than this tense moment will allow.
“You’re thinking that I’ve had some part in what’s happened to Megan.”
“My fiancee was taken, and now she’s with you, eating bad Mexican food, at a pit stop in Arizona. It doesn’t take rocket science to figure out what’s going on. One plus one equals motherfucking two,” he retorts cooly.
“Can you put that away, boss?” Parker asks, referring to the gun on the table.
“Oh, didn’t you hear? You are no longer under my employment. You stole my car. You stole my woman. The name is Mr. Middleton to you.”
“I didn’t take her!” he pleads. “I saved her from Fabre.”
Okay, that’s not exactly what happened.
“Then why didn’t you pick up your phone one single time when we called?”
“Boss–”
“You’re always on that damn phone.”
“I had to toss it.”
“I bet you did. Get up.”
Hunter reaches for his gun, so I squeeze him harder around his waist.
“It’s okay, Megan.” He pats my hand softly. “We’re just going out to the car,” he assures me. “And Parker, if you run, I will fuck you up.”
“I’m not going to run,” Parker sighs defeatedly.
“Then get up and walk toward the exit. When we get through the doors, turn to your left.”
It’s only a matter of moments until we see Lars and another security team that usually works at the club. The look on Lars’s face when he spots me next to Hunter is priceless. I imagine it’s the type of look a loving father would give his long-lost child.
I offer him a smile in return.
“You found her,” Lars says to Hunter as he approaches.
“It wasn’t hard,” Hunter quips. “She was having lunch with our boy Parker here.”
Lars rakes his eyes over Parker with the complete opposite look he gave me. It’s one full of disappointment and pretty much disgust. It’s obvious that both Hunter and Lars believe that Parker is guilty of something, which he is, but for a pretty good reason in my opinion. I see it’s going to be up to me to help him, but when dealing with Hunter, the timing always matters, and this is not the time to try and save Parker’s ass.
Hunter turns to me, my face between his two strong hands, and it’s at this very moment that I see just how much our separation has cost him. His eyes are sunken in and are missing their usual silvery-grey glow. The frown lines on his forehead have deepened, and he hasn’t shaved at all.
“Lars and I need to talk to Parker for a moment before we get back on the road. I need to understand how much danger you’re still in.”
“I’m not sure he can tell you anything, Hunter.”
“I don’t want you to worry about any of this. You’ve already been through enough. I’m just asking you to sit in the truck with the other team while we talk to him.”
“I don’t want to be separated from you again,” I say, almost panicked.
His face looks pained by my reaction. “Of course, that was thoughtless of me.”
“Can’t you talk to him later? I just want to get home.”
Lars leads Parker a few feet away to give the two of us some privacy. After a moment of staring me intensely in the eyes, Hunter finally asks the question I think he’s been wanting to ask since he found me.
“Megan…is there anything you’re not telling me?” he asks hesitantly and dare I say almost fearfully as if he’s afraid of my answer.
The nerve of him.
But I’m exhausted.
And dirty.
And I don’t feel like getting into this with him in a parking lot in west bubble fuck Arizona.
“Like what?”
“I’m not accusing you of anything; I’m just saying that I wasn’t expecting to find you here with Parker.”
“And so? I didn’t expect to get kidnapped in front of my house either!”
His eyes narrow.
“Why are you being so defensive?”
“I’m just trying to understand if you’re just being curious or accusatory right now. I was being held against my will by some New Orleans gangster and his creepy henchman. Are you happy to see me or not?”
“Of course, I’m happy,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’m offended by the suggestion that I wouldn’t be.”
“And I’m offended that you think that I have some secret agenda going on with Parker.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Suddenly, his eyes drop to the ground.
“I had a nightmare that I lost you.” His voice cracks. “I’ve had a lot of them since you were taken.”
I raise my hand to the side of his face.
“But you found me.”
His eyes land on my lips and his mouth soon follows, and we share a languid kiss that quickly reminds us both of what’s most important.
“I can’t stomach that this happened at all,” he admits, our foreheads touching. “It’s my job to protect you and our baby. If I can’t do that, then what the fuck am I doing at all? What does that say about my ability to be a husband and a father? This is why I want to move us to the house I found and–”
“Stop,” I tell him firmly, placing a hand on his chest. “Talking about that house and your plans for our life is part of what got us here in the first place. I don’t want to talk about it. I want to get in that truck, drive to the nearest airport, and fly home– period.”
I’ve taken a firm stance in many conversations with Hunter before, but this is probably the first time that I’ve said my piece and could care less about the ramifications of my words.
“Forgive me,” he says. “You’re right. Let’s get you home where you belong, and I’ll deal with Parker and Fabre later.”
Ugh, for a split second, I forgot about the fact that Hunter is not going to let any of this go without some sort of serious retaliation, and even with all of her lies and obvious shortcomings, I don’t want Naomi to be a casualty of war.
But that’s a problem for tomorrow.
Today, I just want to get back into my bed and sink into my fiance's embrace, momentarily blocking out the world and the carnage that’s ahead of us.