Chapter 15
HUNTER
Refilling my coffee for the fifth time, I stare at my laptop on the kitchen counter. It’s one in the morning, and I’m no closer to being done sifting through all this data than I was six hours ago.
Placing my mug on the counter, I interlock my fingers at the base of my neck and tip my head back toward the ceiling.
So far, there have been twenty reports of system shutdowns, including Gabriel’s. One is an accident, two is a coincidence, and three is a pattern.
But twenty?
That’s a strategy.
I heard Rory leave hours ago, which isn’t out of the norm. But usually about this time, Luke is in the kitchen with me, searching for his own source of caffeine, and Rory has already wandered home with company.
Swiping my cell phone from the counter, I dial the person I know will pick up.
Luke answers on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Where the hell are you?” I pinch the bridge of my nose, warding off a headache.
“We’re—Ya see—Well—,” he stammers, which is unlike him. Luke is like a quiet force. Sure and precise.
“We? Who’s we?” I interject.
“Rory and I.”
This can’t be good. “You and Rory, what?”
“It’s a funny story, actually,” Luke begins to explain.
Leaning back against the counter, I sigh. “Why do I have the feeling that I won’t find this story the least bit humorous?”
“I think you’ll get a kick out of this one. Turns out, Rory and I have both been seeing Savannah.”
“I’m not laughing,” I respond in a dead tone. “And you two aren’t the only ones.”
“Can’t say I’m surprised,” I hear Rory retort.
Luke continues, not even acknowledging my comment. “She got a little freaked tonight, and we went after her.”
“Dear God, please don’t tell me you have her tied up somewhere.”
Rory scoffs. “No, of course not. We’re not animals. If she wants to be tied up, we’d get her consent first.”
I groan in frustration. “Do I need to call our lawyers? Is there going to be a sexual harassment scandal?”
“Well…” Luke replies.
Pushing myself away from the counter, I stalk toward my room. “Send me your location. I’m on my way.”
Not bothering to put on a suit, I slide a sweater over my head and slip my feet into a pair of tennis shoes.
Once I’m ready, I’m in the parking garage in less than five minutes, selecting the Audi S8 out of the lineup of vehicles.
Yes, I have Sterling, but in situations like this, I prefer to drive myself. Plus, I love the feel of a V8 engine at my command.
Rory texts me an address that makes me do a double-take.
Please, God, tell me they didn’t.
I push down on the gas pedal and speed toward my destination, taking side streets when needed.
After I cross the bridge into Brooklyn, it doesn’t take me long to get to Rory and Luke.
I find them on a bench with a man feeding pigeons across the street from Taki Yuki, and neither of them has a coat on.
Rolling down my window, I get a snippet of their conversation.
“That one right there is Cynthia.” The strange man points to a pigeon. “She’s best friends with Beth. They’re both mad at Trevor.”
Luke tosses feed on the ground to a few birds at his feet, while Rory nods his head along like he’s following the explanation, but I’m already confused at the whole scene in front of me.
“What are you doing?” I shout across my car and through the passenger window.
Rory and Luke look at me at the same time, say something I can’t hear to the man, shake his hand, and get in my car with me. Rory sits in the front, and Luke slides into the back.
“Who is that?”
“Pastor Alan,” Rory answers.
Frowning, I try to lead them to explain more, “And he is…”
“A person?” Luke’s response comes out as a question. Glancing in my rearview mirror, I find that his frown matches mine.
Still confused, I retort, “He looks homeless. Should we take him to a shelter? It’s cold outside.”
Rory waves me off. “We already offered that. He doesn’t want to go. He said he can’t leave his flock.”
“Should we get him some food?”
Luke answers this time. “He wouldn’t take that either. So, we gave him our jackets, and I slipped some cash in the pockets.”
We may have questionable morals, but we’re not heartless. And there’s only so much we can do for someone who doesn’t want our help.
Nodding my head, satisfied that they did all they could, I get down to why I’m here. “Now that that’s settled, what the hell are we doing here?” My hand waves to Savannah’s apartment. “Have you been following her or something?”
Luke rears his head back. “What are you talking about? If anyone is following anyone, it’s Rory following me.”
Rory whips his head around, glaring in the backseat. “Are you delusional? You’re the one who was watching me tonight.”
Luke leans forward, getting in Rory’s face, but the energy in here feels less angry and more steamy. “Only because you stopped and stared when Savannah and I were kissing at the library, then you avoided me for days.”
“You watched us kiss first!” Rory throws his hands in the air.
“And you liked it!” Luke falls back, resting against the seat.
“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Calm down.” Slicing my hands through the air to stop the fighting, I put myself in the middle.
“Why are you watching each other? Have either of you told Savannah about it?” When my question isn’t answered, I find Rory and Luke looking in every direction but mine. “Well, this is interesting.”
Rory’s brows almost disappear into his hair. “I think interesting is an understatement.”
“No shit,” I quip.
“Well, I’m not going to stop seeing her,” Luke says defensively.
I shake my head. “Me either.”
“Neither am I. Not after tonight,” Rory adds.
“Looks like there’s only one option then.” Rory shrugs his shoulders. “We share.”
Squinting at him, I retort, “How is that our only option?”
I’m not against polyamory. As long as everyone is consenting, do what you want. I’ve just never been a part of something like that. I don’t know if I’m a sharing type of man.
“You’re right. It’s not our only option.” Rory gestures between the three of us, then he motions between him and Luke. “But I think it’s our only option. Or at least, our best option.”
Luke shrugs a shoulder. “We’ve done it before.”
“Not for more than one night,” I remind them.
Rory points at me. “True, but I’m sure we could work it out. It’s the twenty-first century. It’s not like there aren’t other groups out there that live this way.”
“You have a point there.” Luke frowns, nodding his head.
Rory rubs his face. “So, what do we do?”
“We talk to Savannah about it. It should be her choice,” I decide.
“You’re right,” Luke agrees, exhaling a resigned breath, but his energy does a full one-eighty. “Shall we?” He reaches for the door handle.
“It’s after two in the morning,” I argue.
Rory dips his head and leans into my space. His head is literally by my stomach.
“Excuse you?” I comment aggressively.
Rory points out of my window. “There’s someone up there.”
Luke and I snap our heads to get a look and find that Rory is right. There’s a figure dressed in all black easing itself off Savannah’s balcony and down the fire escape.
When they drop to their feet on the sidewalk, I move to get out of the car, but Rory grabs my arm. “Do you have anything in here?”
I point to the ground. “Of course, I do. Under your seat.”
His hand goes to the floor, searching around. “Ah ha,” he exclaims. He sits back up and passes a gun to both of us, keeping one for himself.
“Wait,” Luke says after he checks the magazine of his custom P320 in his hand, and points to the person we’re watching.
They turn their head back and forth, scanning the area, but in this part of Brooklyn, almost everyone is asleep. The streetlight gives us a glimpse of their face, and we all sit, unable to move, in stunned silence.
“Is that…” Rory trails off.
“What’s she doing?” Luke asks.
“Let’s follow,” I suggest.
We watch as Savannah pulls a black gaiter over her mouth and nose and takes off in the opposite direction from us. We jump out of my car together, conceal our weapons, and set off in a light jog after her, keeping our distance.
Something feels off. This doesn’t seem like a middle-of-the-night jog.
Not once does Savannah turn around to check her surroundings. Anyone could sneak up on her. I try not to let that make my blood boil, but she’s going to learn a lesson or two about taking her safety seriously.
About one hundred feet ahead of us, Savannah finally slows down in front of a house in Murray Hill. It’s a narrow, two-story home wedged between two others just like it. The blue siding looks like it’s seen better days, and the iron railing guarding the stoop is on its last leg.
“Why do I get the feeling that she isn’t doing all of this because she forgot her key?” Rory questions in a quiet voice.
I hold my finger up to my lips, not wanting Savannah to know we’re here.
She circles the tiny house, pulling on each of the windows of the first floor. None of them budges for her.
“Is she—”
I place my hand over Luke’s mouth, cutting him off.
Savannah pushes back and forth on the pathetic railing. Then she lifts a foot and heaves herself on top.
If she breaks a bone, I swear, I’ll spank her ass raw.
The railing wobbles, but she quickly reaches forward, latching onto the edge of the sloping roof. She hauls herself up onto the shingles just before the railing collapses. The crash is loud, causing a few outside dogs on the street to bark.
Fuck. She’s going to get caught.
There’s just enough light from the moon for us to see her pull a knife out of her running jacket and jimmy open one of the upstairs windows.
I wave my hand as I step off the curb to cross the street, motioning for Rory and Luke to follow me. As we enter the small front yard, there’s a commotion inside.
“Damnit,” Luke curses, and we all sprint for the front door, not bothering to remain quiet ourselves.