24. Can Anyone Hear You?
Chapter 24
Can Anyone Hear You?
MEGAN
Eight Weeks Later
I ’m sitting in the familiar shadows of the club, the hum of the deep bass vibrating under my feet. The crowd is light tonight—thank God. I’m not sure my swollen ankles could handle the usual rush. At this late stage of my pregnancy, I feel like a balloon that could pop at any moment, but I wouldn’t trade this feeling for the world. I run my hand over my belly, smiling at the kick I feel in return. Damn, that one was a little hard.
As if on cue to distract me from the rather swift kick my baby just gave me, I receive a call from the little soccer player’s father, who has been a terrible patient at his rehabilitation facility lately.
“Hello, beautiful.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Then why aren’t you sleeping?”
“You’re micro-managing my sleep schedule as well as everything else, I see.”
“The doctor was clear. Rest is an integral part of your recovery. Eating, sleeping, and physical therapy is all you should be doing.”
“And you’re eight months pregnant with my child. You shouldn’t be sitting in a smoke-filled club.”
“Sitting here is literally part of the job.”
Knowing that I’m right, he lets out an annoyed growl. Hunter still hasn’t gotten comfortable with the fact that I call the shots until he’s back on his feet. While there’s nothing wrong with his beautiful brain, he still has quite a few physical challenges that would make him look weak in front of clients and, more importantly, his enemies.
“It’s not healthy for the baby.”
“Most people vape now. I don’t even smell the smoke,” I quip.
“Not helping, Megan.”
“Seriously, get some sleep, Hunter. I’m going to head home in a little while. The guys can handle the rest of the night.”
“Lars is driving you, correct?”
“Like he does every single night,” I sigh.
“And you’d tell me if you felt like something was off?”
“Everything’s fine, Hunter. You’ve got to try and relax. It’s quiet as a church in here tonight.”
“I’m going fucking stir crazy in this place. Everyone is old enough to be my grandfather.”
“If you keep doing everything your therapy team tells you to do, then you’ll be home before you know it.”
“Is my sister there?”
“In the kitchen as usual.”
“And Christian?”
I know why he’s asking about those two in particular, but I feign ignorance. I’m not going to get involved in any of that drama. Who am I to judge if Lena likes older men?
“He’s at Table 21.”
“Vaughn, too?”
“Yes, he’s here as well. Like I said, they’re here every night. I feel very safe.”
“You know that Vaugn can take over if you’re not feeling up to this anymore? He was always the most logical choice to do it.”
“Except he wasn’t, was he? I was the one with the rational head when the shit hit the fan. Don’t forget that, my love.”
“It appears as if you’re never going to let me forget it.”
I grin hard to myself.
“You’re absolutely right.”
“I wish you were in this bed with me.” His voice drops.
“There’s not enough room for the three of us,” I chuckle, reminding him that I’m carrying another human being.
“I’d make room.”
“What are you doing, Hunter?” I ask suspiciously, fully understanding what it means when his voice thickens like that.
“I’m thinking about how sweet you taste.”
“Do you even remember?” I tease.
“Oh, I remember everything about that sweet pussy of yours. It smells like ripe berries and tastes even sweeter.”
I scan my surroundings, taking note that no one is within earshot of me, so I indulge him.
“Can you smell me from there because my pussy is soaking wet?”
“Fuck, Megan,” he grunts.
“It’s a shame visiting hours are over. Who’s going to take care of that hard dick of yours?”
“Megan,” he growls.
“God, I love that fat dick when it’s inside me. In my mouth. In my pussy. Hell, it doesn’t matter.”
“Megan! Can anyone hear you?”
“I don’t give a shit who can hear,” I say in the best sex kitten voice I can muster. “Do you remember how wet I get for you, Hunter? I’m sitting in your club, drenched, in need of a good fuck. What are you going to do about it?”
“Shit–” I hear him violently grunt, then there’s a moment of heavy breathing and then complete silence.
I wait for a moment and then speak, “Hunter, you okay?”
“I expect you to come by here tomorrow before you go to the club, Megan.”
“To finish this up?” I chuckle.
“Good night, Megan,” he says before ending the call. I love it when I leave him hot and bothered. It’s fine. Tomorrow, I’ll lock the door to his private room and give him a quickie blow job.
Gage, the manager, moves behind the bar with practiced ease, filling drink orders without a second glance at me. He’s grown used to me sitting back here, keeping an eye on things.
“You doing okay, Megan?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder as he polishes a glass.
“Yeah, I just said goodnight to Hunter, and now I’m enjoying the quiet,” I answer, stretching my back. It’s been a long day already, but quiet nights like this make it easier. Less chaos means fewer problems to deal with, and that’s what I need right now. A little peace.
But I’ve learned the hard way—peace doesn’t last long around here.
My phone buzzes on the table. I glance down at the screen, seeing an unknown number flash. My stomach twists. Calls from unknown numbers rarely bring good news.
I hesitate for a moment before answering, keeping my voice steady. “Hello?”
There’s a pause on the other end, then a woman’s voice, shaking and laced with panic. “Is... is this the number? The one I was given? The one I’m supposed to call if... if something went wrong?”
I straighten up, tension rolling down my spine. I was told a call like this may happen, but it doesn’t make hearing the fear in her voice any easier. “Yes, this is the right number. What’s the problem?”
There is another pause, and then she speaks again, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was told a man would answer. The one who fixes things. The one who makes problems go away.”
Her confusion is palpable, and I understand it. She’s expecting Hunter—someone tough, intimidating, the guy who steps in when things get messy.
Not me.
But unfortunately, tonight, I’m all she’s got.
“Well, I’m the one handling things tonight,” I say firmly, leaving no room for doubt. Then I try remembering the script I was given to use if one of these calls ever occurred. Hunter made me practice it a million times, although I don’t think he ever believed I’d need it.
“Who gave you this number?” I ask her.
“He told me to say a friend from the bottom.”
That’s the correct answer, so I move on.
“Tell me what happened.”
She’s quiet for a second, and I can hear her breathing shakily on the other end, clearly debating whether to hang up. But then she lets out a long, unsteady breath.
“There’s a body,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “He’s dead, and I... I didn’t mean for this to happen. I just...”
Fuck me.
A dead body?
Seriously?